Inevitable (Part 6)

Posted 4 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Paritosh lingered around for a while when Rupali reached there the next day. Usually he set out immediately. Was he looking out for her or for Meenal, Rupali wondered. He made some small talk; asked about her job at the pharmacy.

“It’s quite mindless, but it pays,” she replied with a smile, “Thankfully not many people had any emergency last night. Not much business.”

He chuckled slightly at that. That was a first too! After the smile last evening… And he looked good when he did that. His features softened, his eyes smiled. It was difficult to fathom that this man could have just walked in yesterday and fired her ruthlessly. Was something the matter?

He came back early in the evening too. Half an hour earlier than usual. He had called up the cook on his way and asked her to come earlier. “She will make tea,” he informed her, “Have some before leaving.” He was really trying hard to make up for his behavior yesterday.

“I never got to ask,” she decided to face the issue head on over tea, “Why had you come back in the afternoon yesterday?” His face clouded. She figured she might have asked something she shouldn’t have. “You don’t have to answer,” she added in a small voice.

“No. That’s fine,” he gathered himself together, “You deserve an explanation, even if it is inadequate.” She looked up at him questioningly.  He continued, “It was Amrit’s, Meenal’s mother’s, death anniversary.”

“Ohh!” He must have been upset. “I… I am sorry.” But why was there no puja, no rituals that the occasion demanded? Did he not believe in them? But even non-believers didn’t usually skip some bare minimum rituals?

“We had been trying for a baby for a long time before Meenal was born. When she was about two-years old, her symptoms became difficult to ignore. Amrit was severely disappointed when the diagnosis came. She could never accept Meenal’s condition,” Paritosh went on talking, “People, especially relatives, are not always kind in their remarks. And Amrit could not ignore them. I tried my best, but… She couldn’t stand being taunted for giving birth to a retarded girl.”

“Meenal is not retarded,” Rupali could not help interrupting.

“No. She is not. But abandoning her wouldn’t be justified even if she were. Amrit committed suicide. She left her daughter. Social stigma became more important for her than her little girl. I will never be able to forgive her.”

That explained why he didn’t want to do anything in her memory. Rupali had nothing to say. She stayed silent.

“She had overdosed on sleeping pills. Doctor had prescribed them because of her depression. I would have thought it was an accident, but there was a suicide note too. When I came home that day, I found Meenal playing at her side. She looked asleep. But she was dead.”

Damn! That explained his reaction to her sleeping yesterday. “You were reminded of that when you saw me sleeping yesterday?” she asked.

He nodded. “It was unfair. But… I don’t know what had come upon me.”

“Try not to be so hard on yourself, Dr. Khanna. Life is not kind to us. If we also treated ourselves ruthlessly, we won’t survive.”

He looked at her appreciatively. “You’d survive it. You have learned life’s lessons well.” The smile that he gave after that affected her  – she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach, and a quickening of heartbeat.

“I need to leave now, Dr. Khanna. Take care.”

“You too. Bye!”

“Rupali,” at some point of time he had switched to calling her by her name instead of ‘Ms. Banerjee’. Rupali didn’t remember when that happened, but this felt more natural. “About tomorrow…” It was a Friday. The weekends were here again.

“I will come, Sir. No problem.” Sugata and Soumitra had accepted it, even if grudgingly. She had promised that she’d try to get a day off from Pharmacy.

“Your brothers… They don’t have school tomorrow, right?”

“No.”

“They could come with you. That way you’d get to spend time with them too. And they could bring their books or whatever they need, if they have to study or finish some other work.”

“That’s… That’s a very kind offer, Sir. But too many people may disturb Meenal and…”

“There is only one thing we do not lack here. Space,” he looked around sadly, “They can have one of the guest rooms to themselves. And there are the lawns, the swimming pool. At how many places would Meenu be at any time?”

“I… I will check with them…”

“If you want I can speak to them.”

She chucked slightly, “It’s okay, Sir. They won’t need a formal invitation if they want to come.”

“And don’t bother with cooking. I’ll have breakfast and lunch cooked here.”

“Sir…”

“Please. I insist.”

She nodded looking uncomfortable.

“And Rupali…”

“Yes Sir?”

He had remembered the heap of unwashed clothes. He thought of asking her to bring them over as well and they will get washed in the machine. But she already was already uncomfortable with him trying to make things easier. So, he decided against saying anything about it.

“Nothing. Just… Thanks for accommodating and do try to convince your brothers to come.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Why should we go there? We have our own home.” Sugata was at his rebellious best again. But Rupali had sensed that he was curious and wanted to come.

“Well. One reason is that he has a swimming pool at his house,” Soumitra said while suppressing a smile.

“Swimming pool?” That got him Sugata’s attention.

“How do you know about the swimming pool?” Rupali was surprised. She hadn’t noticed it herself. She didn’t know of its existence until he mentioned it to her that evening.

“They were cleaning it the day I had gone there. I just asked casually.”

“Fine. Both of you are coming. Make sure to pack your books though; not swimming dreams. I am not asking him for access to swimming pool. And no one is there to teach you.”

“I know how to swim,” Sugata protested loudly.

Soumitra looked at him skeptically with arched brows. “A little at least,” he added in a small voice drawing a chuckle from his brother and sister.

“Books! Remember to pack your books. Exams are barely a month away.”

“Who wants to go swimming?”

Meenal was taking a nap and Rupali was with her brothers in one of the guestrooms, when Paritosh walked in. He must have overheard them.

“No… Nobody Sir,” Rupali stammered. He had been too indulging recently and she didn’t want any more of it. It was uncomfortable. And they shouldn’t get used to it.

“Do either of you swim?” Paritosh ignored her and asked her brothers directly.

“I do…  A little,” Sugata replied despite Rupali’s earlier admonitions. He was eager to get his hands on a pool.

“How about you, Soumitra?”

“No. I have never been in a pool.”

“And even Sugata doesn’t know it too well, Dr. Khanna,” Rupali spoke again.

“Don’t be so afraid, Rupali. They are big boys. The pool is shallow. They can easily stand in it. They won’t drown, even if they try. Come, let’s go.”

Soumitra looked at Rupali for approval. But she was too confused to give him any signals. Sugata meanwhile jumped out of chair he was sitting in and got ready to go. Rupali did not have the heart to check his excitement at this point. She shrugged with a smile. They went off.

To be continued

Inevitable (Part 5)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

She had been tired. She had not been able to catch up on her sleep over the weekend. She could not get enough last night either. Sugata’s band had gotten their first break. They were performing at a club. Having already missed on his cricket match, she didn’t want to disappoint him again. After leaving Paritosh’ house and before starting her night shift at the pharmacy, she had gone to the club to see the performance. This was the time when she usually slept for about three hours.

So, when Meenal slept in the afternoon, she found it difficult to keep herself awake. She hadn’t been planning on sleeping, but had set the alarm just in case… She did end up falling asleep. As luck would have it, Paritosh returned too early, in the afternoon itself for some reason.  And although Meenal wasn’t affected, he went berserk.

Now the job was gone. There was no point in mourning it. She might as well listen to the needs of her body and get a good sleep. That’s what she did when she reached home.

But fate wasn’t going to be kind to her. Hardly two hours had passed, when the bell rung. Sugata and Soumitra couldn’t be back yet. They went to tuition or to play straight after the school and came back only by seven in the evening. Then too, they used their own keys to get in, so as to not disturb a sleeping Rupali.

She was taken aback to see Paritosh with Meenal at the door and did not hide her surprise. She was too sleepy to exercise much control over her reactions.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal rocked and held her hand. Rupali stood there looking dumbfounded.

Paritosh noticed her red eyes and realized he had woken her up from deep sleep. He flushed in embarrassment and rubbed his forehead. “I… I don’t know what to explain. She, herself, is explanation enough. She hasn’t stopped asking for you since you left. I’m sorry for how I behaved. It was… I was being a jerk.  Please don’t punish her for that…”

Rupali was still looking from Paritosh to Meenal and back, and was not awake enough to make up her mind. “You are too surprised and sleepy,” Paritosh realized her condition and said, “If she comes in with you, could you please take her. You can sleep. Just let her be around. For one hour. After five she would be fine. I can wait in the car.”

“Okay,” she mumbled and made to go in. Meenal willingly followed her. Then she suddenly realized the absurdity of him waiting in the car. “Wait. Dr. Khanna,” she called him back, “Please come in and wait inside. Why should you wait in the car? I am so sleepy, I am behaving like an idiot.”

For the first time, she saw him smile. An embarrassed, but genuine smile. “It’s okay,” he said and came in. It was a one-bedroom house, with a small hall, part of which was converted to a kitchen. Two cots were lying in the hall. Books and some other usual teenage possessions were fitted in two old steel cupboards and on a simple wooden table.  There was one wooden chair and no other furniture in the hall. One corner had a mattress lying on the floor. Clothes were heaped up on the mattress; most likely the unwashed ones, waiting for the weekend. Gathered up for two weeks? He wondered, because he had taken up her weekend as well.

Rupali didn’t notice his close scrutiny. “Shall I get your some tea or coffee, Sir?” she asked.

“No. I am fine. Please go ahead and sleep.”

It must be her sleepy state of mind that Rupali picked Meenal up without any warning. Paritosh got worried. He was about to stop her, but realized that Meenal wasn’t protesting. He wordlessly watched them disappear in the bedroom. He wasn’t quite able to figure out how he felt. He slumped on the chair and started fiddling with his phone.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Paritosh heard Meenal’s soft voice coming from the bedroom. It was five. She was probably waking Rupali up. Should he go in and bring her away? But how could he enter the bedroom? Before he could resolve his dilemma, Rupali came out with Meenal walking by her toes and holding her hand.

“She woke you up,” Paritosh said apologetically.

“That’s fine. I was planning to wake up anyway. I will sleep at my usual time now.”

“You hadn’t had enough sleep last night?”

“No.”

“Why? Were you unwell?”

“No,” she replied and paused for a moment. He would want to know the reason. He didn’t know about her night-job. Should she tell him? What was there to lose now? At worst, he won’t reverse his decision of firing her. She might as well tell him. “I do the night-shift at a 24-hours pharmacy. I usually sleep between six to nine in the evening. But last night, my brother’s band was performing. For the first time. So, I had to go. I had already missed the cricket match last Saturday.”

“You work two jobs?” he was surprised.

She nodded.

“To support your brother?”

“To take care of them,” she didn’t like the word ‘support’. That sounded like an unwanted responsibility.

“Them? How many brothers do you have?” Paritosh had seen only Soumitra and had assumed that he was the only one.

“Two. They are twins.”

“Your parents?”

“They are dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It has been six years.”

“Oh!” He hadn’t realized the extent of her responsibilities. When she had said that she had taken care of her brothers, he had assumed that she would have helped her mother. “I didn’t realize your parents… Did you have no relatives you could stay with?”

“Both my grandparents were dead by then. My mother was the only child and my father didn’t have good relationship with his brothers.”

Paritosh looked away uncomfortably. He shouldn’t have behaved that way with her earlier. Rupali decided to change the topic to put him out of misery. “I will make some tea.”

“No! I have already troubled you too much today…”

“I’m going to make some for myself anyway, Sir. Please…”

“Okay.”

“Meenal would need her biscuits. I am afraid I don’t have that brand at home…”

“Oh! I am carrying those. I will get them from the car. Meenu. Come with me,” he took her with him so that Rupali could go to the kitchen.

“You will come tomorrow, I hope,” Paritosh said hesitatingly as he sipped tea after feeding biscuits to Meenal.

“I do need the job, Dr. Khanna,” Rupali replied in a low voice, “And I do like her. Very much.”

“Thanks. I had over-reacted today,” he was relieved.

“I shouldn’t have slept. It won’t happen again.”

“Just let me know if you do need rest. I will try to come early.”

This concern and cooperation was in stark contrast to his behavior of just a few hours earlier. It was confusing for Rupali. “It’s fine, Sir. I will manage,” she said.

“Didi!” Soumitra entered excitedly just then, “I won the debate competition and…” He hesitated and fell silent as he saw Paritosh there.

“Hello Soumitra,” Paritosh greeted him, “And congratulations.”

“Thanks Dr. Khanna. Didi. This is for you,” he handed her an envelope.

“What is this?”

“The prize. They had cash prizes.”

“You keep it, Soumitra…”

“No. This is for you. Sugata has gone to play cricket,” he changed the topic, “I have to study for a mock test tomorrow. I will be in the room.”

“Eat something first.”

“I will take some snacks from kitchen. Don’t worry.”

“He sometimes sells off whatever he gets as the prize to bring the cash home,” Rupali murmured after Soumitra had taken his snacks and books into the only bedroom the house had, “He has grown beyond his age.”

“So have you,” Paritosh could not help appreciating. Then quickly changed the topic, “I will leave now. Hope to see you tomorrow. You should catch up on your sleep.”

“Yes Sir.”

To be continued

Inevitable (Part 4)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

House help opened the door for her. Paritosh was sitting on the carpet beside a crying Meenal. His head was buried in his hands. It looked like he had tried everything possible to calm his daughter down and had failed. Rupali looked at the clock. It was forty five minutes past eleven. If Meenal was crying since nine ‘o clock…

“Dr. Khanna.”

A distressed face looked up at her, and brightened up in a moment.

“Meenu,” he turned to her daughter and drew her attention to Rupali.

She indeed stopped crying.

“Mamma…. Mamma…”

Rupali smiled at her and stretched her hands out. Meenal got up, walked up to her and held her hand.

“Mamma… Mamma…” she rocked herself.

“Thank you,” Paritosh’ eyes were enough to express how grateful he felt.

“It’s all right, Sir,” she replied politely.

Both of them stayed around while Meenal became absorbed in her toys. Paritosh didn’t let Rupali bring Meenal’s food or do anything else that day. “I like doing it. Unfortunately I can’t do it every day,” he explained.

“I am afraid,” he spoke hesitatingly after feeding some milk to Meenal, “You might have to come tomorrow as well. Earlier, she had never done this. When I was around, she wasn’t bothered if the caretaker went away. But for some reason…”

Rupali had anticipated this. Yet her heart sank. It had been only one week into this job. Despite her bravado before her brothers, she was finding it tiring to do both the jobs, apart from the housework. Soumitra and Sugata helped at home, but they also needed time for their tuitions and studies and she didn’t want them to compromise on that. She had been looking forward to catching up on her sleep over the weekend. Pharmacy had to be attended every day. It was only the day time that she could have used to take rest. Apart from getting no time to sleep, coming here would mean she won’t get any time with her brothers either. But she couldn’t leave this little girl crying and distressed. What had she gotten herself into? She hoped that things would settle down. This week she would have to manage. By next weekend, hopefully, she would have thought of some solution.

“I will come, Sir,” she assured him.

“I will pay you for this…”

“That’s not needed, Dr. Khanna.” Taking money would have meant committing permanently to it. She didn’t want to do that.

The doorbell rang. The house help was still around. Rupali figured that she stayed longer on weekends to finish weekly tasks of dusting and cleaning up. On weekdays, she left at about the same time that Rupali came. She got the door.

“Somebody is here to see you, Ma’am,” she came back and informed.

“Who?” a surprised Rupali asked.

“He says he is your brother.”

“My brother? Here?”

“Bring him in,” Paritosh said.

“Soumitra. What’s up? Is everything all right?” Rupali got worried.

“Yes. Yes. I am going for Sugata’s cricket match. We just… You hadn’t eaten. So, we made some pooris for you. They didn’t turn out that well. So, we also packed some rice you had made for lunch.” He handed her a tiffin box hesitatingly. He was uncomfortable in Partitosh’ presence.

“You… you didn’t need to… ” She felt like she would choke on her voice. “Thank you,” she finally said. Her eyes were almost moist. “Dr. Khanna. This is my brother, Soumitra,” she introduced them.

Paritosh was looking guilty on realizing that Rupali had come away without eating. “Hi Soumitra. I am sorry for calling your sister like that…”

“It’s okay, Dr. Khanna,” Soumitra replied awkwardly. Rupali realized that he was uncomfortable in the posh surroundings.

“You have packed your lunch?” she asked. Thankfully she had made the lunch before starting on the breakfast. They were all planning to go for the cricket match and had to pack the lunch.

“Yes. I will leave now.”

Rupali nodded.

“You hadn’t eaten? Why didn’t you tell me?” Paritosh asked as soon as Soumitra left. As if, he wasn’t already feeling sufficiently guilty about spoiling her weekend.

“It’s okay, Dr. Khanna. I wasn’t hungry. I would have, if…”

“I should have taken care of it. Anyway, please have your breakfast first. I will check on lunch. There might be some chicken. Do you eat chicken?”

“Yes. I eat everything, Sir. Don’t worry about me.”

He nodded and walked off to the kitchen to check up on the cook.

She reached at Paritosh’ house fifteen minutes past nine on Wednesday. As she feared, Meenal was already crying.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s okay,” Paritosh was irritated, but knew better than to say anything to her for a mere fifteen minutes delay. It was the first time she had been late. He kept his calm.

But things took a different turn when for some reason he came home in the afternoon and found Rupali asleep. On Meenal’s bed, beside her. He looked at the clock. It was the time when Meenal woke up from her afternoon nap. Meenal woke up and poked Rupali gently. “Mamma… Mamma…”

Just then, an alarm went off in Rupali’s mobile. The sound of alarm frightened Meenal. Rupali woke up with a start and switched off the alarm before anything happened. Meenal calmed down immediately on seeing her awake.

Paritosh lost it, however. “What do you think you were doing?” he asked in a chilly voice.

“I… I am sorry, Sir. Meenal was sleeping. I just…”

“Meenal was sleeping, but she could have woken up. There was no one else in the house. Anything could have happened.” His voice was rising.

“I am really sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again. I…”

“No. It won’t happen again. Because you will leave right away. You are fired.”

“Sir!” Rupali wasn’t expecting such cold-hearted behavior from him. She thought she had gained his trust. Even if he didn’t find it professional for her to take a nap while Meenal was sleeping, firing her for that was a little too extreme. Nothing had gone wrong!

“Leave now. Did you hear me, or are you still sleepy?”

Tears welled up in her eyes at the insult. How could he? She looked at Meenal. She could probably not comprehend what was going on. Or if she could, and had an opinion about it, she could not voice it. Rupali felt angry. She won’t let this ungrateful man see her tears. She blinked those back. She got down from the bed, picked up her purse, wore her shoes, and left without a word.

To be continued

Inevitable (Part 3)

Posted 8 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Paritosh entered his home at five in the evening to the sound of his daughter’s frantic cries and the sight of a flustered Rupali.

“What happened? What does Meenu want?” Rupali was asking her and was looking around desperately, but she was unable to spot anything that could possibly be a problem. She turned around to go to the phone, probably to call him, when she ran into him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Sir. I can’t figure out. I was about to call you.”

“Meenu,” he rushed towards her. Rupali could not help noticing how he took efforts to stop himself from touching her. Something so counterintuitive to any parent whose child is crying. Picking her up and trying to calm her down would have been the obvious thing to do. But he didn’t do that. He couldn’t! The child may not like it. Rupali felt really bad for him. He looked at his daughter carefully, almost with the eyes of a detective. What was amiss?

Rupali saw him bending down and redoing her shoelaces. Meenal stopped crying. “The bow was lose,” he spoke as he turned towards a visibly relieved Rupali, “Just slightly. But…” It wasn’t anything she did, Rupali sent up a thousand thanks to God!

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” she said, “She was all right the entire day.”

Paritosh nodded, “It takes time to understand. There are too many things.” He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t blaming her. Rupali’s day was saved!

“Good evening, Meenu,” Paritosh turned his attention back to his daughter and greeted her. After a pause of few seconds, she responded by copying him. “Good evening, Meenu.”

Despite everything she had read about, including echolalia, something autistic children were prone too, that little exchange was jarring. In her own trying life, the one source of satisfaction and happiness she had was the affection of her brothers. When they smiled at her, or hugged her lovingly, or showed any signs of care for her, or expressed how much they missed her, the life became meaningful. Crushing down her own dreams to take care of them started making sense. If Sugata didn’t shout, and Soumitra didn’t frown, with worry, if they didn’t appreciate what she cooked for them, if their eyes didn’t glow with happiness when she got them a long-awaited gift, if they never talked to her about their school and friends, if they didn’t tell her that they wanted to make her proud, would she still be able to go through her life? Unlikely. Then what about Dr. Khanna? The one creature in the world he seemed to be living for and with, was incapable of showing emotions and affections.

She would have liked to offer some comfort to him, some assurance. But she remained tongue-tied about it. “Can I leave now, Dr. Khanna?” she asked.

“Yes. And I hadn’t expected that she would stay with you from day one like this. Good job.”

She was surprised. She had no expectations of a praise after he had found his daughter crying on coming home. But he understood!

“Th… thank you, Sir,” she stammered a little, “I will try to not disappoint you in future too.”

He nodded.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal said without looking at anyone as Rupali made to leave. She was distressed about the idea of her leaving.

Rupali kneeled before her and said, “I will come tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Meenal repeated the last word. Rupali hoped that it meant she understood.

“We will play with play-dough.”

“We will play with play-dough.”

“Bye Meenu.”

“Bye Meenu.”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you on a Saturday, Ms. Banerjee, but Meenal is frantic. I think she has gotten used to seeing you at nine every day. I am unable to calm her down. Is it possible…” Paritosh’ voice drowned. He sounded so miserable that Rupali couldn’t have said no. But she was just frying pooris for her brothers. Their weekend treat!

“I can leave in another fifteen minutes, Sir,” she did a quick mental calculation and replied. Her brothers would have eaten by then.

“Thanks. I… We’ll wait for you.”

“And if you had to become a nanny, you couldn’t find any child in the world other than this mad girl?” Sugata was livid yet again as Rupali hurriedly dropped the fried pooris in their plates.

“She is not mad, Sugata,” Rupali replied and went back to the stove.

“And even if she were,” Soumitra added, “This is no way to talk about anyone. It’s not her fault that she is that way.”

“Is it our fault? Is it Didi’s fault?”

“It is nobody’s fault,” Rupali came with the next set of pooris, “Now, will you please focus on eating. Some hard work goes into making food. Show some respect.”

“I wish they would show some respect for our time. You had promised to come for cricket match,” Sugata whined.

“I am sorry,” Rupali softened, “But Sugata. You are lucky that you can express yourself. That little girl… When she feels something, she can’t even express it. She is crying incessantly for last one hour. She could have been your own sister.”

“Emotional blackmail,” he mumbled. He was obviously affected by her reasoning, but won’t admit it. Rupali suppressed a smile. He was a boy trying hard to become a man. All this aggression was a manifestation of that.

“Aren’t you going to eat before leaving?” Soumitra noticed her picking up her purse.

“Don’t worry about me. I will find something to eat. Do go to his cricket match, Soumitra. Please!”

“Okay, I will.”

To be continued

Inevitable (Part 2)

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Another job?” Sugata was livid, as Rupali had expected. He rebelled against everything, against their fate, against their poverty, against their losing their parents, without quite knowing what to do with that rebellion. At his heart he wasn’t any different from Soumitra, his twin, in worrying about his elder sister. But he expressed it differently. He expressed it with anger. Soumitra, at the same time, was frowning quietly. “Stop shouting Sugata,” he said.

“Why should I stop shouting? What does she think she is? Some superwoman? As it is, she took up the night shift at pharmacy because of some extra money. Now, she wants to work the day too. When will she sleep? Or eat? Or do anything that normal mortals do?”

“You should stop shouting because what you are saying is correct. But shouting won’t convince her otherwise.”

“Stop bickering the two of you,” Rupali said patiently. “Night shift starts at ten. This job will only be till five. In the evenings and mornings, I will get enough sleep. And I don’t even have to work here over the weekends. Dr. Khanna himself stays with her daughter. So, stop worrying.”

“Didi,” Soumitra spoke this time, “You don’t need to do this. We can also take up some part time jobs. And it’s not like we don’t have enough…”

“Part time job? With board exams to face next year. Have you gone crazy?” Rupali parroted her response. They had been through this so many times. When her parents were alive, they hadn’t allowed her to lift her fingers for anything. They weren’t rich. But they were comfortable. Her father worked hard at his private job, and provided for them. Nothing could come in the way of their studies. She was now responsible for her brothers. How could she let them work before completing their studies?

“Didi. We can’t just sit around and see you working yourself to death.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Soumitra,” she patted his head affectionately; “I am young enough right now. When will I work, if not now? Once you have finished your colleges and gotten good jobs, I would retire early and enjoy life like a queen. Just remember not to ignore me for your wives.” She chuckled.

“Didi!” Soumitra flushed.

“I’m joking. Anyway, isn’t it time for your tuition classes?”

“I’m not going,” Sugata was still seething, “Since you are going to work on behalf of the entire world, why should anyone else do any work? I will sleep, eat and make merry.”

“That’s enough of tantrums. Go out now; else I will make sure you never are able to step out of this house. Not for your cricket, not for your music band!” she had to be a tough parent at times. It appeared unnatural for her age, but had become her natural instinct. Taking charge of the twins, when they were barely eight-years old, and she herself was only eighteen, hadn’t been natural. Life hadn’t been easy in last six years either, but she had managed. Almost! Difficult as it had been, time had flown away fast. Next year Soumitra and Sugata would be writing their board exams. Another two years of school; and she wanted them to go to a good one; then college. Soumitra wanted to be an engineer. That wouldn’t come cheap. Sugata didn’t know what he wanted. He was interested in everything other than studies. That meant more uncertain career choices. He might need support for longer. And there was her own life too. She hadn’t grown old enough to not worry about it. Despite what she said, she had no plans of depending on her brothers even after they started earning. She had seen the disappointment of parents who tried depending on their children and the genuine conflicts and tensions it created.

She needed to earn and save more. Much more!

Rupali had read about autism and needs of autistic children over the weekend. But she was still nervous when she showed up for work. Paritosh’ anxiety was also obvious, although he was clearly a man of few words. He told her about Meenal’s routines and eccentricities. If food was not given to her at exactly the right time, she won’t eat it. She didn’t like being hugged. She was not to be picked up unless she herself asked. Her toys needed to be arranged in a particular order and she played with them according to some pattern only she knew about. “Call me, if she is at all distressed,” he said finally and Rupali nodded.

“Bye Meenu,” he bent down to take leave of his daughter. The softness and affection in his voice was impossible to miss.

“Bye Meenu,” Meenal repeated mechanically, saying her own name, instead of addressing her father.

Paritosh got up to leave. This must be her usual response!

“Mamma… Mamma…” she tugged at Rupali’s kurta as she followed Paritosh to close the door after him. It was awkward as usual. But Rupali hoped to see some reaction from Paritosh. Possibly a nervous, and embarrassed smile, but he gave none. He just looked at his daughter once, a look she didn’t return, and left.

To be continued

Inevitable (Part 1)

Posted 8 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Mamma…. Mamma…” Rupali was surprised by the faint tugging at her kurta. She turned around to find a little girl, about four years old, standing behind her in the aisle of the supermarket.

“I’m sorry,” a tall, handsome man in his thirties rushed towards them and pulled the girl away. He looked flustered.

“It’s okay,” Rupali replied, though feeling awkward by the way the girl had addressed her as ‘Mamma’. The man must be her father.

“Mamma… Mamma….” the girl repeated again. She was unusually unexpressive for her age. Her father made to turn away without explaining anything, when they were spotted by Meher.

“Good morning, Dr. Khanna,” she greeted the man.

“Meher,” he acknowledged her although he looked like he wanted to run away that very moment.

“Good to see you here. This is my friend, Rupali. Rupali Banerjee. Rupali. This is Dr. Paritosh Khanna. Our HOD…”

“Mamma…. Mamma…” the girl tentatively held out a hand towards Rupali, making her flush as badly as Paritosh.

Meher was surprised and looked questioningly at him. Now, he was forced to explain, “There is a TV show she watches. Children’s show. She identifies the mother of one of the kids on the show as Mamma. Your friend, Ms. Banerjee, looks similar to that actress.” Then he turned to Rupali and explained, “She is autistic. Please don’t mind. Have a good day.”

He walked away without waiting for them to react.

“Well… that was awkward,” said Rupali with a nervous smile.

“Yes but… This was extra ordinary, Rupali. Meenal, that’s Dr. Khanna’s daughter, can’t bear any strangers around. I am surprised he brought her for grocery shopping. But with you…”

“She just happened to find likeness in the face.” Rupali acted more nonchalant than she felt. The girl calling her ‘Mamma’ had touched something deep inside her.

“And that could be a boon. Didn’t you want a daytime job, Rupali?”

“So?”

“Dr. Khanna really needs someone to take care of Meenal. Her caretaker of last three years left recently. He has been through hell since then. He even has to take her to the classes with him, while he teaches. Thankfully he is teaching only one course this semester. But…”

“What about her mother?”

“She is dead.”

“Ohh!”

“I don’t know what his opinion would be, but I can propose it to him, if you want.”

Babysitting couldn’t possibly pay as much as she needed. But that girl… “I think it is worth the try,” she mumbled.

“I must warn you about something though.”

“What is it?”

“He isn’t the best employer. His students as well as the department’s staff are on a high alert when he is around. I can sympathize. Life has not been easy on him. But still… I must warn you.”

“We’ll see if the job works out at all.”

“Yeah. Good idea. I will let you know.”

They finished paying for their groceries and came out of the supermarket.

“This job is difficult. Why do you think you can do it?” Paritosh asked her. He had almost raised this objection when Meher had told him about the possibility of Rupali becoming Meenal’s caretaker. The earlier caretaker had come before Meenal’s problems were evident and diagnosed.  After she left, Paritosh didn’t think another nanny would be enough. He would have to employ a trained psychologist, or probably leave her in some care centre for the day. But then he decided to talk to Rupali once. If Meenal identifying her as her favorite character was not a one-time aberration, it might just work.

“I have taken care of my twin brothers since they were eight-years old, Sir. I am patient with children.” She looked at Meenal who was playing with play-dough sitting at some distance from them, unaware of her presence.

“They were normal children.”

“You, of all the people, should not be talking about normal and abnormal, Dr. Khanna. She is just different…”

“It doesn’t matter what the experts on Internet say, Ms. Banerjee, or what I say, this is what the world says about her. Even her mother… Anyway. Point is, it is more difficult than handling other children.”

Something drew Meenal’s attention towards them at that very moment.

“Mamma… Mamma…” she said in the same tone as earlier. She didn’t make any attempts to move though. Rupali smiled at her and stretched her hand towards her, indicating her to come closer. Paritosh looked on impassively, as Meenal got up and walked towards Rupali. She touched her outstretched hand once, but did not hold it. Rupali smiled and pulled her hands away.

“Mamma… Mamma…” Meenal rocked herself while standing there. Rupali made to hold her, when Paritosh stopped her, “Don’t hug her. She doesn’t like that.”

“Okay,” Rupali suppressed her irritation at Paritosh’ tone and just stretched her hands once again towards Meenal. This time she held it.

“She will help me, Sir,” Rupali looked at Paritosh and said, “If you would give me a chance.”

He let out a quick sigh and said, “Fine. When can you start?”

“From today, if you want.”

“I am here on weekends. You can come from Monday.”

“Sure Sir.” Rupali’s felt like a burden was taken off her. Something told her that the little girl needed her. If her father hadn’t agreed… But now the practical side of the arrangement started nagging her. “Sir… Just one thing…”

“What is it?”

“Salary?”

“How much do you expect?”

“This is the first time I am taking up such a job. If you could tell me how much were you paying her earlier caretaker…”

“Ten thousands a month.”

Rupali gulped. She was expecting much less. And that’s why was apprehensive about taking up the job. If she could push him up a bit further, she would be able to meet her target salary.

“Sir. I don’t mind putting in extra hours, or working on weekends. But I need fifteen…”

Paritosh frowned and Rupali fidgeted. He must be thinking of her as an opportunist. Taking advantage of the fact that his autistic daughter had taken to her. But what could she do? She had to be…

“If you are indeed able to take care of her, I will pay you fifteen. But you have to prove yourself. To her, not to me.”

“Yes Sir. I will do my best, Sir.”

“Fine. Monday. At nine in the morning.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 20)

Posted 9 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Rupali,” Asim spoke to Rupali alone before leaving, “I know that I startled you with the proposal of a wedding in Kolkata with me making the arrangements. I am sorry. My idea is not to impose myself on you. So, if you say no, I won’t mention it again. I had been thinking about it for a while. But had not been sure how to talk about it. It just came out on the dinner table,” he paused for a moment before continuing, “The reason I want to do it is…. selfish. It will make me really happy. I had wanted to be a father to you. I genuinely had. Unfortunately, the way the game of life played out, I didn’t get to do that. But that wish, that feeling never went away. You have no idea how I had leapt with joy when you called me after our accidental meeting at the concert. I couldn’t be a father to you in your growing up years. But all through those years, every time I thought about Mou, I also thought about you. In my obsessed mind, I had a daughter. Not that I could do anything for her, but I had her. If you would let me do this, arrange your wedding, it’d make me really happy. However, don’t feel any pressure to say ‘yes’. Do it only if it’d make you happy too, or if it doesn’t interfere with your happiness at least. Okay?”

Rupali’s eyes were moist at his honest declaration. “I am just the luckiest person in the world Mr. Sen, surrounded by so many people who care for me. But for this I’d need to consult Paritosh as well.”

“Of course.”

Paritosh hadn’t objected. The winter break had come and they had all flown to Kolkata. The wedding was lavish, arrangement impeccable and the concert was grand. Despite feeling extremely conscious Mouli had sung with Asim once. It was one of the songs she had written and composed herself all those years back. The song had received a cult following in Kolkata in those days. When Asim announced that Mouli was the songwriter, the applause refused to die down for several minutes. All her songs were credited in his albums. With the name “M. Chatterjee”. Nobody knew who that was. And most people did not look for the names of the lyricists.

The newlyweds were not sure about leaving Mouli alone for their honeymoon. But Asim promised to take care of her when they were gone. So, they went on a week-long trip to Mauritius. Mouli had stayed back in Kolkata for that period. She didn’t agree to stay at Asim’s house. But he made arrangements for someone to be always there with her in her hotel suite. Whenever he didn’t have any engagement, he stayed with her himself.

Paritosh and Rupali landed back in Kolkata. They were to go back to Mumbai after three days.

“Ma. You had to get your check-up done the day before. Did you…” Rupali started asking after Mouli’s health as soon as they entered her room.

“Yes Rupali,” Asim replied before Mouli could, “Relax. We got the recommendation for a local doctor from her doctor in Mumbai and we took her there. Everything is in control. No effect whatsoever of stress from the wedding.”

“What stress did I have that it should make a difference,” Mouli said with a smile, “Asim had made all arrangements. I was here like a guest.”

“Come on…”

“She is right Mr. Sen,” Paritosh interrupted with a smile, “That was true for both of us as well. But none of us are complaining. We enjoyed it thoroughly.”

Rupali noticed that Asim’s eyes betrayed more emotions and happiness than his smile or facial expressions did. He was really happy to have played that role.

But it happened that afternoon itself. Her breathing became laboured. “It’s a stroke,” Rupali screamed, “Ambulance. Let’s get an ambulance. And call the doctor for immediate help.”

They had managed to revive her for a while. But even the doctor was bewildered. Such severe blockage. It wasn’t there two days ago. How could it happen so soon? Another surgery wasn’t an option. Too risky.

“You will be all right, Mou,” Asim stroked her hand. She shook her head to the extent she could. “My songs were all I had ever given to you Asim. They are all I will leave you with. I stopped singing, but not writing. Rupa. Two diaries are there in the shelves with his albums. Hand them over to him.”

“Ma. You will do that yourself,” Rupali was having trouble holding her tears back.

“It was my fault Rupa that you grew up fatherless, when you could have had such a wonderful and responsible father. Now, I leave you in his care. Give him the respect you always gave me. Okay?”

Rupali just nodded. A lump had already formed in her throat and if she tried to speak, she would cry.

“Paritosh. You brought Asim back in my life. I can never thank you enough for that. I am dying happy and fulfilled. Try to find the happiness you deserve in Rupa. I have nothing else to give to you.”

“You have given me the family I had lost one by one. I don’t want to lose my family again. You are not going anywhere.”

A weak smile formed on Mouli’s lips, “That light there… It’s very bright. But it doesn’t feel hot. It is very soothing…”

Paritosh looked around. It was clear to all of them that she was hallucinating.

“Mrs. Banerjeee. Ma….” Paritosh tried to bring her back.

Mouli’s hands felt heavy in Asim’s and he looked at her face in shock. It was expressionless. The beautiful, ever smiling face had death’s whiteness all over it. “Nurse,” he shouted.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said. Nurse had already told them this. But the doctor was needed to give an official confirmation, “She has passed away.”

Rupali’s silent tears became miserable sobs. Paritosh held her and tried to comfort her, his own eyes betraying his pain and loss. Asim walked to them and patted Rupali’s head, “She died a happy woman, Rupali. Don’t cry and distress her now. She’d be looking at you.”

‘Jiboner Jatra’ (life’s journey) became the new best-selling album for Asim Sen. In the beginning of the recording he had emotionally introduced Mouli as the lyricist and reminded people of the songs they had loved. Probably for the first time in the history, people bought the album not for the singer, but for the lyricist. The royalties were all going to Rupali. She had objected at first. But Asim had a reply ready, “You have a right over what you parents earn. You can’t just turn away from it.” He’d be recording more albums with Mouli’s songs.

Rupali sat down with Bengali-English dictionary every day for one hour and read her mother’s poetry. “I wish I knew Bengali better,” she lamented before Paritosh. “I wish I knew Bengali at all,” he laughed, “Why don’t you explain this poem to me in English or Hindi.”

“If the dictionary isn’t failing me, this one means

We are the product
Of our choices
Let’s not blame
Forced sacrifices.

Sacrifices too after all
Are our own choices
World is not responsible
Responsible are our inner voices.

Grow the roots
Or chase the sky?
Decide for yourself
To stay or to fly.

Happiness comes in
Different things.
In growing fruits,
And in growing wings.

You might not have
Both the things.
But you can savour
What one of them brings.

We are the product
Of our choices
Let’s not blame
Forced sacrifices.”

“Beautiful!” Paritosh exclaimed, “And it rhymed in English too.”

Rupali chuckled, “Born to a poetess, married to poet, I had to try it. Rhyming is awkward, but I am trying to translate them in English.”

“Wonderful idea. I’ll get them published.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” he said as he lied down, kept his head in her lap and shut her eyes. Knowing Mouli and having Rupali were the blessings he couldn’t thank God enough for. Rupali kept aside the notebook and dictionary and bent down to plant a kiss on Paritosh’ forehead. She could feel lucky anew everyday with this man!

– The End –

Hopeless Hope (Part 19)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Rupali!” Paritosh’ alarmed look at the door-bell ringing changed to a happily excited one when he saw who was at the door. He held her hands and led her inside the house closing the door after them. He held her wordlessly before him for a few moments and then planted a slow, sensuous, lingering kiss on her lips. She was smiling shyly when they parted. “Thanks for coming,” he whispered to her and started caressing her back and nape right there.

“Dr. Khanna,” she objected through her laboured breath.

“What happened?”

“Raja…” she referred to the housekeeper.

Paritosh grinned, “Raja is not a problem. He is fast asleep. But ‘Dr. Khanna’ is. We’ll get rid of it tonight. Come.”

He led her to his bedroom. The lavishness of the room was something she was used to by now.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked after she was seated on the bed. She just shook her head in reply.

“Aren’t you going to talk?”

“Ma thought we had fought,” Rupali said with a smile of shared understanding.

He smiled and sat down beside her. “Did we?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“No,” her voice was hardly audible, but she also shook her head. Her eyes were lowered.

He cupped her face and lifted it to make her look into his eyes, “I am sorry. For scaring you earlier in the evening.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t complain to Ma about it,” she chuckled at her own joke.

“Not even about your crumpled clothes?” Partiosh mocked seriousness.

“No.”

“But they will be crumpled again.”

“This is satin. It won’t crumple.”

“You are telling me we are safe.”

“Yes.”

It was only for so long that he could keep himself away from those lips of hers on which a naughty smile was playing. But if their encounter earlier in the evening was like getting high on tequila shots, this one was like sipping a vintage wine slowly to savour the subtle, delicate taste. He went slowly and she responded in the same rhythm. But that didn’t lessen the power he had over her. Her body grew needier by the moment. She arched her back, grabbed at the sheets and literally struggled under his weight with the sensations running through her body. When he could see that she was at his mercy and he himself was on the edge, he whispered in her ear, “You know what I am waiting for. I want to hear your voice, please Rupali.”

She shut her eyes tightly. How she hated and loved him at the same time! He was really going to use that moment to get her to call him by name? She won’t give in. But that resolve did not last long. The only way to not give in was to pull away from him. Otherwise her need would kill her.  And pulling away was not an option for her. He must also know that. What else could explain her coming to him at that hour? Slipping out like a teenager after her mother was asleep?

“Paritosh. Please!!”

She wasn’t the only one who was helpless. He would have liked to make her repeat that name. Again and again! But his own self-control was giving way. He nibbled at her earlobes as the last act of foreplay and entered her making her gasp in surprise at first, but moan in pleasure later.

“I need to go back,” she sat up after a while.

“Do you?”

“Yes. It would be awkward if Ma wakes up to not find me at home.”

“She takes her medicines. She won’t wake up before morning, right? I will walk you back before that. Let’s say at three in the morning?”

“What if we fall asleep?”

“I will set an alarm.”

“Fine, Dr. Khanna.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Looks like you are a dumb student in this course. Shall we repeat the lesson?”

“No. No,” she protested, “You were being mean. That was not a fair trick at all.”

“Everything is fair in love and war, Rupali. And I had fairly requested you many a times earlier.”

Rupali smiled in defeat, but still argued, “It is the habit of years.”

“We hadn’t even spoken for over six years Rupali. How can it be a habit? Of years?”

“Habit from thought, if not from speech. Our not speaking didn’t mean I didn’t think about you, did it?”

“No,” he conceded with a smile, “Then let me appeal on the grounds of change. A lot has changed since the time when we didn’t speak to, only thought of, each other, hasn’t it? So, how you address me needs to change as well.”

“I will try. But I feel very awkward. Especially before others. People in the department, for example…”

“Fine. Let’s start with it in private at least?”

“Okay.”

And they talked on. Intimately and comfortably. About their past, other people in their lives, about their future dreams!

The alarm came handy not for waking them up. But for reminding them that she needs to be back at her house.

“You don’t need to come with me, Dr. Khanna. It isn’t unsafe. Stay in bed.”

“Firstly, if you call me Dr. Khanna, nothing you ask for is going to be accepted. Secondly I just want those five extra minutes with you, walking down the road.”

Rupali blushed and grinned as both of them got out of the bed and dressed up to step out.

“Mou. You should sing with me,” Asim was back in town after couple of weeks and was dining with them.

“Sing with you? Where?”

“Wherever! On the stage. In an album.”

“Ma sings?” Rupali was surprised.

“Used to,” Mouli replied before Asim could, “Long, long back. In some other era, Rupa. Asim is joking.”

“I am not joking. Because your mother was very promising as a singer and as a songwriter.”

“Songwriter? As in poetry?”

“Do you hear Bengali songs, Rupali? Have you heard ‘Majhir Nouka’ sung by me?”

“Ma has the recording. She has played it several times.”

“Who do you think was lyricist?”

“I… never found out. You are telling me it was Ma?”

Asim smiled and confirmed it with a shrug that indicated that it was obvious.

“Wow! What all do I not know about you, Ma?”

“Nothing that matters, Rupa. It was all a long time ago.”

“Well. It matters a lot to me,” Asim said, “Until I ran out of the songs from the notebook you had left with me, most of my performances and recordings used your lyrics. Only after that…”

“Good you ran out of them then,” Mouli laughed slightly in a self-deprecating fashion, “Because it is only after you picked up other poets and lyricists that you started becoming famous.”

“That is again not true. Do you know Rupali which is my best-selling album till date?”

“I’d do some Wikipedia search on you before we meet next time, but for now – no. I don’t know.”

Asim laughed, “Since I didn’t understand exactly what you intend to do to find out before we meet next time, I will tell you. My best-selling album is one of Bengali songs and not of Hindi as one would expect. It is called ‘Jibon-Dhara’ – meaning ‘the stream of life’. ‘Majhir Nouka’ belongs to that album. And all other songs in that album were also written by Mou.”

Mouli colored. “I had no idea,” she mumbled. She actually didn’t know that ‘Jibon-Dhara’ was his best selling album.

Rupali stared wide-eyed from Mouli to Asim. Then her eyes fell on Paritosh. He had been silent, but was obviously quite surprised by the revelations.  “In a way, I am not surprised,” he spoke when he felt Rupali’s eyes on him, “Her sensitivity is incomparable. It is not at all surprising that there is a poet’s heart behind it. A great poet’s. What is surprising is, of course, that we didn’t know the extent of her achievements and the sacrifices she made…”

“For me,” Rupali added with some sadness.

“No Paritosh, Rupa. I made no sacrifices. I only took some decisions. We all have to choose between difficult options from time to time. And I believe that we are all the results of our choices, not that of any forced sacrifices. And Rupa. You don’t be an idiot. Even if you term that choice as a sacrifice, it was made at a time when you weren’t even born. The choice was made when I had decided to not wait for Asim and move on in my life.”

“But why not continue with music? With writing?” Rupali asked.

Mouli replied in a low voice, “That would have made moving on impossible. Music was too strongly related to him.”

“So coming to my original point,” Asim said cheerfully to make the mood lighter, “You should sing again, Mou. With me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Asim. The number of years for which I have not practiced is more than the number of years I had learnt.”

“You might not remember the technique, but the soul can’t go away. Music is in your soul.”

“Granted. But the audience won’t be forgiving about technique. I don’t want rotten tomatoes and onions on stage or the studio going bankrupt trying to record me at some minimum acceptable quality.”

“She doesn’t leave much scope for me to talk her out of her conviction, does she?” Asim addressed Rupali and Paritosh, “Fine. We’ll sing together in their wedding. You have to accept that, Mou.”

“Sing in their wedding?”

“We’ll have a live concert during the reception. I will sing and you will sing too.”

“You are so adamant, Asim.”

“What option do I have? One has to work hard to get small concessions from you.”

“Right. Right. Make me sound like an evil woman,” Mouli laughed, “If they agree to having a concert for their reception, I don’t have any objection.”

“I don’t see what is objectionable in that,” Rupali said and looked at Paritosh. He nodded in agreement.

“Actually, I have a better proposal. Let’s get them married in Kolkata. We’d have a great musical gathering then.”

“Kolkata? Come on Asim,” Mouli objected, “Who is going to make arrangements there?”

“I will. And you plan to get married during winter break, right? The weather will also be good.”

“But Mr. Sen, it will be too much of a hassle,” this extended proposal made Rupali and Paritosh uncomfortable.

“They are right, Asim,” Mouli agreed.

“Mou please,” Asim was sincere, “I want to do it. Please.”

Mouli sighed, “I understand you, Asim. But it is not for me to decide. Why don’t we give them some time and see if they are comfortable.”

“Sure.”

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 18)

Posted Leave a commentPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

“Do you still have that dress with Rupali? The one you had worn then?” Paritosh asked after Asim’s car had picked Mouli up in the evening and they were left on their own. They were in Rupali’s room.

“When?”

“On our first dinner,” he said with some hesitation, hoping that she understood.

“Of course,” she said without realizing which first dinner he was talking about. “I am not a celebrity. I can wear a dress many a times,” she joked, “Where would it go away so soon?”

“Which one are you talking about?”

“The one… Oh! Which one are you talking about?”

“Our first dinner…”

“Oh! Oh God! I don’t know. I don’t remember what I had worn. You do?”

“All too well,” he smiled, “It was a cream dress, with red dupatta…”

She felt guilty about lying. She remembered the dress as well as he did. But she continued her pretence, “I don’t have it now. I gained weight. It didn’t fit any longer.” She had shredded the dress into pieces in one of her depressive fits.

“Hmm…”

“Why were you asking about that?”

“I was just wondering. Never saw you in it again. It looked good.” He also lied. He wanted her in that dress that evening. But there was no point making an issue out of it. “And anyway,” he continued, “It is a thing of past when I had to live with the memories of your dresses, your old exam papers, your project reports, the taste of a piece of fried fish etc. Now I have you, right?”

Rupali smiled shyly and nodded. Paritosh encircled her in his arms and pulled her close. She pressed and ran her palms against his chest. Her eyes were lowered and voice low as she spoke, “I’m probably supposed to resist… at least a little, to act unwilling, to run away, to say that we should wait…  or whatever… But I won’t be able to do any of that Dr. Khanna. I am too much in love to do any of that. I have thought about you, waited for you, and wanted you for too long to be able to do any of that. I don’t know if I am spoiling things for you, but I am just helpless…” Her fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt and she had unbuttoned one.

“Are you?”

She looked up puzzled.

“I doubt you are that helpless, Rupali.”

The colour drained out of her face. Was so much of honesty a mistake?

“There is something you have been resisting for long.”

What on earth did he mean? Her throat went dry.

“Aren’t you going to ask what it is?”

Rupali was thoroughly confused. She felt like she was being asked humiliating questions in a court. She tried to step back and get away from him. But instead of letting her do that, he tightened his arms around her even further.

She was now forced to speak. She tried to use her saliva to restore some function to her parched throat. “I don’t know what are you talking about, Dr. Khanna. Just now I probably said things that were inappropriate…”

“Of course. Hadn’t I told you long back that among colleagues, we are on a first name basis here?”

“Excuse me?”

“And between fiancées we definitely are so.”

“Dr. Khanna. You…”

“Paritosh!”

“No. I can’t do that. And let me go. You scared the hell out of me. I hate you.” She struggled to be freed. But he was stronger.

“Too much of resistance for one evening, Dr. Banerjee,” he was amused and liked this game.

She stopped struggling, grew completely still. She wasn’t looking at him. He was surprised with his lack of reaction. He continued to hold her with one of his arms and used the other hand to lift her chin. He was surprised to see that her eyes were full of tears.

“Hey! What happened? Why are you… I…” he brought up his other hand and cupped her face with both his hands, “I am sorry, Rupali. I was joking. You know that. Why are you crying?”

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again.” That steely voice! She assumed it rarely. The last time she had spoken like that to him was when she was worried that her mother’s health would suffer because of him.

“It was just a joke, Rupali,” he tried to explain miserably.

“Do you have any idea how terrified I am of the possibility that you would go away if I did anything wrong? In a moment of weakness I decided to be utterly honest with you and the next moment with you talking the way you did, I thought that I had made a mistake. And I had lost you. Again and forever!” Tears started flowing freely from her eyes.

He did not say anything, but his eyes reflected her pain. He led her to the bed, sat down on it with her and cuddled her until she had calmed down. He repeatedly kissed her hair and forehead and caressed her upper arms soothingly in that time.

“The only thing,” he finally said in a husky whisper, “That your honest confession had done to me was – and I have no better or poetic words to convey it – to arouse me excessively.” She didn’t lift her eyes to him, but he felt her shiver. “Allow me to prove it,” he said as he gently made her lie down on the bed. Rupali forgot all about her tears and her anger at him as he started kissing her face. Gently, but with surety. With the knowledge that she wanted it as much as he did. He paid attention to her neck next and she arched her head back to give him access while clutching on to the bed-sheet to stop herself from thrashing around too much. The sensation was incredible. Suddenly he licked one of her ear-lobes and a moan skipped from her, even though she bit her lips to stop it. “I need to know,” he whispered in her ears, “That you are with me.” As his hands caressed her breasts and belly, she let go of her hesitations and lifted her hands to his head. She dug her fingers in his hair and caressed them urgently. Then she brought her hands to his chest again and restarted the job of unbuttoning him. When she rubbed her palms against his bare chest, he gave out a loud gasp of delight.

“Talk to me, Rupali,” he said as he rolled over on the bed so that she was now on top of him.

“I love you,” it seemed like the words had flown out of her mouth despite herself and her next words almost confirmed it, “Hopelessly and helplessly.”

“Me too,” he replied and let her take the lead in the kiss that followed, responding to her rhythm and pace. Then he rolled over again pinning her beneath him, undressing her to the extent he could without letting her out of his hold. “Let go, Rupali,” he hissed. And she did let go. Their passionate exploration of each other’s bodies was interrupted by the sound of a car stopping outside the house.

“Oh God! Ma is back!” Rupali exclaimed. Paritosh got up hastily, freeing her. Silently, but hurriedly they smoothened their clothes. Rupali had been wearing a cotton top. “This is too crumpled. I need to change,” she said, “You go out in the hall before they come in.” But as he made to leave, she noticed something on the bed. “Dr. Khanna. Keep this,” she handed him a packet of condoms. It must have slipped out of his pocket earlier.

“You can keep this somewhere here. I don’t want to be carrying it in my pocket.”

“What are you talking about? How would this packet look if discovered in my room? She isn’t going to check your pocket, is she?”

“Right,” he mumbled foolishly and went out.

Paritosh was in calm enough after stepping out. He greeted Mouli and Asim and they sat down in the hall.

“Where is Rupa?” Mouli asked.

“In her room. She is changing.”

“Changing? Why? Are you guys going out now?”

“No. Actually… I don’t know why she is changing.”

“I see,” Mouli said amusedly and Paritosh’ foolish reply, “You are the most non-interfering kind, is it?”

Asim laughed out loud. Paritosh felt that he guessed what was going on and tried hard not to blush.

Rupali came out by then. “So, why did you change, Rupa?” Mouli asked still smiling. She was in a good mood.

“I had spoiled my top, Ma,” Rupali had thought about it while changing and had the answer ready, “While eating.”

“Okay. So, you guys had your dinner?” Mouli was not interrogating, but it almost outed Rupali and Paritosh because Rupali replied in negative instinctively.

Paritosh gave her a what-the-hell look and she realized her mistake. “We were having some juice and snacks,” she added to explain her earlier insconsistency.

“Okay. Have your dinner then. It is quite late.”

“Yes Ma. Shall I get dinner for you and Mr. Sen too?”

“No. We had our dinner. I just invited him in for a cup of tea.”

“I will get tea for you and him.”

They sat on the dining table together. Asim having his hot and Mouli her iced, unsweetened tea as Rupali and Paritosh had their dinner. Mouli noticed some awkwardness between Paritosh and Rupali.

“Have you fought with Paritosh?” she asked Rupali after Asim and Paritosh had left.

“What? No!” Fight! Whatever happened to her mother’s perceptiveness? But for this misperception she was not complaining. It was for good that she didn’t realize what made them awkward.

To be continued

Hopeless Hope (Part 17)

Posted 2 CommentsPosted in English, Original, Rupali-Paritosh

Mouli and Asim were still talking when Paritosh and Rupali came back. They overheard part of their conversation as they walked in.

“Since I come to Mumbai so often, I have a house here too. Didn’t like spending too much time in hotels. I am going to Kolkata tomorrow morning. Have a concert there in the evening. But I will be back after that.”

“A concert tomorrow evening? You should have travelled earlier.”

“Travelling today had been the original plan.”

“You cancelled because of Rupa’s invitation?” she asked looking emotional.

“To be fair to her, she had asked me for Friday night. But weekends were booked. I came for you.”

“You have been an idiot Asim, you know that. You should have moved on.”

“I have been an idiot forever. You know that very well. Else we both know that my family could have supported us initially. My priorities were wrong. Despite all that, despite there being no reason for it, I had a hope. Of at least getting back in touch with you. A hopeless hope, I agree. Because the way it was fulfilled was a pure coincidence. If you hadn’t been dragged to that concert, if I hadn’t noticed you, if your daughter had not been so sensitive, if she hadn’t taken the initiative… Yes. It was a hopeless hope.”

Paritosh smiled on hearing ‘hopeless hope’. That phrase resonated with him.

“They are back,” Mouli noticed Rupali and Paritosh, “Come here. I think she has come to remind me that it is time to sleep.” Mouli looked at her daughter fondly.

“I can relax it for today,” Rupali replied.

“No,” Asim said resolutely, “I also have to travel in the morning and need to be rested before the concert tomorrow. You must go to sleep Mou. Can I… call, once I am back in Mumbai?”

Mouli nodded.

“I will e-mail… no SMS you her number,” Rupali said.

Asim grinned at that. “Do you mind storing it in my phone right away? I don’t know how to use SMS either. And I don’t want to go to my secretary for that.”

Only Rupali got the context and laughed at that. “Sure,” she said and entered the number as Mouli and Paritosh looked on quizzically, not understanding their private joke.

Rupali explained to them later what he had told her about e-mail and they shared the laughter. Paritosh left soon after and Rupali sat beside Mouli, “You are not angry at me, Ma. Are you?”

Mouli affectionately patted her cheek, “No. And I am sorry. I scolded you and had almost ruined the evening.”

“Please Ma. Don’t apologize. I am not sure surprise was a good idea. I didn’t know what the past was like. It could have been horrible, I realized later.”

“Don’t think like that.”

“You must sleep now. It is already later than usual.”

“Yes,” she got up to go to her room.

Rupali stopped her once, “Ma.”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t get angry at what I am going to ask.”

“Just ask Rupa.”

“Do you want to get married?”

“What! No. Don’t be ridiculous. It is your marriage I am thinking about.”

“You have thought about me all your life, Ma. But right now…”

“No Rupa. It’s too late. We are different people. If you want me out of your way, I have your Baba’s house to go to. Your Kaku and Kaki don’t mind.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ma,” Rupali used one of her mother’s pet phrases without realizing it.

“I was joking, sweetie. Have a good night.”

Rupali found an envelope at her desk one morning with her name written on it. She knew the handwriting well. Since the time he had graded her answer papers and left comments on her project reports. And only he had the spare key to her office. She smiled as she opened it and her smile grew wider as she read through the note sitting inside.

“Through my dark past,
Through my present insecurities,
Through my misunderstandings,
Through my hesitations,
Thank you, for keeping up
Your hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me
A hopeless hope.
Thank you, for fulfilling
That hopeless hope.
Thank you, for giving me strength
To hope for more than hopeless.
And with that strength
I ask –
Will you marry me?

A responsible son, husband, son-in-law, he definitely was. But he had the ability to be a hopeless romantic as well! She thought for a moment and then took out her notebook. She started modifying something she had written a few days back on his encouragement.

“Tranquillity of night
Gives way to
Clarity of day.

Coolness of night
Gives way to
Brightness of day.

Escapades of night
Give way to
Acceptance of day.

Hopelessness of night
Gives way to
Hopes of Day.

Loneliness of years
Has to give way to
Togetherness for life.

Yes!

Paritosh read it and then looked up with moist, bright eyes. He went to the office door and locked it. For once, not caring about what anyone would think. He held her and informed that his divorce had come through. She had guessed as much. Then he cupped her face and bent down for a long kiss sealing their fate together. He didn’t let go of her even after breaking the kiss. His hands moved back and dug into her hair. He then directed her head to his chest and put his other arm around her to embrace her. Her arms which were resting on both sides of his chest went around his neck completing the embrace. She didn’t know much about perfumes. But whatever he used had such subtle, intoxicating smell that it must be something costly whose habit he had acquired in his days of extravagance. Between the perfume and his body, it had become his smell. Something she was very familiar with by now. And very much in love with. Desire was probably a better word, she thought truthfully to herself. And then her prayers were answered. He whispered to her in a bold, demanding tone, “I want you Rupali. Tonight.” She shivered at the suddenness of his demand, rather the declaration. He had said that he “wanted” her. But his voice made it clear that he had “decided” that he would have her. Her heart started pounding faster than she had imagined it to be possible. But none of her reactions meant a complaint. She had dying to have this moment with him for years now. She snuggled up even closer to him and that was her reply.

This other-worldly tour in the middle of his office was interrupted by a knock on the door. Paritosh broke the hug unwillingly and looked at the door with mild irritation. “What couldn’t wait?” he mumbled; then looked at Rupali, “I will get the door. Don’t come out unless absolutely necessary.”

She nodded. It was someone from the director’s office. The director wanted to meet him in the afternoon.  “Fine. I will be there,” Paritosh tried to keep his voice as controlled as possible. He guarded the door until the visitor was out of sight. Then he did not close the door again.

“Is Mrs. Banerjee’s plan of visiting Mr. Sen still on?”

Rupali only nodded. She would have to search for words in her throat. They seemed to have deserted her in the aftermath of anticipation created by Paritosh.

“If you don’t have anything important to attend to in the afternoon, let’s go to her before she leaves and tell her about this. After my meeting with the director.”

“Tell her about what?” The shock overcame the anticipation and Rupali found her voice. She was thinking about nothing other than his declaration that he wanted her that night.

“About our decision to get married.”

“Oh!” He was talking about the proposal and acceptance, official engagement, wedding. Of course! What was she thinking?

“What did you think?”

“Nothing. I was just a little lost. Let me know once you meeting gets over.”

“Rupali,” he stopped her as she made to the door. She looked at him curiously. “You weren’t so lost that you didn’t hear me, right? You heard and understood me, didn’t you?”

She gulped and nodded. His insecurities! Will they ever go away? Even if not, she was willing to fight them all her life. “Left to my understanding and preparedness,” she added in a low, soft voice, “we wouldn’t have to wait till now.”

She left Paritosh desperate and satisfied at the same time. Her bold reply had increased his desire for her.  And had also assured him of her desires for him.

“I have done it wrong twice earlier. And you didn’t try to correct me, Mou. If I am doing something wrong again, please correct me. But don’t let me suffer for it.”

“What are you talking about?” Mouli asked as she sipped her unsweetened ice tea. Asim had found out from Rupali that it had been the drink of her choice since she was diagnosed with diabetes.

“Marry me Mou. And if you are going to say ‘no’, tell me how to make you say ‘yes’. Please.”

“Did Rupa tell you something?”

“About?”

“This?”

“No. Why would you think so?”

“Just wanted to be sure. Asim, my daughter is planning to get married. I have to think about her wedding, not mine.”

“Let me help you with her wedding, Mou. Let me be the partner to you that I have always wanted to be.”

“You won’t help me if we were not married?” Mouli asked looking amused.

“Words! They are your biggest weapons, aren’t they? I didn’t mean that. You know that very well.”

“Yes Asim. I know that. And you also know that I was joking.”

“Why are you refusing me again?”

“Asim. I never had an artist’s eccentricity. I was never as irreverent as you were. Otherwise I could have waited for you all those years ago, instead of succumbing to my parent’s wishes. I am still the same person Asim. Getting married at this age… I don’t know how to feel comfortable with that idea.”

“It was for your parents’ wishes then. Who are you sacrificing for now? Do you think Rupali will dislike it?”

“Rupa?” Mouli laughed affectionately, “No. No Asim. She is a mature and open-minded girl. She has the conviction to get married to a man many years his senior, a match that is definitely going to cause some raised eyebrows in the society. But she doesn’t care. She, in fact, persisted in her love and fought hard against his insecurities…”

“Something I couldn’t do.”

“She did have some advantage of my counsel. But her own belief was the most important part. She asked me much before you did if I wanted to get married. She is not my problem, Asim.”

“Then?”

“I don’t see myself as a victim of circumstances. I had loved you despite knowing what you were – an artist first, a lover much later; and despite knowing what I was. A conventional girl next door first, everything else later. I hadn’t been coerced into my marriage Asim. It was a result of my own choices. The choice of fulfilling my parents’ wishes, because ignoring them for my artist lover and living an uncertain life was not a comfortable situation for me.  Today too, it is I who is not comfortable in announcing to the world that I am getting married. This old woman has grown from the same simple, conventional girl next door. I still don’t have the irreverence. Nobody would coerce me, my daughter would not judge me, even I would not judge if someone else were to do this. But I… I won’t be able to do it.”

“There definitely is something that I don’t see here. Last time also I had assumed that you were resolutely against marrying me, because you didn’t find me good enough. But it turned out to be something else.”

“The only other thing that nobody other than me sees here is that I am on death’s door, Asim. I have not given you anything all my life. I haven’t been a part of your life for most of it. I don’t want to come in with death now. No.”

Asim sighed, leaned towards her and took her hands in his, “Why have you gotten it in your head Mou? Your surgery has been successful. The follow-ups show great results.”

She did not reply and looked at him with a helpless ‘I-can’t-explain’ expression.  He grew desperate, “Mou. It’s not like I am young any longer. But whatever little time I have left with me, finding you feels like I have gotten another chance. I don’t want to lose you once again… Please…”

“And you have done nothing wrong this time, Asim. That is not a regret you will ever have. I am the one who is lucky. To have found you a third time. I don’t want to squander this chance away either. But the time to be together in a worldly sense is over. We have been star-crossed lovers. Let’s be the soul-mates we have always been. Let’s not try to give this connection a name now and invite all the associated complications. I have been through them and I don’t have any strength left.”

“Fine. So long as you are happy and we are together, I will ask for nothing else.”

“I am. But are you?”

“I have more than I deserve. Name, fame, money, and you!”

To be continued