Mish' Fiction

“Karishma. With what I know of them, my guess is that they believe in astrology.”

“Ardently. You see all these rings in all shapes, colors and sizes? Two years of marriage and I was still not pregnant. That’s why!”

“Were you having difficulty in conceiving?”

“No. I was taking pills. I hadn’t told them.”

“Hmm… That’s convenient. What if…”

Mou told her about her idea. Together they fleshed it out even better.

“Do you know any actors, then?” Karishma asked at the end.

“Better. There are people who help us in sting operations. They are real-life actors. Better than on-screen ones.”

“Mou. This plan has to succeed.”

“But tell me, Karishma. You are depending on Prof. Sen. I don’t know what you expect him to do. But whatever it is, don’t you think you should talk to him at least once? What if he is married, for instance?”

“He won’t have married.”

“How are you so sure? You moved on, why shouldn’t he?”

“It’s not about me, Mou. Don’t ask me be betray the secrets I know. Please. There are too many if’s and but’s here. But… I have to give it a try. If I call him… I don’t know… He or I may talk myself out of it. If I reach there… Something will work out.”

—

Jain household was in a commotion. The astrologer that has visited them on Mou’s recommendation had been quite brutal about it. It was some dosha in Karishma’s charts and she needed to do a penance for a year, if she were to get pregnant. And she had to stay away from the family. She must not see any family member in that duration. There were some conditions even on which place she should go to. After doing multiple calculations, the astrologer had zeroed in on Dharmshala.

“Dharmshala? Where is that… Himachal… Too far… Without family… One year… Impossible…”

Karishma had not known she was capable of so much theatrics. She had begged to her mother-in-law.

“Please Mummy. Please consider. Mou has sent him. She doesn’t even believe in astrology, but she said that this person has always been right. It has been two years. How miserable do you think I feel? Everyone asks me. At home, outside, friends… Send Geeta Chaachi with me. All I have to do there is pray and live religiously. One year, Mummy. Please.”

There had been extensive consultations. Even Karishma’s mother had been called. Vikram was not convinced at all. But, to Karishma’s surprise and relief, begging with her mother-in-law had worked. She gave her consent finally; then rest of the family also followed after that.

—

The door was open. Two students were there in his office, and he was engrossed in a discussion with them. She stood there silently for a while. She needed to ensure that she didn’t end up crying as soon as she spoke. At length, she felt tranquil enough to speak. “Prof. Sen.”

“Yes?” he looked up and his eyes remained glued to her for a long second. “Is that Karishma?” She couldn’t be sure what took him so long. Recognizing her; or believing that it was indeed she?

She bit her lips to control her extreme emotions and smiled through it. He turned to his students hastily, “Send me an e-mail. We can meet again tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir,” they left immediately.

Karishma walked in and shut the door behind her. He walked around the table and stood in front of her. “You look so different,” he said, his voice unsteady.

Instead of replying, she just went forward and threw her arms around him. He reciprocated without hesitating. “Oh God! Yes. I am so happy to see you. Really, really happy.”

“How are you? What have you been up to?” he asked when they broke the hug.

“Don’t ask me anything right now, Prof. Sen. I will tell you all. In good time. Right now… Oh – just don’t talk…”

“All right. What should I do? Where should we go? Right? First… are you with somebody? Do you have time now?”

“I am alone and have all the time in the world for next one year.”

“One year… one year.. wow!  Will you… will you come… home?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go. I am done here for the day.”

—

Siddhartha continued to be edgy on their way to his home and was no better once they reached.

“What should I get you… Coffee… Tea… Damn… I don’t even know what you like…. I should have something to eat here…”

“Prof. Sen,” she chuckled and interrupted him, “You look as nervous as I was before Science exam in high school. What for?”

“What for indeed?” he grinned, becoming conscious of his odd behavior, “I don’t know. You have just thrown me off-balance by suddenly appearing before me. And alone, you say. You haven’t run away, have you?”

It didn’t escape his notice that instead of laughing at his joke, she pursed her lips and her smile faded away. “Not exactly,” she replied forcing the smile again, “But let’ not talk of my sob story today. You tell me. How have you been? What have you been doing?”

“I have been keeping myself busy. Teaching, publishing… I am even trying to write a novel.”

“That’s great. Tell me about it…”

He settled on tea and brought out some biscuits, as they continued chatting. He talked about his students, his colleagues, his neighbors and all the things he was keeping busy with. While the undercurrents of loneliness were obvious, she was happy to observe that he was wasn’t discontent with his life.

—

“Who was he?” Geeta demanded when Siddhartha dropped her at the house they had rented for a year in Dharmshala.

Karishma was feeling happy after a long time. She didn’t want to spoil her mood. So, she gave an evasive answer instead of confronting Geeta about it. “He was a professor from my college, Chachi. He now stays here. So, I met up with him. We will need to make acquaintances here.”

Geeta groaned in reply, but didn’t say anything. “Shall I bring dinner for you?”

Karishma had eaten with Siddhartha. But she didn’t want to draw Geeta’s attention towards him yet. So, she asked him to bring the dinner to her room.

—

To be continued

Karishma was agitated and unnerved. She spent the rest of the day with Mou. By the time she came back, Vikram was already at home.

“Where were you?” he asked dryly.

“I was with Mou.”

“You had some work?”

“She wanted to go shopping.”

“You should come back before six.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and picked up the shirt he had discarded on the bed to hang it at its place. “Have you had tea?”

“No.”

“Would you have it downstairs? Or shall I bring it here?”

“I will have it here. Bring yours too.”

Karishma sighed inwardly. It was a sign that he wanted to have one of his ‘talks’ with her. It was a routine whenever he got any reports of her transgressions.

He was combing his hair, when she brought the tea. She started sipping hers without waiting for him.

“What happened today? Mummy told me you were unwell. Still you went out?”

She wanted to reply coolly. But she felt a surge of anger swell within her. She burst forth sharply. “Damn right, I was unwell. Any sane person with a heart will be. There has been a murder in this family this morning.”

“Abortion till this time is quite common. You are unnecessarily being queasy. And please mind your language.”

His calmness while replying angered her even more.

“You know, as well as I do, that it wasn’t a willing abortion. It was the killing of a girl child.”

“When Virat and Malti don’t have a problem, why are you creating uproar?”

“What if it was our daughter?”

“It wasn’t.”

“So, would you speak up and stop it if it happens to our daughter?”

“We will cross the bridge when it comes. Now, you better behave yourself. You have been an absolute nuisance today. This is not acceptable. And don’t go around blabbering about it to your friends.”

“He wouldn’t do a thing, Mou,” she later told her friend on phone, “Bizarre as my situation is, I can only be thankful that I was warned in advance. I can’t have them know anything of my pregnancy until I know the sex of the child. To think that all this while I had wanted a girl so much!”

“You are not an illiterate, poor woman, Karishma. Whatever happens, they can’t touch your baby if you don’t want it.”

“Still, they can’t know Mou. Not until I know what I am going to do. Mou, will you please talk to the doctor and find out what symptoms I can expect in next four weeks. I must hide those from them. I can’t come out too often to meet the doctor.”

“I will do that. Karishma I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Couldn’t you make up some story and stay with me for some time?”

She chuckled bitterly, “You still don’t realize that we married women are prisoners in this family, do you? If I have to be free, I have to run away. Bye Mou. Don’t call me. I will call you when I am alone. Do talk to the doctor.”

—

Karishma paced frantically in Mou’s room. They had just come back from the doctor after sex determination.

“You want to save your baby, right? I don’t see how you can do that if you are so stressed out all the time. Why do you give a damn about those people, Karishma? Get out of that house, that marriage, raise your baby; move on!”

“It’s not that simple. I can buy as much jewelry as I like, but I don’t have any money of my own. I can’t spend a single penny without explaining. I can’t start a job now. After the birth – yes. I need to think of something until then…”

“Go to your parent’s house.”

“I have thought about that, Mou. But that isn’t my parent’s house any longer.” Karishma’s eyes got moist.

“What do you mean?”

“Anu – my sister-in-law is not particularly fond of hosting us sisters… And if I go there with the burden of pregnancy…”

“What about the rest of the family? Your mother, aunts, uncles…”

“If you had seen what I saw the last time I visited them, you won’t recognize it as the same family, Mou. Anu is so disposed to making a mountain out of every molehill that everyone has just given up. She runs the house the way she pleases. It had never been like this before… It will be so much better if they just moved out… But the question of prestige comes in… They will rather tolerate her than let them live separately… They have their own share of problems, Mou. They can’t help me.”

“Stay with me, Karishma.”

“I will need your help at every step. And if I can indeed think of nothing else… But it’s just… And I don’t know if I can really do what I want if I stay in Kolkata… God! He was right Mou. I was too young then to take a decision that I will have to stick to for my life. I shouldn’t have agreed to marry in a family that made people keep such barbaric promises…”

“Who had said? What?”

“Prof. Sen…”

Mou looked at her sympathetically. Just to change the topic for a while, she asked. “Where is he? Still in Mumbai?”

“No. He had left the same year we graduated. He would be Dharmshala now. There was some newly created university. At least that was his plan. And if he hasn’t moved on since. We haven’t kept in touch.”

“Hmm…”

Karishma sat back in an armchair and closed her eyes. Mou let her be while she tried to rack her own brains for a solution.

Karishma stood up briskly after about fifteen minutes. “Mou. Would you search online to see if there is a university in Dharmshaala? See what you can find. Check the list of their faculty members.”

“You are looking for SS?”

“I’m going crazy, you can say, but please bring your laptop.”

In about five minutes they had the confirmation that Siddhartha Sen was at a university in Dharmshala.

“You want to call him up?” Mou asked uncertainly, “You think he will help you?”

“I won’t call him up. I will go with blind faith.”

“And do what? And how will you go? Will you run away?”

“No. Who will pay for my living there? And the baby? They must pay it. Why shouldn’t they? It is because of them that I am not working. ‘Women in this family do not need to work.’ I have to find a way of getting away from them without revealing anything and without being accompanied by any of them. And I have to do it quickly. I will start showing soon. Oh Lord! How? How?”

—

To be continued

“What happened?” Karishma was surprised to find everyone in the kitchen looking morose. Her husband’s family was also like the one at her home. Large, joint family. Almost all the women were in the kitchen. “It’s a girl,” replied her husband’s youngest aunt.

“What… what is a girl?” she didn’t understand.

The aunt looked at the family’s long time servant – Geeta. A surly woman who only spoke to Karishma with some kindness – possibly because her kindness rubbed off her.

“Come with me, Bahu Rani,” she told Karishma and beckoned her to follow her. Karishma, though puzzled, obeyed her wordlessly.

Vikram was the eldest child of his generation. His cousin Virat, who was next to him, had also been married soon after Karishma and Vikram. His wife, Malti, was expecting. She was about twelve weeks pregnant now and they had gotten a sex-determination done. The baby was a girl and it was going to be aborted.

“What?” Karishma was horrified, “Who wants to abort the baby? How can…”

“That’s the tradition of this family.”

“Tradition?”

“How do you think you do not have any sister-in-laws?”

“It’s illegal… They can go behind bars.”

“Who will send them behind bars? You? Me?”

Karishma felt nauseated and ran toward the bathroom. Nobody came to help her. She went upstairs to her room and lied down on the bed. She was too shocked to react to the news. It was Geeta who finally came to her.

“Won’t you eat something?”

“What happened to Malti’s baby?”

Geeta stayed silent.

“Geeta Chachi… How can they…”

“They don’t do it. They send me everywhere,” Geeta replied bitterly.

“You should refuse to go.”

“What will happen if I refuse to go, child? There are enough hungry mouths on this earth. I will lose my job and somebody else will do it anyway. But come now… That’s how the world is… You will get used to it…”

“The world is not like this,” Karishma cried, “Else how do they get women to marry their sons to. If everyone started killing their daughters… Why, oh Lord, why do they need to do it? If a poor family is worried about dowry and they do it… repulsive as it is, I would understand it for a minute. But what do they lack in this house, Chachi? Why…”

She sighed. “The daughters of this family brought too much trouble, too many scandals… Because of that Vikram’s grandfather decided… And since then it has indeed been peaceful.”

“No scandals, eh?” Karishma said with disgust, “Right. Because what men do is not a scandal. When women exercise their right to choose…” She recalled her initial attempts at romancing her husband. She had reached his office unannounced one afternoon with food she had cooked herself. The woman she had found in his office, he had introduced as his secretary. Karishma knew that wasn’t the case. She had met his secretary earlier. He had eaten in silence. Karishma had planned to have lunch with him, but she didn’t eat and he didn’t invite her. At the end he had said, “What men do outside home should be none of women’s concern. That is how it is. I don’t disturb your life at home. Do not disturb me at office again.”

“Eat something, child,” Geeta’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“I’m fine. I can fast for that unfortunate baby for a day, if I can fast for these demons ten times every year.”

“God is keeping a tally, Bahu Rani. It will punish them one day.”

“Would you not do anything, Geeta Chachi?”

“If I could, I’d do anything. But I have a family to feed too. And I can’t lose this job.”

—

After her sojourn at his office, Vikram had duly complained to his mother. After that Karishma could not step out of home without giving full explanation of where she was going. If she was meeting any of her friends, they were supposed to pick her up. Thankfully, Mou was in the same city and everyone knew that she was her childhood friend.  She called her up. “Mou. I don’t care how busy you are today, you have to pick me up and help me.”

“What happened?”

“Can’t talk on phone. When can you pick me up?”

“Right away?”

“Please do.”

Mou was working as a journalist in the city. She had, luckily, an off day and she came down immediately. Karishma briefly explained her family’s ‘tradition’ to Mou in the car.

“What the fuck… Karishma. There has to be some mistake.”

“There is none. One baby has been killed in that house this bloody morning.”

“Karishma. Are you pregnant?”

“I might be, Mou,” Karishma said and slumped back in the chair. She had missed her periods for long enough.

“And?”

“I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. I can’t tell my family yet. I have to find out first.”

“But what will you do if it’s a girl? They will have to be sent behind bars. I can help you with that… When they send you for testing…”

“Mou! I am right now on the path of becoming a statistics of sociology. The one that said that rich people are even more likely to practice female foeticide… I don’t care about social good right now, Mou. I first have to find out if I am pregnant and if so whether I am carrying a boy or a girl… And then I will see.”

Mou’s profession as a journalist came as a great help to Karishma. She had acquaintances in almost all professions. She took her to a gynecologist.

“You are pregnant, Karishma,” she confirmed.

“When can you determine the sex of the baby?” Mou asked.

The doctor looked uncertain. “This isn’t some kind of sting operation Mou, is it?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Jiya. If I have to do a sting operation I will do it on her bloody family. So many people use it to kill babies. Please help us save one.”

“In another four weeks. But she should be on medicines and supplements already.”

“Write the prescription.”

—

To be continued

“Vikram is a fine boy, my child,” her father said, “You also know him.” She did know him although they weren’t close friends. And yes – as far as she knew, he was a fine boy.  She was also aware that despite all these years, the tides of the scandals had not abated. People still murmured about it, and marital relationships for the family would have been difficult. “The reason I am telling you all this today, my child, is that if you do not want this marriage, I will make sure before I die that nobody persuades you. But if you are fine with it… I will die peacefully. You would have kept the promise of your father and grandfather. And you won’t be unhappy. Once you go there, other good families would also marry their their daughters in the family. You will have good company and, of course, no lack of money or comfort. But I don’t want you to be under pressure… We’ll find some way out.”

Karishma was well aware of her boundaries. She had never expected to be allowed “love-marriage” or a marriage outside the community. What she had hoped was that she would be allowed to choose form those the family considered eligible. That was something everyone allowed these days. Now, for the sake of an ancient promise, even that little freedom was to be taken away from her. It was particularly painful now, after that intimate – not physically, but emotionally – night with Siddhartha. But she tried to think rationally. That would be an impossible dream. One, she wasn’t aware of what he felt. Second, choosing him would still mean rebelling against her family and causing a lot of misery to them. She wasn’t going to do that. Then what harm was there is letting her father die peacefully and agree to marry Vikram Jain? He would be as good as any other match the family would make for her.

“Papa,” she smiled, “Don’t worry on my account, Papa. If you think this is right for me, that’s what I will do. I will marry him.”

—

“Ms. Bhattacharya,” Siddhartha called Mou after the class, “Can you come to my office for a minute?”

She followed him knowing full well what he wanted to know about.

“Her father passed away. The day before,” she said even before he asked anything.

“Oh!”

“She was really close to him, Prof. Sen. Closer than anyone else in the world. She would be devastated.”

He nodded, “Thanks for updating me. When will she be back?”

“Not before another two weeks. Her project…”

“That’s fine.”

—

He saw her in the class first when she came back. Where had the luster and glow of her face gone? In barely two weeks, how could someone lose so much of weight and develop those dark circles. Mou was right. Her father’s death has hit her really hard. She was doodling on her notebook through most of the class, looking neither at him, nor at the blackboard, nor at any of her friends. Their eyes met just once.  Siddhartha felt that the tears that had dried out in her eyes would start flowing from his. There was so much pain in them.

She came to his office after the class, although he hadn’t asked her to. The silent invitation was understood.

“How are you?” he asked feigning calm.

She smiled weakly in reply.

“Come here,” he beckoned her to him and embraced her. She could not control herself and broke into sobs.

“It’s all right. Calm down. There is nothing to worry…” he soothed her with his encouraging words.

“I have another class now,” she said after she had calmed down.

“Come in the evening. We will go out of the campus and we will talk. All right?”

She nodded and left.

—

He listened to her for hours. She recounted every little incident from her involving her father. How he took her to eat ice cream out of turn. How he would make sure that her favorite dress was bought for her. How he helped her in studies. She broke into tears several times and he patiently comforted her.

“Don’t worry, Karishma. Don’t feel that you are alone. You have friends. I am there.”

A look of guilt washed over her face as soon as he uttered those words. She had been deceptive. There was something she should have told him first. Yes – it was necessary to tell that to him. Because what she had felt that night, what she had been feeling, but not acknowledging, from even before that, it was mutual. If it weren’t, what were they doing there? Why was he being her confidante in the moment of her emotional weakness?

He noticed her expression. “What happened?”

“There is something else…”

“Go ahead.”

She told him about the promise she made to her father on his deathbed and the story behind it. He was stunned by the time she finished speaking. What kind of a promise it was? It was as good as selling their daughter. With a “conditions apply” tag. But… And yet – she had made her decision. How should he react? It didn’t matter how he felt about it What mattered was what would make her feel comfortable. What did she value more? Her “feminist” choices as she called them? Or the emotional promise made to her father in his last moments?

She spoke before he could decide on his reaction. “You think I am a hypocrite, don’t you? Talking about feminism and rights and making such a decision…”

“Karishma. I am too old, and have seen too much of life, to expect it to be ideal.  The only question I would ask is if you are okay with your decision. Did you want to marry someone else? Or by your own choice…”

“It shouldn’t matter if I wanted to marry someone. Because there is no indication that he wants the same.”

“How would you know?”

“I would know if he would tell me.”

“Will that change you decision?”

She shook her head while her eyes moistened.

“Then what is the point, Karishma? Let everyone be at peace.”

“I would like to know… If I had a chance… At loving… At being loved?”

“You had, you still have, the chance of getting the world at your feet, if you reached out. What do you really want to do, Karishma?”

“There is nothing for me to decide now, Prof. Sen. I have made my choice. I will marry like Anna. Not for love. But for comfort; and for the sake of society.”

“But if your future is going to be like Anna’s, it’s better that you back out now.”

“No. My future will not be like hers. I have more control over my feelings and passions.”

“So be it, Karishma. And unlike Anna, your qualities are not just superficial, but in your heart. I can’t imagine a man who wouldn’t come to appreciate them. You will find happiness.”

She smiled trying to feel hopeful.

“Is the wedding date decided?” he asked.

“Won’t be until next year. After Papa’s death, they will wait for at least one year.”

“You would have finished your degree by then.”

She nodded. Then said resolutely. “And for Papa’s sake, I have to do well, Prof. Sen. I have missed so much in this semester. I have to make up…”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled at her, “I have just learned from someone how her father helped her catch up with studies when she had fallen ill with jaundice. I think I can use a lesson or two from there.”

She gave a disarmed smile. She had just told him that story. He would help her do well.

—

To be continued

Siddhartha woke up as soon as the dawn broke. He woke Karishma up too and together they tried to find their way back. Midway, they met the policemen who had come in search of them. They were taken back to the hotel and finally everyone was at ease. After breakfast, they started back for Mumbai.

Karishma and Siddhartha were seated in different buses, both of them hardly aware of people around them.

“It won’t work, Siddhartha,” he recalled Sonali saying, “I can adjust. But you would be miserable. You want children so much. And if you are miserable, it won’t work out. Not at all.”

His problem had been discovered unintentionally, while treating an innocuous, temporary urinary tract infection. He had thought it right to tell Sonali right away. He hadn’t tried to influence her decision in any way; he hadn’t tried suggesting options about which he knew more than Karishma did. Thinking about Karishma brought a faint smile to his lips. But he shouldn’t think about her. She was being kind, but that didn’t mean anything more. It couldn’t. She was too young to know her mind. She had far too idealistic notions of the world. But yes – he couldn’t help comparing her kind, understanding reaction with Sonali’s. As if the pain of his inadequacy was not enough, Sonali had tried to impress that the relationship must be broken for his sake, and not hers. He was the culprit whichever way one wanted to look at it. But it was her decision to make. He had gracefully retreated. Not bothering even to point out to the cruelty and irrationality of her logic.

But did that bring him peace of mind? Wouldn’t it have been better to be impotent? To not have the desires in the first place, when there was no legitimate way of fulfilling them? Desires that he had gone around fulfilling in the ways he was averse to. He had never visited a prostitute during his student days. A sort of coming of age ritual many of his friends followed. But now – faced with the prospect of life-long loneliness he had given in.

He could never be at peace. And what he had seen in Karishma’s countenance yesterday could destroy her peace too. He would have to talk to her. He made a mistake in getting so intimate with her. He would have to rectify that.

—

“Still traumatized, aren’t you?” Mou asked gently.

Karishma smiled back, “Not really. If he hadn’t reached there, it would have been a different matter. I would have died of fear and anxiety.”

“Don’t talk like that. Who is calling now?” she took out her ringing phone. “It’s from your home Karishma. Why would they call me?”

“Probably my phone is not reachable. But I don’t want to talk to anyone, Mou. Tell them I am in a different bus and I will call once we are back in campus.”

Karishma started looking out of the window and didn’t see Mou’s changing expressions as she talked on phone. She didn’t even pay attention to her friend was talking about. Mou’s face was pale by the time she disconnected the call. “Karishma,” she touched her shoulder. Karishma grew surprised as her friend held her tight. “Listen carefully. And don’t be weak.”

“What is it, Mou?”

“Uncle… You father had a heart attack…”

“Another one?” Karishma’s eyes grew wide is shock.

“Yes. You need to go home urgently.”

“Mou… Is he…” She was shaking awfully.

“He is alive. Right now. But you need to go. We’ll pass by the airport on our way back. I am going to talk to Mrs. D’Souza. The bus will drop us at the airport and we’ll buy you a ticket. Okay?”

Karishma nodded absent-mindedly. All color had drained out of her face. It was deadly white. She followed Mou listlessly as they got down at the airport, Mou found out about the next available flight and booked a ticket for her. She hugged her before leaving. “Take care, Karishma.”

“Mou!” she finally came to herself, “Will you inform Prof. Sen?”

Mou nodded.

“What will you inform?” she muttered, “Tell him that I won’t come for the weekly meeting and I will miss the presentation too.”

“Don’t worry. I will tell him.”

“Pray for my father, Mou,” she was close to tears now.

“Oh Karishma. Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”

She gave her another tight hug and Karishma walked towards the check-in counter.

—

Karishma had been her Daddy’s girl. In that huge household, with so many children growing up together, it was hardly possible for any grown up to lavish any special care on any of the kids. Someone or the other was always in the need to instant attention owing to some accident or illness. Nobody was ignored, of course. There was just too much communal care to allow any personal bond. But she still had that with her father. He seemed to understand what she wanted. Her going away from home for studies was an extra-ordinary decision in her conservative business family. But he had made it possible, although she hadn’t openly asked to be allowed. He had seen her applying to this prestigious college and had promised her that if she got the admission, the rest would be his responsibility.

This was the third heart attack he had had in last few years.  She wanted to hope despite herself. But her mind would just not shut up with its doomed predictions. Moroseness prevalent at her home was hardly unexpected when she arrived. Everyone rushed her to his room.

“He has been asking for you since morning,” she was told.

“Karishma. My child. Is that really you? Or am I hallucinating?” How weak he sounded. Her heart sank, but she controlled her tears.

“It’s me, Papa. I have just come.”

“You’d be tired.”

“Not at all, Papa.  It was a short flight. But you must not talk, Papa. You are weak.”

“Time to cling to life is over darling. You must listen to me carefully.”

She was incredulous about what she heard. She was the eldest child in her generation. When she was little, the family business had gotten into serious financial trouble and they were on the verge of bankruptcy. At that time, an acquaintance of theirs, a Jain family, had come to their rescue. “That was not the time of these fancy credit instrument and insurances,” her father explained, “Only someone shelling out hard cash could have saved us.”

That family had its own problem. There had been some scandals about the girls for that family for last two generations. They were, therefore, derided by the community and no respectable family wanted to have any marital ties with them. They wanted a promise from Karishma’s family that when she grows up, she will be married into their family. It hadn’t, at first, been acceptable to Karishma’s father. But finally it had been decided between them that the agreement will be kept only if the boy turned out to be suitable. That was, he should turn out to be well-educated, well-settled either in family business or outside, and had no bad habits.

—

To be continued

“Karishma…” It was almost nightfall. The word was unfamiliar in that voice, because he always called her Ms. Gupta otherwise. But she could have recognized that voice from amongst thousands.

“Prof. Sen,” she shouted back, but heard him calling her again. From behind the rocks, her voice was not reaching him. She dragged herself out in the open braving the rain and shouted again. “Sir, I am here.” He heard her this time and ran towards the voice. “Call again, Karishma,” he shouted after a while. She shouted back. In two or three such attempts he had reached her.

“Thank God. You are safe,” he hugged her to her surprise. “How could you wander away so far? Leaving your phone behind? Without informing everyone? Do you know how worried I was? All of us? Come inside. It’s raining crazy.” He tried to drag her back, but she cried out loud.

“What happened?” he was alarmed.

“I have sprained my ankle.”

“Oh God!” Without showing the least bit of embarrassment, he picked her up in his arms and took her inside. She wasn’t thin. He was strong! The rocks were now shielding them from rain. He settled her on a flat stone, took out a cigarette lighter, and kneeled to examine her ankles.

“It’s nothing,” he said, “It can be fixed. But it will hurt for a moment? Can you bear that?”

She nodded, but howled worse than a woman in labor, when he did jerk her ankle. It was fine after that though, as he had promised.

Temperature had dropped considerably because of rain and she was shivering. He had only a thin cotton jacket over his shirt and that too partially wet. But he took it off and offered it to her.

“It’s okay,” she hesitated, “You’d be cold too.”

“I’m the chaperon here,” he said and forced her to accept the jacket.

“Can we go back?” she asked.

“It’s dark already. Even I would not be able to find our way back. The police would have been informed. It is better if we wait for someone to find us”

She nodded.

“Would you be fine?” he asked looking concerned.

She nodded and spoke after a pause. “Sorry. For all the trouble. And thanks for finding me. As if getting lost was not bad enough, I also sprained my ankle.”

“I suppose I would want my children to be chaperoned, if they are accident-prone as you are.”

“I’m not accident-prone. It can happen to anyone on hills.”

“No? And what is that?” he pointed to a scar on her forehead, “You got that last Sunday in the football ground, didn’t you?”

“How do you know?” she was surprised.

“I was there.”

She knew he was there. He played tennis on Sunday mornings. The court was adjacent to football ground. And it was to watch him that she went there every Sunday. What she was surprised about was that he had noticed.

“Well. Not my fault really. The ball came my way. They should have been careful while playing.”

He laughed pleasantly, “Indeed. They should have been careful? And not you? Karishma! People come to the grounds to play. Not to watch opera. What were you thinking, sitting there, lost in some other world?”

She pouted outwardly, while dying with embarrassment on the inside. Did he know why she was there?

“You like children excessively, don’t you?” she said to change the topic, although regretted even that. Why couldn’t she hold her tongue before him? It would again go back to marriage and what not.

He stared at her for a long moment before answering, “Yes. I like them very much.” He knew what had prompted the question. She had seen him with the school-children. He did not ask the reason even for pretension.

“Then you should have your own?” she was uncomfortable with the silence and was unable to think of anything else to talk about. Jane Eyre. May be she should discuss Jane Eyre with him. But heck! She couldn’t remember even the opening line of that novel.

He took a long pause again before speaking making her restless, “I can’t have them.”

“If you won’t marry, you can, of course, not have them.”

“No. I can’t have them even if I marry ten times, Karishma. It’s me. I have a problem.”

She was tongue-tied for a while. “I… I am sorry… I… Obviously I didn’t know… I should… Is it… just…” She stopped. She couldn’t give words to the question that came to her mind. Was it impotence? Or just the infertility? But he understood it. Since he had already spoken so much, he went ahead and clarified that too. “It’s not impotence. But quality of semen…”

She let out her breath that she had been holding for a while.

He was facing away from her. She walked to him after a while. “That is hardly the end of life, Prof. Sen. There are so many options in today’s world. You can adopt. There is IVF. There could be other treatments.”

“Thanks to your feminism, Karishma, men don’t have to fight duels in defense of their manliness. But there are certain manly things whose absence even the modern society does not accept.”

“And it is one of those things, about which the society is more cruel to men than to women,” she added thoughtfully. A woman unable to conceive would be an object of pity. But not in the same way as a man not being considered man enough.

A silence prevailed, which she broke enthusiastically. “I agree that a large part of society can be quite stupid. But that doesn’t mean everyone is. I’m sure there are women who know better.”

He turned to her with a sad smile. “Give up, Karishma. The woman I loved didn’t know better. I don’t want to dream any longer. Looks like nobody is going to find us now. We’ll have to spend the night here. Sorry.”

“At least, I am not alone,” she assured him with a smile and went back to her seat. He also found a corner for himself and sat down.

She started discussing Jane Eyre with him now and after a while they both felt sleepy.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said.

“Yeah,” she acceded.

But once she laid herself down on the rocks, despite the exhaustion, she could not sleep. She kept her eyes closed for a while. But deliberately keeping them closed was irritating. She opened them after a while. The lighter was still on. She looked at him in its dim light. Then she could not stop herself. She got up, went to him, bent down and planted a quick kiss on his forehead. She stayed still for a moment to ensure that he had not woken up. They came back to her place and lied down. After a while, she drifted off to sleep, despite the dampness and cold. She didn’t see him opening his eyes after she had lied down, and looking at her tearfully.

—

To be continued

They climbed up the hill and found a shade to rest under. The lunch could wait. People formed different groups, some gossiping, some playing games. One large group was formed immediately for playing cricket. They found an area that was flat and large enough. Mou sat down with a group for playing cards. Cards didn’t interest Karishma. She picked up a book and wandered off.

“Still working on the project?” her secluded spot was discovered by him.

“Prof. Sen,” she smiled at him and got up. “Not working. It is fun to read in the natural surroundings. But yes – since I am reading the book, I’d as well use it in the project.”

“I won’t disturb you, then,” he said and made to go away.

“No. Please. Stay,” she said and felt awkward at her eagerness.

He pretended not to notice any awkwardness and sat down. She did likewise.

“So, where are you from?” he started the conversation, “You stay in the hostel, right?”

“Yeah. My family is in Kolkata.”

“Who all?”

“Oh. Lots of people,” she chuckled, “My parents. My younger brother and sister. I have one each. My grandparents, two of my uncles and their families.”

“That’s grand. Must be fun.”

“It’s a zoo, jungle, I don’t know what! But yes – it’s fun. How about you?”

“I have no family left. I had lost my family to an accident in childhood. I was saved somehow and was brought up by an elderly maternal uncle. He was quit old and died soon after I started working.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It has always been like that for me. I don’t remember life being any other way.”

“But that solves the mystery,” she said playfully.

“What mystery?”

“Why you are not married. There is no one to coax you.”

He laughed at that, but Karishma was able to discern a pain in it. His laughter was not of amusement, but an attempt at hiding something. The mystery was not solved, then.

“I like that explanation,” he said.

“You should get married though,” she persisted despite being unsure about the appropriateness of the topic.

“Why?”

“For one, you’d make a cool Dad. Not wanting chaperoning for your kids.”

“I hope you are not planning on opening a marriage bureau. You’d do a very bad job of convincing people to get married.”

She grinned. But before she could reply, she heard Mou calling her name.

“Karishma. Lunch time. Where are you?”

“Here. Coming.”

Mou followed the voice and came there. She looked embarrassed to find Siddhartha there. “Sir! Good morning, Sir,” she greeted him awkwardly. He nodded in acknowledgement and got up.

“Shall we go for lunch?” he looked at Karishma. She nodded and they walked off.

—

Mou accosted her after lunch.

“What was going on?”

“What?”

“Hum-tum ek kamre mein band ho…” Mou sang meaningfully and whistled.

“Mou!”

“Fine. At least tell me what you talked about.”

“It’s sad, Mou. He is all alone in the world. No family.”

“Hmm… The way you are going, it won’t be the case for long.”

“Excuse me?”

“You seem all set to make him a family.”

“Mou!”

“No. I am not shutting up this time. What are you doing? A fool can see that you are falling in love.”

“Mou. That’s a forbidden territory for me. My family would be… you know very well.”

“I know very well. It is you who seems to have forgotten.”

“I’m in no danger, Mou. Even if I fall for him, I am sure he would not think of it as any more than a school-girlish crush for a teacher. Besides, it isn’t happening. I am not going to let it happened.”

As she wandered around again, she noticed that a group of school children had also come up the hill. Probably it was a picnic day for them too. Their carefree manners and games brought a smile to her face. And then she noticed the one whose company she was trying to avoid after lunch. Siddhartha Sen had joined the group of children and was playing with them. He was laughing and enjoying their tiresome games. She gazed for a minute; then deliberately turned away. She started walking around the hills alone.

—

“This is going to be a storm. Pack up everyone. Quick. Come on. Get in the buses,” Mrs. D’Souza and student volunteers got busy is trying to get everyone in the buses.

“We have to make sure nobody is left behind. Let’s do a count in every bus before leaving,” Siddhartha suggested and everyone agreed. He was unable to locate Karishma anywhere. Where was she? And of course, there could be others missing.

“Four people are missing.”

“Who all?”

“George is not there.”

“Sahil.”

“Karishma is not there, Ma’am,” Siddhartha heard Mou’s voice, “And her cellphone is left behind in her bag.”

“Vikrant is also not there.”

“Can’t reach any of their phones.”

“George, Sahil and Vikrant had gone to fetch the cricket stuff,” someone recalled.

“I will go and check for them,” a student volunteered, “Give me extra umbrellas.”

“Who has last seen Karishma?”

Nobody could recall seeing her after lunch. Siddhartha hoped that someone else would volunteer the information. But when nobody did, he had to speak. “I had seen someone walk northwards. It must have been her.”

The other three students and the one who had gone to look for them were back by then. Some other students volunteered to look for Karishma accompanied by Siddhartha. They looked around quite far and shouted her name. But had no success.

“I think she has wandered too far, Mrs. D’Sourza,” Siddhartha consulted the other faculty guide, a young lecturer in Philosophy department “There is no point keeping all of them here and making them anxious. I will look for her. You take them back on the buses. Send a car form the hotel and…”

“But how can you do it alone, Prof. Sen?”

“Don’t worry. I am trekker. But if we aren’t back by midnight, inform the police.”

“She is trekker too,” Mou said, her teeth chattering, from cold as well as anxiety for her friend.

“Then she would be all right,” he assured Mou in a gentle voice, “Just stuck somewhere because of the storm.”

“Can I stay with you?”

“No. That won’t help. By myself, I can search a much wider area. You go back to the hotel and don’t worry. I will find her.”

The confidence in his voice assured Mou, though he himself was sick with worry. What had possessed her to wander away like that?

—

To be continued

“I am glad that you are using this opportunity, Ms. Gupta” Mou giggled, “Let me try to mimic how he does it.” She tried, but Karishma was not impressed.

“No. No. You don’t say it like him.”

“Aww… How can I? I don’t get to see or hear him up close, do I? Why don’t you try it.”

“Okay here,” she bowed her head a little and then looked up, “I am glad that…” Suddenly she stopped and blushed furiously.

Mou raised her eyebrows.

“Forget it,” Karishma said, “I am no good at mimicking.”

—

They hadn’t begun their weekly project discussion yet, when someone came to see Siddhartha.

“Yes?”

“There is a note from director’s office, Sir.”

“Thanks you.”

Siddhartha opened the envelope. “Our director sometimes refuses to recognize that there are things like e-mails available now,” he sounded amused, not irritated. “Ah! Good job, Ms. Gupta.”

“Sir?”

“Director is happy with the results of projects as an alternative to continuous evaluation. Very few people have opted for it. But they are all doing good work. So, he has appreciated me for the idea. And your project has been mentioned specifically.”

“It was your idea?”

“So was continuous evaluation. So all bouquets and brickbats can be thrown my way.”

She smiled. He wasn’t bad-tempered at all. In fact, he was great at conversations. She wondered about his general moroseness. Why?

“So, what were we to discuss?”

“The novel doesn’t explain the source of Heathcliff’s wealth at all,” she complained. She was going to present Wuthering Heights that week.

“So, your job is to think of the possibilities.”

“Like?”

“The economic structure of the England at that time had started being fluid due to flourishing trade. Mrs. Dean mentions that he looked like he had served as a soldier. He might have joined something like East India Company. That could be one source. Besides given how devoid of any scruples he was, he might even have cheated someone out of money. Probably a woman of some small fortune whom he would have seduced.”

“Hmm… I’d put that in my presentation. By the way, I understand that the characters here are narcissists, selfish… and the entire tone of the novel in dark. It’s about ruthless vengeance. But still, there is one thing I find difficult to digest.”

“What?”

“That Heathcliff should like to torture Catherine’s daughter as a part of his revenge. I can’t imagine a man doing that to the daughter of a woman he loved. ”

Siddhartha looked amused. “Even at its darkest, you do see some romance in love.”

“Don’t you? I mean… if I were to write a novel like that I’d make him a really ruthless man to the rest of the world. But he would kill everyone else, and probably even get her married to his son, only to have her – his lover’s daughter – close to him so that he can give her the fatherly love. And that would redeem him.”

“That would be a fantastic read, I am sure. And more palatable. I agree with your sentiments. I can’t imagine anyone I know who would have tortured the daughter for revenge.”

She grinned as he finally accepted her idea.

“I hope you are getting time to study for your other subjects with this project. There are no weekly tests, but you will have to take exams.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she replied. The new semester was in its fifth week, and with five meetings and other occasional interactions, they had become quite casual with each other. But what vexed her was that he still continued to call her Ms. Gupta.

“Are you coming for the picnic? It’d be fun,” she asked as she gathered her notes to leave.

“I have to. I have the shepherding duty,” he smiled.

She had seen him smile many times now. But it still made her heart skip a beat.

“Shepherding? What on earth does that mean?” she asked ill-concealing her blush.

“Ah! Well. I am the faculty guide ala your jailer ala your shepherd along with Mrs. D’Souza. It is only in India that we would consider it necessary for post-graduate students to be in need of chaperons. You are old enough to choose our government, some of you old enough to govern.”

She laughed, “What can be done? Parents want it.”

“Parents have to be the most senseless creatures in the world.”

“So, you wouldn’t want your kids to be chaperoned?”

His good humor disappeared and his face hardened all of a sudden. Karishma looked at him anxiously. Had she said something inappropriate?

To her relief he smiled. It was evident that it was a forced smile. But it meant that whatever offended him, he wasn’t going to take it out on her. “I suppose not. That would be hypocritical, won’t it? When as a teacher I don’t want the chaperoning duty?”

She smiled as sweetly as she could manage, hoping to placate him with that and came away.

—

“What is his story, Mou?”

“Whose?”

“Professor Sen’s. Why is he not married?”

“Professor Sen. Aha! No more Mr. Perfectionist, eh?” That as a nickname Karishma had given him when on the first day of the class, he had stopped her form attending it, because she was late by few minutes. Her pleas had fallen on deaf ears. She didn’t like missing classes. She had stubbornly sat outside and taken notes. “Mr. Perfectionist cannot stop me from being anywhere else in the world, can he? The classroom might be his fort for that one hour,” she had grumbled.

“Shut up, Mou. He isn’t as bad as he looks from afar. He can actually crack jokes.”

“All right. And that makes you interested in his single status. What’s going on Ms. Gupta?”

“If you don’t want to talk, don’t. Stop teasing me pointlessly.”

“Arr… Okay, okay. Don’t be mad. Thing is, nobody really knows his story. Some people think that because of his bad temper, no girl can withstand him.”

“But his temper is not bad at all.”

“Some even think that he is gay.”

“He is not gay.”

“And how can you be so sure about that?”

“I know.”

“You do?” Mou’s eyes twinkled with mischief again and Karishma pretended to hit her.

Mou guffawed and dropped the topic. “Shall we pack for the picnic? There is an overnight stay. So, we need to carry essentials.”

“Let’s use a single suitcase. If we carry jeans, there won’t be much to pack.”

“Okay.”

—

Siddhartha slumped on the bed after packing his overnighter for the picnic. “So, you wouldn’t want your kids to be chaperoned?” her voice rang in his ears. How was he to know whether or not he would like them chaperoned, when he wasn’t going to have them? And he had desired children so much.

“We will have two of our own and we will adopt two,” he had told Sonali once.

She had rolled her eyes at him. “Why not open an orphanage, then?”

“No. Not orphanage. A home with as many children as possible. I don’t think I will be able to provide for more than four though.”

And she had laughed – her loud, merry laughter that used to mesmerize him. It produced those dimples on her cheeks…

He jerked himself out of the memories. They could bring no peace, no happiness.

—

To be continued

“Hello Ms. Gupta,” Mou grinned at her when they met next.

Karishma gave an exaggerated sigh and pressed her chest dramatically. Mou broke into a giggle. “What happened in the great Professor Sen’s office?”

“He is drop-dead gorgeous, Mou!”

“Ah! So, it took some personal attention from him for you to admit that?”

“Whatever that means. He said something about my assignment. And I blabbered something stupid about continuous evaluation. I bet he was laughing after I left, if those facial muscles are capable of flexing for a laugh.”

“You want to impress him, eh?”

“That would be fun, won’t it?” Karishma grinned.

“Good luck!”

—

Karishma lingered outside his office. This was the third time in the day she was doing it. The last two times she had lost courage and gone back. The same would have happened this time too, except that the door suddenly opened.  She was standing right in front of it at that moment. She startled and jumped back.

“Yes?” Siddhartha asked briskly.

“Prof. Sen… Sir!! Good morning… I mean good evening, Sir.”

He frowned and looked at her quizzically. “You wanted to meet me?” he asked.

“No… Yes Sir. But you were going somewhere. I can come later.”

“Only to the restroom. Why don’t you wait in the office for five minutes?”

“Yes Sir.”

She took a deep breath once inside the office and tried to collect her thoughts. She had spent so many hours trying to gather the courage to knock that she had forgotten the alibi she had in mind for coming there. What was it? Ah, right! The assignment. Anna Karenina as a feminist character.

“Yes. Tell me, Ms. Gupta. What did you want?” he came and sat on his chair.

She had gathered her wits together and spoke with reasonable calmness. “You had made a remark about my assignment. Anna Karenina one. That there was a lot to debate. I was wondering about that. We could probably have that debate… sometime?”

“Sure. Now?”

“Yeah. Why not?” she would be missing her philosophy class, she realized. But she might not have the courage to come back if she left now.

“What is more interesting than you not considering Anna a feminist character is that you consider Karenin one.”

“Yes. I have given reasons for thinking that way.”

“But if Anna, at best, is an accidental feminist, isn’t Karenin one too? When he doesn’t fight a duel or is permissive towards his wife, he is not thinking about her, but himself.”

“Feminism is not only about women’s welfare. It breaks the patriarchal stereotype not just for women, but men too. A man is allowed to be what would derogatorily be called being sissy or being a cuckold. He doesn’t have to be manly the way patriarchy asks him to be. And it is fine. Doesn’t make him a lesser person. Anna doesn’t assert and claim her feminist rights even when given a chance by her husband. He does. Although he doesn’t have the feminist vocabulary to justify his decisions. So, he uses politics, importance of his work and religion for it.”

Siddhartha found it pleasant to listen to her fervent speech. He was no longer as interested in having a debate as in listening to her talk.

“So, you are unforgiving to Anna,” he said suppressing a smile.

“I pity her. I don’t blame her for being what she was, for wanting to live a life she wasn’t granted. But God forbid if I were as weak as she was, if I caused so many people so much misery by my actions. Whatever be the society’s failings and hypocrisies, if I did something like what she did, I’d die much sooner than her. I’d rather fight the hypocrisies bravely than fall a victim of it weakly.”

“You would,” he could not help smiling now.

His smile mesmerized and unnerved her. “I’m… talking too much…” she averted her eyes.

“No. It’s fine. It’s interesting to see that you get so emotionally involved with characters you read about.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled at that, “Mou says I am an idiot to be doing so.”

“Mou?”

“My friend. She sits next to me in the class.”

“Ah! Anyway. I see that you have already missed a class.” She flushed on hearing that. He had known that she was missing a class! “You should not miss another.”

“Yes Sir,” she got up hurried.

“Just a minute, Ms. Gupta,” he stopped her.

“Yes Sir?”

“You were saying something about continuous evaluation the other day? You don’t like it.”

“Uh… Yeah. I know it is supposed to make us study and all. But preparing for tests all the time is not fun. You need time to read, reflect and discuss.”

“Hmm… Okay. You can leave now.”

“Good night, Sir.”

“Good night.”

—

“Choices, indeed!” Mou made a face.

“What happened?” Karishma asked. Mou had been looking at the noticeboard.

“So, apparently the academic senate has come up with a proposal to give us an alternative to continuous evaluation. Instead of tests every week, we could do semester-long projects with presentations every week, under any professor who agrees. So, which is the greater torture according to you, Karishma?”

But Karishma had gotten busy reading the noticeboard and didn’t reply.

“This is interesting,” she said at last, “I should like to go for it over the tests.”

“I’d never do that. But to each his own. Come. We are getting late.”

“Do you remember by when do we have to register if we want to take it up the next semester?” Karishma asked Mou as they walked to the class.

“I think till the end of next month. So, who are you doing it with, Ms. Gupta? With SS?” Mou winked at her. She’d call her ‘Ms. Gupta’ whenever she wanted to tease her about Siddhartha.

Karishma just grinned in reply.

—

“So, what project would you want to do?”

“One idea I had was to create a resource for lay people wanting to read classics. There are several historical and sociological reference that keep people from enjoying them even if they can get past the archaic language.”

“Hmm… Like?”

“Can I use your laptop? I will show you a website which does it for Jane Austen’s work… Here. See. For example it explains why those ladies who didn’t need to work for anything else kept sewing and mending all day. Apparently clothes were not as cheap then. This one here explains how costly the transportation was… Things like these.”

“Interesting. I think this can be taken up. But you will have to do at least one book per week for it to qualify as a valid project. Will you be up for it? It will be time-consuming.”

Ah! The demanding teacher was back. But she wasn’t going to back out now.

“Yes, Prof. Sen. I can do that. At least it saves me from weekly tests.”

“All right, then. Next semester. After the class schedule is announced, we should fix up a one-hour slot ever week to catch up on the progress. Ideally one day before the weekly presentation.”

“Yes Sir.”

“I am glad that you are using this opportunity, Ms. Gupta” he said all of sudden.

“Excuse me?”

“The opportunity of doing a project instead of taking the tests. You disliked that, didn’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” a hesitating smile formed on her lips.

—

To be continued

Anna Karenina as a Feminist Character

Feminism is a collection of movements and ideologies aimed at defining, establishing, and defending equal political, economic, cultural, and social right for women. After reading this definition on Wikipedia, I couldn’t think of a single reason why Anna Karenina should be considered a feminist character, and why it should be such a popular topic of assignments and tests.  If Anna was a feminist, she was an accidental one. A modern reader will not judge her on moral grounds for destroying her loveless marriage. But her capability for rational and sensible thinking is seriously in doubt.  She was fully aware of how precarious her situation was. How could she ever hope to continue seeing her son in that situation? She rejected a divorce in the hope of not breaking that relationship, which even a modern reader can guess was impossible in her circumstances. In the process she rejected even the little feminist choice the circumstances were providing her with. If she were a feminist and sincerely believed herself to have the right to choose, she wouldn’t have been ashamed of herself. At the very least, she should either have had the strength to stay away from society and still be happy, or to not feel tortured at the jeering.

If there is a feminist character in the novel, I would rather say it is Karenin, Anna’s husband. The novel is not generous to him. His act of not going for a duel is considered unmanly. But what can be a more vulgar display of patriarchy than fighting a duel over a woman’s sexual life.  He gives her the freedom to continue seeing her lover, if only external proprietary were maintained, and he wasn’t forced to own up the situation publicly and give divorce. The novel portrays this too as the sin of non-passion. I am inclined to think that he gave her as much freedom and choice, while still shielding her from the harm and ridicule, as the society and laws allowed him. He is the feminist character in whose portrayal the novel doesn’t do enough justice. After all, wouldn’t the male feminists of today be considered sissy in a publicly-acknowledged patriarchal society?

The assignment was much longer and had gone beyond word-limit, but Professor Siddhartha Sen read on without taking his eyes off the notebook even once. By the time he finished, a smile was playing on his lips. A smile, which if it were seen publicly, would have surprised his colleagues as well as students. He was known as a good, but an extremely demanding teacher.  He wasn’t ill-tempered, but he wasn’t amiable either. In particular, he was a strict disciplinarian. He reached his class five minutes before the scheduled time, started the lecture at exactly the scheduled time, and once the lecture started, he wouldn’t allow anyone to enter the class, even if they were late only by a minute or a half. Deadlines for his assignments were similarly strict to the last minute. He collected them from his mailbox right at the deadline and even if others came in while he was still collecting them, they won’t be graded.  Not even a missing comma escaped his attention while grading the tests and not failing his course was enough of an achievement even for the best of the students. And he didn’t smile.

—

Karishma’s eyes widened when she looked at the notebook returned by the teaching assistant. Mou, her best friend, peeped in almost at the same time and shrieked. “OMFG.  Karishma Gupta. Ten on ten. On an English assignment? From SS of all people?”

“Hush Mou. Until I see this on the final grade-sheet, I do not believe it. I think he had intended a zero. By mistake a line has been drawn before it and it looks like ten. This is not expected of Mr. Perfectionist, is it?”

“Oh shut up, you sly creature. If you don’t want me to read you assignment, just say so.”

“Read it, if you wish. It’s not like he is going to give the same assignment again,” she carelessly flung the notebook at Mou, who caught it with some difficulty. Then she coolly reminded her, “But you would do better to rush to the class. He is giving a quiz today, do you remember?”

“Damn this continuous evaluation. And SS takes it to heart. Other professors are not so keen on giving tests every week.”

Another surprise awaited Karishma, once the test was over.

“I will need help in carrying these papers to my room. The TA is absent,” Siddhartha Sen said to nobody in particular after collecting the test papers from students.Then suddenly he looked at her, “Ms. Gupta. Would you mind carrying them?”

Karishma was too nonplussed with his request to take note of everybody’s eyes on her. The question in her mind, and in those eyes was the same, however. ‘Siddhartha Sen knows her by name?’

She got up looking dazed, picked up one stack of test papers and followed him silently to his office.

—

“There… On the right side on the desk,” he told her where to keep the papers. “You assignment was quite interesting.”

“Huh?” she was startled.

“Are you unwell? You look lost.”

“No. No… Thank you. But I am fine. I was just a little preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied?”

“There are more tests today. This continuous evaluation is getting on our nerves.”

“Well… At least, it keeps you all on your toes.”

“Keeps making us prepare for tests all the time. Leaves little time to study.”

“Ah! Students are dying to study otherwise, you mean?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I cannot speak for everyone, but even those who do want to study, cannot.”

“Hmm… Anyway. I was saying that your assignment was interestingly written. Although there is a lot of scope for debate, the originality was commendable.”

Her face flushed despite herself. It was indeed ten on ten then. She wasn’t being bashful in front of Mou. She indeed hadn’t been sure of that, having done the assignment recklessly.

“Thank you, Sir,” she managed to mumble before leaving.

Siddhartha could not suppress a smile seeing her walking away hurriedly as if bitten by something.

—

To be continued