‘I work in a bank. So does my husband. Different banks though.’
‘How is your husband taking it?’
The response was pretty late.
‘He is pretending that whatever has happened can be forgotten, that we should move on. That’s how he is taking it,’ she said, frowning. She felt as if Shayan had smirked and turned to look at him.
‘You know my wife and I had a love marriage. We thought we were soulmates. We thought we were always on the same page. And we sure were. But it took us a few years of married life to realize we were on the same page of two very different books.’
Priyanjali felt overwhelmed. Hers had been an arranged marriage and she had never felt that her husband and she were ever on the same page. Till now her marriage had been a constant struggle to be on the same page. But which page was that? Where was it? When would she find it? She had no answers. When Binny had been born she had thought that they were close to that page but now that her son was gone she felt that she would never find that elusive page.
Priyanjali’s phone rang. She picked it up and answered something in a low voice. Shayan couldn’t hear anything.
‘Husband’s home. I’ll have to leave now. Bye,’ Priyanjali said and, without waiting for a response, left.
They didn’t say it but they both knew that they would there in the park the next day at the same time. What Priyanjali didn’t know, and Shayan did, was that he had lied to her about their children’s friendship.
* * *
Chapter Three
When Priyanjali came to the park the next evening, she saw Shayan sitting with a box on his lap. He waved at her. Instead of waving, she gave him a tight-lipped smile. By the time she reached the bench, she knew what was on his lap.
‘It’s Titu’s birthday. His mother is unreachable. I couldn’t help but cut a cake. Then I thought I may not be alone in this park.’ He looked at Priyanjali. She didn’t meet his eyes and instead sat beside him.
‘What’s the flavour?’
‘Black Forest, his favourite.’
‘Let’s open it.’
Shayan opened the box, planted a small candle in the cake and lighted it.
‘May I request you to blow it?’
‘Me?’
‘Titu loved your Maggi noodles.’
Priyanjali smiled and blew out the candle. Shayan cut a piece and held it up for Priyanjali to take a bite. But she instead politely took it from his hands.
‘I guessed it would be Black Forest,’ she said.
‘How come?’ Shayan’s surprise was genuine.
‘I realized last night that Binny used to write a diary. I found it while going through his stuff. I don’t know how I didn’t find it earlier.’
‘Did he mention Titu?’
‘Only on every other page. Black Forest was also there. I don’t know why they didn’t talk to each other during their karate class?’
‘They did. You would drop and later pick up Binny, but I would sit through the class.’
‘You did?’
Shayan nodded. ‘I would find them doing all sorts of mischief. And then turning into gentlemen the moment the class got over.’
‘Don’t mind, but I’ll take another piece. I don’t know why but I really like sweets these days.’
‘Sweets take care of the sorrow within,’ Shayan said, and cut a piece for himself.
‘Within here only,’ Priyanjali said, pointing to her temples, and added, ‘but never here.’ She tapped on her chest a couple of times.
‘Why didn’t you have a second child?’ Shayan asked. He knew it was too personal a question to ask, but he didn’t apologize. He knew she would answer. Sooner or later.
‘I had had complications during my first delivery. The doctor was pretty clear that I shouldn’t conceive again. I was confident there won’t be a need to. I was happy with Binny. He was my world.’
Blanketed in a warm darkness, the park bench exuded a certain emotional comfort. The warmth also made them abandon all formality.
‘My wife and I didn’t even try again. In fact, it has been long since we were intimate. I don’t know how it happened, when it happened. It’s as if it was all a dream and when we woke up we understood it was actually a nightmare. I don’t think we will connect again, ever.’
‘Do you want to connect with her again?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not.’
‘Do you think our children’s death have exposed something about ourselves to us? Something that had better stayed hidden?’
‘I think whatever was hidden was hidden for far too long. If it has surfaced, there must be a reason behind it, and we should respect it.’
‘I agree,’ Priyanjali sounded pensive.
‘What if years later we realize what we thought was the reason wasn’t really the real reason?’
‘I have wondered about that. But I haven’t been able to find a solution.’
‘Maybe because solutions come to mind when we are actually in a problematic situation?’
‘Maybe we find out solutions when we are seeking them with all our heart. Maybe right now we aren’t seeking the situation with all our heart.’
Priyanjali’s phone rang. When she was done, Shayan knew it was time for her to leave.
‘Would you like to keep this? To combat the sorrow?’ Shayan said with a smile, gesturing to his temples while offering her the remaining cake.
‘I will let you try that for once,’ Priyanjali said.
‘Can’t wait to tell you if it works.’ It was an indirect way of telling each other that they will meet again.
Today Priyanjali had lied. Her son had had no diary. She had lied because she wanted to express, to connect to someone. There was an innate desire to get rid of the person she had become after the death of her son. While walking home, she wondered, in the process of getting rid of that person will she become a new one?
* * *
Chapter Four
Priyanjali arrived at the park at the same time the next evening. But the bench where Shayan and she usually sat was empty. She had become habituated to finding him sitting there. She walked around the park twice and then decided to leave. It was when she had just come out of the park that she found Shayan standing across the road. He briskly walked towards her.
‘I’m sorry. I went for some work to south Kolkata. Took a cab but it broke down half a kilometre from here.’
The unasked-for justification told Priyanjali that he too thought their rendezvous was more than mere meetings.
‘You came running?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t want to miss you . . . in the park. That’s all.’
‘You sure you want to be in the park?’
‘I wouldn’t have come running otherwise.’
‘Let’s go back then. You need to sit down and catch your breath.’
They walked beside each other quietly till they reached the bench. This time Priyanjali sat closer to Shayan. Whether it was intentional or not, Shayan didn’t know. He knew interpretations like these moulded one’s mind, one’s attitude towards another. Not that he wasn’t interested in that moulding.
‘The cake did help,’ he said.
‘I was sure it would.’
‘Thanks, Priyanjali.’ It was the first time he had taken her name.
‘Don’t mention it, Shayan,’ she said.
‘I feel like the days are simply flying away while I’m static. As if life has become a time-lapse video or whatever it’s called. You know the kind which is shown in movies?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Are you into movies?’
‘Not much. If I come across any interesting trailers, I make plans with my office team.’
‘Not husband?’
‘Oh, no! He invariably falls asleep in the theatre. It’s better that he sleeps at home.’
The heaviness that had earlier characterized their conversations was slowly lifting. It was becoming progressively lighter. And they had the feeling o
f going with the flow. Such justifications were important for both of them because they didn’t belong to each other the way they belonged to their spouses.
‘What about you?’ Priyanjali asked.
‘I watch only Bengali art house films or world cinema. Not much into masala flicks.’
‘You don’t look that type either. I enjoy all kinds of movies though. Depends on what draws me in. I don’t think I am that selective about my movies. I’ve seldom had niche tastes about anything. The same with food. I like everything.’
‘And what about men? You like everyone?’
Priyanjali realized that Shayan was kidding.
‘I’ll be so judged if I said yes right now.’
‘Not really judged. But generalizations in certain aspects kill all rays of hope.’
‘Now I know why you had a love marriage.’
‘Really? Why?’
‘You are good with words. I’m sure you could woo women easily.’
‘Didn’t try to woo many. The one I tried to became my wife.’
‘Are you sad that you didn’t?’
‘I’m not sad but I’m a man. The itch will always be there. Whether I act upon it or not is different.’
‘I like that you are so honest about it.’
‘Does that tick something off your list?’
‘God, are we flirting?’
They burst out laughing but Priyanjali stopped abruptly.
‘You know I’m laughing after nearly a month and a half?’
‘That’s true for me as well.’ But unlike Priyanjali, Shayan didn’t sound so uptight. Their conversation was cut short by a third person, an elderly gentleman, who sat beside Priyanjali. Realizing that she was feeling awkward, Shayan stood up.
‘Let’s take a walk.’
They walked around the park. No words were exchanged. When two people are comfortable with each other’s silences, there is often a latent, unfiltered chemistry waiting to surface. Shayan noticed her glance at her phone a few times. He understood that perhaps she was checking the time.
‘No call from your husband today?’ he asked.
‘He isn’t in the city for the next few days,’ she said and added after a few seconds as she turned towards the exit, ‘but my mother is. I told her I was going out to buy vegetables. My brother and his wife are visiting us for dinner. They think I can’t handle it alone.’
‘It’s strange but we are always stronger than our near and dear ones think we are.’
‘That’s because they love us.’
‘And love makes us weak.’
‘Depends,’ she said with a smile, and took her leave. When she crossed the road, she heard Shayan yell, ‘Tomorrow I’ll be on time.’
She smile and disappeared into another lane.
* * *
Chapter Five
‘Have you ever been jealous of someone’s luck?’ Priyanjali asked. They were sitting on the bench.
‘I have been jealous of people more than their luck,’ Shayan said.
‘Last night during dinner I kept looking at my brother’s wife. I’m jealous of her luck.’
‘Why? What does she have that you don’t?’
‘Happiness. Unadulterated happiness. She looks so damn, genuinely happy.’
‘Is it because of . . . ?’
‘Not just because of Binny’s death. It has always been this way. It is because of these negative feelings that I think I deserve the situation I’m in right now.’
‘You’re forgetting, Priyanjali, that you’re not alone. It’s you, me and all those other parents who lost their children that day.’
There were a few minutes of silence.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I thought so to validate my negativity. We always seek reasons to cover up our dark side, isn’t it? Maybe I’m an inherently jealous person. If you don’t mind, may I ask you something?’ Priyanjali looked at him.
‘Sure.’
‘Were you ever involved romantically with anyone other than your wife?’
‘No. It has been ten years since we saw each other, met, dated, married and had a son. I’ve never been involved with anyone else. What about you?’
‘I did date a boy back in college, but you know how it was back then. Nobody is that serious even if they pretend to be. I always knew it wouldn’t fructify.’
‘I understand. And by fructify you mean marriage?’
‘Yes, marriage. My husband and I have been married for a little over a decade now.’
‘Did you have any affairs or flings in between?’
‘No, nothing. Tell me something . . . ’
The way Priyanjali was steering the conversation made Shayan realize how clogged her mind was. Not that his was sorted, but he decided to hold on to his questions for the time being and listen to her patiently. Patience had always been his virtue.
‘What do you do when after investing so much time and emotion into a relationship, you realize it’s not working out?’ The eagerness with which she asked the question made Shayan realize that she had needed an answer for a long time.
‘What else can you do except for getting on with life?’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘I know, but . . .’
‘Won’t the fear of probably reaching a dead end curtail one’s instinct of giving the feelings you feel for someone a try?’
‘We always take away newer fears from an old broken relationship. And more often than not inject it into the next one. And sometimes we lose the opportunity for a new relationship because we are a little too scared.’
‘I think that happens because what all of us want is a destination. Or at least the promise of one, isn’t it?’
‘Agreed. That promise is so important to all of us. We just can’t take a ride without knowing where we’re heading. If not exactly, at least a vague idea. That helps us decide how much time and emotion we should invest.’
‘And yet deep inside we know that that promise is nothing but an illusion. Who has seen the future? Who knows it? The truth is anything can go wrong at any time. That’s how vulnerable we are. How can we be sure of something when the system we live in is so chaotic?’
‘We can only look back at things when they have happened and tell ourselves that they had to happen. That’s all that we can do. Right now I look back at my marriage and realize that it had to fall apart. When it was in the process of falling apart, I had no clue. In retrospection, I can see the clues without any difficulty.’
‘I have always wondered why isn’t being in a relationship an end in itself? A relationship that has no future but only the present.’ Priyanjali glanced at Shayan; he looked amused.
‘I’m talking shit, isn’t it?’
‘No, no. You are saying stuff a man will love to hear. We hate a future where we are tethered to just one woman.’
‘Such dogs!’ Priyanjali blurted out.
‘I’m sorry. I was kidding.’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t usually utter profanities.’
‘Then I’m glad I could squeeze something rare out of you.’
‘Do you realize how smooth you are at flirting?’
‘Do you think it happens as smoothly with everyone?’
‘There you go again. Huh!’
Shayan laughed. At that moment his phone rang. He took it out of his trousers’ pocket and as soon as he saw the name of the caller, he stopped laughing.
‘Excuse me.’ He stood up and walked ahead to take the call. Priyanjali kept looking at him. He seemed a little withdrawn. Shayan finished the call within a minute. In that minute he listened more than he talked. Then he came back.
‘You have to excuse me today. My wife is back. I’ll have to go.’
Priyanjali felt like a child whose soap bubbles had burst at the same time.
* * *
Chapter Six
She was in two minds about visiting the park that evening. What if Shayan hadn’t come? She didn’t
want to be disappointed. At work, she decided not to go to the park. But when the time came, as if she was under a spell, she took a cab straight to the park from office. But she didn’t get out of it till she spotted Shayan sitting on the bench.
‘I thought you will not come today.’
‘My wife didn’t come to stay with me. She was there to collect a few things that she had forgotten earlier.’
‘So she left again?’ Priyanjali asked as she sat beside him.
Shayan nodded. ‘This morning,’ he said.
‘Why is she behaving like that?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t want to know.’
‘Doesn’t she realize leaving you right now will harm your relationship even more?’
‘Maybe she wants it that way? Maybe she wants me to end it because no matter how much she wants it herself, she will never the guts to say it? It can be anything. We are so complex. We say something, mean something else and desire something completely different.’
‘Hmm, I agree. Even I’m not that open with my husband. At least your wife is still expressing herself through her actions. I’m not even capable of doing that. I will never be able to leave him and stay with my parents.’
‘What’s stopping you?’
‘I am. Even if I want to I can’t just live for myself or take selfish decisions. Other lives are attached to mine. And my one action is bound to affect the people connected to me. If I go to my parents’ house and tell them my husband and I have always been incompatible, they will not understand. Nor will the society that they are answerable to. Incompatibility isn’t a good enough reason to leave one’s husband. And invariably I’ll be written off as someone who couldn’t handle her marriage.’
‘So you fear the society?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘I’m not sure about fear but it does amputate the real me at different levels. The real me knows it’s over with my wife but the one that abides by the rules of the society may carry on living like this for I don’t know how many years. Maybe for the rest of my life.’
‘You had a love marriage; perhaps you will be able to answer this. We human beings need companionship; we are hopeless without co-habitation, but tell me does familiarity breed contempt? Do we stop being attractive to our partners over time?’
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