The Cara Coffee Bar: A Novella

 Chapter 1

At the crossroads, I spotted her strolling towards the Cara Coffee Bar. It was her petite frame and carefree attitude that helped me to recognize her from a distance. I would certainly run after her but I was with Mom in a taxi. Mom had an appointment with Dr. Mukherjee, which she had been waiting for a month.

“Nowadays you aren’t taking care of me as earlier,” Mom said

I couldn’t understand why she was telling me like that so I asked her, “How have you concluded?”

“Because you have forgotten to have an appointment with Dr. Mukherjee for me which I had asked you many days ago.”

“I have not forgotten. I was there yesterday but couldn’t get the appointment as she is abroad.”

Mom looked at me affectionately and said, “I was just teasing you as I am confident you must have inquired about it.”

“Thanks, Mom, for having confidence in me,” I said.

Mom laughed to listen to my formal tone of saying and I also joined her into her laughter.

Whether in clinics or hospitals, it always gives me uneasiness, although I am aware of its necessity in our lives. In recent years, the reputation of hospitals has been on the decline because of their highly commercial attitude that often overshadows humanity, which had been considered an integral part of the health sector and, for that reason, godliness was seen in the service of doctors.

I visited the clinic several times before having an appointment with Dr. Mukherjee for Mom. I was satisfied that it was scheduled in the morning on Saturday as I had planned to visit the library on Sunday.

Mom was pleased to have confirmation of the appointment.

“It’s fine. I will take this opportunity to see Urmila as I have been missing her since our meeting last year. Her house is in the same lane.”

“Yes. I know. It will be better if we visit Urmila Aunty on the way returning from the clinic,” I suggested.

Mom agreed to my suggestion instantly.

On Friday, a day before the appointment with the doctor Mom asked me for the wrapping paper.

“Don’t forget to bring the wrapping paper from the store near your university,” she reminded me when I was getting ready for the university.

“Are you going to give a gift to Dr. Mukherjee,” I asked her laughing.

She didn’t mind and replied, “I don’t feel it is possible in my lifetime.”

“Then why are you so worried about the wrapping paper?”

“I want to give a pleasant surprise to Urmila.”

I was curious about the gift so I asked, “What kind of a gift do you have in mind for Urmila Aunty?

She smiled and replied, “It will be revealed to you in the evening when you come home from the university with a lovely wrapping paper.”

After having dinner, Mom asked me to come to her room. I saw an old book in her hand.

She showed me the title of the book. It was Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina.

“Mom, do you think Aunty will be pleased to receive an old book from you? If you want to give her Anna Karenina as a gift, give her a new print of the book,” I said with disappointment as I was not happy with the choice of Mom for the gift.

“You are right at your place because you don’t know why I am gifting the book to Urmila?”

“What’s special about the book?” I asked.

She opened the book and showed me the page where something was written in hand. I read it carefully, someone had presented the book to Urmila Aunty long ago with the wordings, ‘Dearest Urmila, hope you will like it, with love.’

“Do you know who has written this?” I asked.

“Of course, I know. Her father had presented the book to Urmila on her eighteenth birthday, a day before he died in an accident. I still remember Urmila being very possessive of the book as it was the departing gift from her father but one day it mysteriously disappeared.”

“But how is the book with you?”

“You will not believe I bought it from a grocery store last week. How sad? It was going to be used for groceries.”

Mom was serious, but it amused me to think how I would react if someone came up with his television serials with the title, Tolstoy In A Grocery Store.

I didn’t share the funny imagination with Mom in the apprehension of her angry look and, came back silently to my room after helping her wrap the gift. 

When we reached the taxi stand for a ride, the clouds were hovering over the sky. Mom looked at the sky and said, “The rain is a good sign, I always wait for it.”

I preferred to be silent on the subject as I was afraid that rain would contribute to worsening the traffic. 

Earlier, Mom was never happy to visit the clinic, but for the first time, I saw her pleased and willing to go there.

Quickly I realized her happiness and willingness were not for the clinic but for Urmila Aunty.

When our taxi came at the signal of the crossroads on the way to the clinic, I noticed her, and my eyes followed her as far as possible, eluding from the observation of Mom sitting beside me. 

The appointment was at 11.30 AM but our turn came around noon. I asked Mom when she came out of the chamber, “Has the doctor prescribed some new medicines?”

“No. She has advised me to continue the same medicine and consult her next month.”

“Give me the prescription and wait at the reception. Let me buy the medicine from the chemist, “I said to Mom and proceeded to the chemist after receiving the old prescription from her.

All the prescribed medicines were not available from the chemist inside the clinic, so I decided to buy the rest of the medicine from the chemist near home. 

We reached the house of Urmila Aunty in the afternoon. I pressed the doorbell twice, but there was no response. Mom told me to wait. We waited for fifteen minutes but no one responded.

At last, I knocked on the door. The door opened and Urmila Aunty appeared before us. She welcomed us with a smile.

“Sorry. The doorbell has gone out of order this morning,” she said and took Mom in her arms.

Her living room was like a big hall. We settled on the sofas.

“Sheila has gone to market, and I have to talk with your Mom a lot, so you have to serve the cold drinks,” Urmila Aunty asked me, pointing to the kitchen.

I went to the kitchen and brought the coke from the fridge.

Meanwhile, Sheila, the maid came from the market and served snacks to us.

I thought that Mom had forgotten about the gift in the course of gossiping but I was wrong.

“I have a gift for you,” Mom said taking out the packet from her handbag.

“Was there any need for it?” Urmila Aunty asked accepting the packet from Mom.

“You will get the answer after opening it,” Mom said looking into her eyes.

“If it is so, I am opening it right now,” Urmila Aunty said removing the wrapping.

She looked at her father’s handwritten words in the book and sobbed. We were shocked to note that her sobbing gradually intensified into crying. Sheila came running to her but returned to the kitchen when we requested her to do so.

Mom was nervous to see her in tears. Her tears were continuously coming down from her eyes and wetting her face.

After having succeeded in controlling her emotions, she asked Mom, “How did you get it?”

Mom narrated in detail how she bought it from a grocery store.

“Unbelievable. After so many years it came back to me.”

“How did you lose it for which you were so concerned about?”

“My mother had asked me to throw it away because of her belief that it was unlucky, as my father died the next day after he gifted it to me. But it was precious to me as a last gift from my father so I hid it under the stake of old newspapers and couldn’t get it again. Now I realize it would have been sold out with old newspapers to the scrap dealer.”

We were getting late so we asked for her permission and came out of her house but couldn’t reach home before midnight as roads were flooded with rainwater. 

I saw her for the first time on a rainy day on our department campus. Her steps on the path submerged in rainwater were steady and firm, hardly bothered by the continuous rain. I was mesmerized by the innate rhythmic movement of her beautiful feet, gleefully playing with the rain.

A few students were in the department due to the heavy rain in the city. I had to submit the assignment that day without fail, so I was there.

All classes were suspended. A few students like me were there getting ready to go out from the campus with their raincoats or umbrellas.

I had been secretly observing her steps with admiration. Undoubtedly, she was beautiful. But it was her uncommon confidence that attracted me more than her prettiness.

She caught me off guard, coming straight to me. I looked at her in astonishment when she asked, “Are you in the final year?”

“Yes”- I replied.

“Do you know Robin?”

“If you mean Robin Rey, I do. He is my classmate and friend. “

She looked at me keenly and smiled.

“Where is he?”

“He has not come to the department today.”

“He had attended the classes yesterday?”

“Yesterday was a holiday. He had attended the classes the day before yesterday.”

“It’s all right, Harish,”- she said, waved her hands and left.

 I was surprised to hear my name from a stranger. How did she know my name? Who she was?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 “I don’t like rainy days,” I said looking out the window.

“Why?”- Robin asked instantly.

It was an unwritten agreement between us to spend every Sunday evening in the Cara Coffee Bar, preferably occupying a table beside the window that opened to the elevated expressway. Those days, the shop didn’t have the grandeur it enjoys nowadays; it was a small establishment with a single-storey building welcoming customers like us who like to kill hours together gossiping over a mug of coffee.

“I can’t explain but it seems to me as if rainy days pour cold water on my aspirations and dreams,” I replied.

“Have you had any bad experiences of rain in your childhood?”

“No, I have no such memory from my childhood.”

“Are you afraid of rain?”

“The fair factor is absent in my relationship with rain.”

“I got it. The rain affects you adversely so you keep yourself away from the rain.”

“It’s true that I have fallen sick due to rain but it happens to everyone sometimes.”

He agreed with me.

Meanwhile, the waiter came with a mug of coffee and served it to our table.

“How do you react to see the couple walking hand in hand in the rain under the open sky?” Robin asked me taking a sip of the coffee.

“I will love the scene and presume that the couple like the rain. ”

“Love changes the perception. One day, you will love rain, that I am sure of.”

“Have you experienced it?”

Robin looked at me closely but didn’t say anything. I was waiting for him to say something.

Finally, he opened his mouth and uttered, “My goodness, I am leaving now to keep my promise to Aunty. I had not been true to my words earlier. She will be mad at me if I skip dinner tonight.”

He collected his raincoat and hurriedly moved towards the exit. I was surprised to see him in such a hurry as I had been in the habit of seeing him walking slowly and comfortably even when a sprint was desirable.

It rained the entire week. Usually, the climate takes pleasure in turning down the predictions of the meteorological department. But that week, after so many days, it honoured the department’s forecast, flooding the city with heavy downpours and bringing life to a halt. As usual, all the promises and claims of the government flowed away in the rain that year as well. Everyone was sure that every year, rain would reveal the reality of the promises and claims but no rain would be able to deter the government from making false promises and baseless claims.

We could resume our Sunday chit-chat after a month. Robin appeared to me with a different look. His face was radiating happiness. I was eager to know the reason but didn’t ask him.

Often, I used to initiate the discussion and did that day too. But after many so many weeks, Robin interrupted me, “How can you have such a view of the rainy day that has motivated so many poets to compose wonderful poems admiring its beauty?”

“I love the poems and understand the importance of the rain in our life.”

“Despite expressing an appreciation for its role in our life, you dislike it.”

“I repeat I don’t like a rainy day.”

“It’s strange. The magic of rain has always fired the imagination of poets and people alike, as rain is usually seen as a symbol of creation and life. I agree with Longfellow that rain should come in everyone’s life.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I can spend a whole day looking at the rain happily satiating the thirsty earth.”

“Fine. Tell me how many times, you have come out in the rain and enjoyed it?”

Robin, after an exceptionally longer pause, replied, “Can’t say exactly, but on a few occasions, I had willingly come out in the rain in my earlier days when I was a kid.”

“There you are; the rainy day is beautiful when you are a little away from it. You appreciate its beauty while standing by the window, sipping strong coffee and reading your favourite book. I agree with Don Paterson to the extent of his declaration of love for films starting with rain because I appreciate raindrops in images,” I said sarcastically.

Robin was about to reply but something precluded him. I could not figure out why, but it seemed to me that he was trying hard to conceal something. Observing his discomfort, I deliberately changed the topic and asked him about his preparation for the debate he was excited about.

His expression changed and I took a sigh of relief to see him regaining his composure.

“Well. I have participated in so many debates in recent months, but for the first time, I am taking part in the National Debate Competition and a little nervous,” he said.

“I believe in the general perception that if we desire something from the core of our heart, it is fulfilled.”

“You are right but it doesn’t work for me. Whenever I have desired anything in earnest, it is never accomplished,” he said with sadness.

“Prof. Ganguly is very hopeful of your winning the competition.’

“He is kind to me. I am indebted to him for his support and guidance that paved the way for my selection to represent the university in the National Championship.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. The positive thinking can do wonders.”

“I don’t deny. But I know, whether I opt for positive or negative thinking, the result will be the same.”

“I will not argue further on the topic but I must ask you to concentrate on your preparation for the debate without bothering about the result.”

“You know, I always consider your suggestions because I find them useful and practical.”

“Thanks. I am curious to know one important thing from you. I have always loved your oratory but tell me how far this skill has helped you in your day-to-day life?”

He thought for a few moments, and said, “People take you seriously in public life if you speak fluently and clearly. I have not tasted its fruit in a financial term.”

“The communication skill always pays so one day you will reap its bumper crop.”

“I don’t know whether it will be financially feasible or not but I am not going to choose it as my profession.”

‘Do you have something specific in your mind about the profession you are going to opt for?”

“No. Just a vague idea I have, which is meaningless until I am qualified for that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Dad says that I should start thinking about it.”

“Yes. My aunt has also the same opinion.”

The uniform quotation of a teacher at my school came to my memory, ‘All the parents dream of a better and successful life for their children, but unfortunately, all the children are not serious about fulfilling the dreams of their parents.’

“Do you think it is easy for us to make the dreams of our parents come true?”

“Not at all. It is getting more difficult day by day, but whatever the reality may be, we can not ignore the desires of our parents, so we have to make all efforts to fulfil their desires whether we succeed or fail.”

“Now you are on the right track. I fully agree with you. Success and failure are reserved for the future, but our efforts are our present.”

“How perfect the track we take, the possibility of the derailment is always there.”

“It’s true but we can not leave the track in fear of the derailment.”

“That’s the dilemma of human beings, and no one can escape from it. We have to take an uncertain path whether we like it or not.”

“The uncertainty makes us strong and courageous. If everything is known to everyone, the meaning of life will change forever.”

“I may be ignorant about the philosophy of life, but I have experienced that whatever path I take, it goes in the wrong direction,” Robin said painfully.

I had observed his happiness at the time of his entry into the coffee bar, but the overall discussion revealed to me that he was disappointed. His points of view indicated that he was plagued with the loss of hope.

Trying to help him recover from his gloominess, I said, “I feel you are sad and disappointed, and that’s why you see things from the wrong perspective.”

“How can you say that?”

“Friend, it is written on your face.”

“Okay. I am not happy. But how can you be sure of my reflecting on things from the wrong perspective?”

“You have just said, that your chosen path leads you in the wrong direction. Start believing in yourself; you will reach your destination.”

“I have tried but it does not work.”

“I am sure it will work if you come out of fear of failure.”

He shivered, and the colour of his face changed. I couldn’t understand the reason for his shivering on my suggestion, a suggestion that had nothing anything new or an element of horror in it.

“Are you all right?” I immediately asked.

“Yes, I am. Suddenly, one incident from my school days flashed in my memory and made me shiver.”

“Tell me what happened,” I asked full of curiosity.

“I had a close friend named Raman. He was a good swimmer but afraid of swimming in a river near his village while the children were freely swimming in that river. He had a feeling that he would be drowned in the river.”

“Did he ever tell you why he had such a feeling?’

“Neither he ever told me nor I asked.”

“There might be a reason for his belief.”

“You may be correct but I am not sure of it. I think a feeling is independent of reasoning.” 

 “Had he ever tried to swim in that river?” I inquired.

“Yes, he did.”

“Could he overcome his fear after that?”

“On an unfortunate day, he tried to overcome his fear and went swimming in the river,” he paused.

“What happened to him? I asked.

“His dead body was found in the river.”

I was speechless.

Robin’s eyes were full of tears which he didn’t try to hide from me. It shocked me to see that his hands were trembling in their efforts to pull out the handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers.

For the first time in my memory, we sat there in complete silence as if we were suddenly gone voiceless; and lost the sense of time. The staff of the Coffee Bar alerted us, and we realized our presence in the deserted bar.     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

The university canteen was a place of interest for every student, not for snacks and drinks but for the latest news about campus activities. It was a haven for the rumour-mongers. There was no insufficiency of topics to take up but the love affairs of the professors were the most engaging and entertaining. The lion’s share of our recess was reserved for the canteen.

Rohit was our chief of intelligence who had all the information about the completed, ongoing and upcoming love affairs of our teachers. His favourite catchphrase was ‘authentic news.’

“Friends, I have authentic news for you,’ he said and paused for our reactions.

In no time, we surrounded him. There was a pin-drop silence.

After being confirmed and satisfied that all our ears were to him, he continued, “I am going to reveal the most authentic and latest news to you which you can’t even imagine.”

“Does it relate to the love affair of Dr. Rana?” Sudhir asked him.

“I have observed that you always relate my authentic news to love affairs.”

“It’s because of your interest in such news. Most of your authentic news revolves around the so-called affairs without its authenticity.”

“I admit that I have brought news of love affairs to you but I don’t agree with you that those were not authentic.”

“I have many examples, but right now, I give you one instance of the fake news you authentically revealed. Dr. Rana is deeply in love with Ms. Chatterjee whereas you had claimed that they were no more in the relationship.”

“Thank you, Sudhir. I will keep track of their affairs for your sake.”

We were amused but Sudhir flushed. There was a reason for him to be red-faced but it surprised me when I found Aman was disturbed with the discussion on the subject. 

Rohit said to us, further justifying the authenticity of his news, “Friends, I always come to you with authentic news, but if the news is proved wrong later on, our sources are to be blamed. I bring news for you from reliable sources, but sometimes the sources compromise with news of dubious nature under compulsion or for financial reasons, for which I can not be blamed.”

“What happened to your latest news? Javed reminded Rohit.

“I am coming to that. I have worked hard to get the authentic and latest news for you. It may give you sleepless nights so I ask you for your consent before revealing the news to you.”

Javed, who was aware of every dramatic move of Rohit, quipped, “Your introduction to the authentic news is getting longer and longer. Would you be a little faster so that you can give us the news within five minutes?”

Rohit stared at him and asked, “Why?”

Javed was all smiles. He pointed to the wall clock of the canteen and said, “Because recess is going to be over.”

We couldn’t control our laughter. The sound of our laughter echoed in the hall and shook the foundation of the canteen.

Rohit was the first to leave the canteen. He publicly displayed his annoyance and irritation. We all left for our classes one by one in silence.

The authentic news died authentically.

Our scheduled meeting at the coffee bar was deferred for an indefinite period. On our way home from the university, Robin informed me that he wouldn’t be available for the Sunday meetings. It was easy to apprehend because of my awareness of his being occupied in preparation for the debate.

“Of course, you must devote your time to the preparation for the debate,” I said

“I am not preoccupied with that. Some other urgent business needs my time and attention.”

“That’s fine, but when, our meeting will begin again,” I asked him.

“I can’t say,” he said in a miffed tone.

Something was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to share it with me, so he hurriedly left for the main gate and disappeared. 

I realized it happened for the first time in our long friendship. It was against his nature to show his irritation and restrict himself from sharing something with me.   

Mom asked me,” What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Anyone can say, looking at your face, that something is bothering you.”

My long experience had taught me that it was impossible to hide anything from Mom, so I said,” I could not figure out the reason for the changed behavior, of Robin, so I was thinking over it.”

“I got it. Are you talking about your friend?”

“Yes.”

“Take some rest. I will try to help you in coming to a solution to the problem after having dinner,” Mom said and went to attend the jobs in the kitchen.

I wanted to discuss the matter at the dinner table but postponed looking at the face of Mom. Her tiredness was visible there. I shifted my attention from Mom to my dishes and suppressed my desire to discuss anything on any matter, during the dinner.

Mom was reading my mind so she said,” Don’t worry. I am not so tired that I can not discuss the issue you are trying to suppress, but not right now, in any case. I will take up the matter after dinner as promised.”

“It’s not as important as your health. Tomorrow is a holiday. It will be better if we discuss the matter tomorrow.”

“I am fine. Finish your dinner and come to the living room within half an hour,” Mom asked me and left for her room after depositing her used dishes in the sink.

Mom was already there when I entered the living room on the ground floor. I have a special attachment to the place. It is still in memory, how I had protested against the decision to shift me to the first floor. I was in standard eight when the first floor was added to our house. I heard from Dad that Mom had been dreaming about it since my birth.

It was a dream come true for Mom but Dad was not less happy than her or rather happier. He had worked hard for years to make it a possibility. The positive result of his efforts and the fulfilment of his long-time wishes for Mom had made him cheerful and satisfied.

Somehow Dad had convinced me to shift to the first floor. I was surprised to find my new room beautifully decorated. The smell of paint was still there and I liked it.

“Come here and sit beside me,” Mom asked me.

I obeyed and sat down.

“I have pondered over the issue. I am going to ask you some questions. Remember, your answers to the questions will be the basis of the solution.”

“I am ready.”

“What do you know about Robin?”

“He has been with me in the university for the last two years.”

“That’s fine. But I mean where does he live? How many members are in his house?”

“I don’t know. We have never discussed such things. But I presume he is residing with his aunt as he has not ever mentioned his parents.”

“When did you observe the change in his behaviour for the first time?”

“Yesterday.”

“What is his hobby or area of interest?

“He is a good orator and represents the university for the National Debate Championship.”

“Do you think, he is worried about the championship?”

“He is. But he told me that he had other urgent business to attend.”

“Did he share the details with you?”

“No.”

“Now forget about it and go to bed. I will analyze and give my views tomorrow.”

I left for my room. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

I am not an early riser. Earlier, Mom used to complain about my bad habit of leaving bed so late, but now she has given up after I failed my promises.

Since Mom has stopped saying anything about my failure to change my habit, I feel guilty. It never occurred to me before that I should have blamed myself for my broken promises when Mom was complaining. I had tried my best to change my habit and reap the benefits of leaving bed in the early morning but could not succeed because of the temptation of the sweet sleep in the hours a little before sunrise.

Human nature is very complex. I still remember an incident from my childhood. There was a garden full of tulips a little distance away from home. The caretaker of that garden was an old man. A group of four of my friends decided to pluck some tulips from the garden, taking the benefit of the absence of the caretaker during the lunch hour, but the attempt of the group failed because of the sudden appearance of the caretaker from nowhere. He shouted at us and we fled away. Gradually it became a game for us to pluck some tulips from the garden some way or the other without being offended by his yelling at us.

But we lost interest in the garden once we came to know, that the caretaker had left the place due to his sickness, and there was no one to shout at us and prevent us from plucking the tulips.

I decided to give a surprise to Mom; and prayed to God for his blessings before going to sleep.

My eyes opened at 4.45 in the morning and I left the bed happily to say hello to Mom, imagining her gleaming eyes with delight to see me coming to her in the early morning.

Her room is on the ground floor. Dad had asked her to shift to the first floor, but she convinced him it was more comfortable and convenient because the kitchen and worship room were on the ground floor.

Mom is very particular about the look of the house; both internal and external. I have been warned by Mom many times for not placing things back in their place after use. She is very systematic which is in sharp contrast to my nature of taking such things casually.

She was not in her room. It horrified me when I couldn’t find her in the living room, kitchen and store. I called her several times at the top of my voice but there was no reply. Suddenly it struck me that she might be worshiping. I rushed to the worship room.

I was shocked to see her lying on the floor senseless.

For almost two weeks, I ran between home and the hospital, unconcerned about rain or shine, until she was discharged from the hospital. Dad joined us the next day after the mishap, leaving his official annual conference in the lurch; he was attending at Shimla.

Mom was feeling better. Since Mom fell sick, we changed our habit of having dinner at late hours. Despite the request to order meals from outside, Dad continued cooking for us.

I finished my dinner at 8.00 PM and came to my room as I had to write the assignment for submission to the department.

While going to bed at midnight, I heard the rattling sound of the gunfire in the air, followed by a siren. Something was wrong. I prayed to God for the peace.

I wanted to see outside, so I was about to open the window, but Dad hurriedly came up and asked me not to open the window. The sound of running feet was audible to us. The fear took us in its grip and forced us to confine ourselves in one room looking at each other in a terrorized silence.

Our worries doubled when the television channels began airing the breaking news of the curfew imposed in the city.

The vicious rumour spread like wildfire, and the entire city came under its flame, seriously damaging harmony and trust.

Dad said painfully, “The flame will die after some hours but the damage is lifelong.”

Fortunately, normalcy returned to the city within fifteen days, but it appeared to us as years.

Dad asked me to resume my university classes as he was there to take care of Mom, recuperating from her illness, but I requested him to allow me to stay home for some more days, to which he readily agreed.

The impact of her illness was visible in every corner of the house. I had never witnessed the house in such a mess, and it made me conscious of my inability to take proper care of my house, a consciousness which I was not ready to accept because of its clear indication of my failure to carry the responsibility in a situation when Mom was weak owing to her sickness. I cursed my laziness and began to arrange the things in proper order.

Dad was in the kitchen preparing lunch for us. I initiated my cleaning drive from the living room, dusting the walls, ceiling, table, arranging books on the shelf, changing the sofa covers and curtains and, replacing the withered flowers with fresh ones in the vase.

Since Dad had been transferred to Mumbai, his room was used as a Guest Room, the room I targeted the next. It came to my memory that once, I had bought the wallpaper as Mom wanted to give an attractive look to one of the walls of the room as she was not in favour of decorating all the walls, but it remained unused due to the sudden change of her mind.

While cleaning the room, the thought of using that wallpaper to decorate the room came to my mind, but I cancelled it as it was not proper to do so without the consent of Mom, who had deferred her decision on it for some reason. I felt her illness had made me more sympathetic and affectionate towards Mom, a feeling that would bring smiles to her if revealed to her.

However, I arranged the room as I had wished for. There was no question of giving a new look to Mom’s room. It was almost unimaginable not only because of her being in bed due to illness but also because of my feeling that she would not like her room to be intruded on.

It was tiresome but not as boring as I had expected. I rushed to the bathroom attached to my room and took the shower for a longer period, than usual. It refreshed me and took away all my tiredness.

When I came down from my room and entered the living room to scrutinize my work, I saw Dad sitting there on the sofa, observing the changed look of the room. His attention was diverted by the sound of my footsteps. He looked at me and said, ”Good job. It surprised me as I was not expecting it from you?”

“Why Dad?” I asked.

“Because the present generation tries to escape from the responsibility.”

“Is it your views, or are you mentioning the general perception?”

“Of course, it is a general perception but sometimes it affects my opinion as well.”

“It means that your opinion is different from the general perception.”

“Yes. You are correct. I do not endorse the perception because it is repeated from generation to generation. My father used to say the same thing to me when I was your age.”

“Is it due to the generation gap?”

“People say so but it is not the reality.”

“What’s the reality?”

“Both old and new generations are not ready to accept each other. However, I am of the view, that the old generation is more responsible for widening the gap because of not utilizing their long experience properly.”

“How should they utilize their experience?”

“They should welcome the changes, appreciate its positive qualities and take the new generation in confidence.”

“Are you confident that it will work?”

“Yes. I am aware it’s not so easy, but we should make efforts in that direction.”

Dad looked at the wall clock and got up from the sofa as it was time to give medicine to Mom.

I prepared a new timetable for my study in such a way, that I could have spare time to help Dad until Mom fully recovered from her illness. Initially, Dad objected to my proposal to help him in the kitchen, but his objection weakened after some time, and I got access to the kitchen. Slowly, I picked up and started taking over his job in the kitchen.

One day when I was passing by the room of Mom, I overheard Dad saying to Mom about my taking care of household activities,” Your sickness has made Harish more responsible.”

“How can you say that?” Mom asked.

“I was not there. He arranged to get you admitted to the hospital.”

“That I know. In an emergency, people do wonder.”

“Agree. Now he has voluntarily taken over all the household activities, and this is a real surprise for me.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

“I am glad too.”

“But I am not happy with you.”

“Why? Have I done something wrong?” Dad asked.

“You have just said that he became more responsible because of my illness. It means you want to see me sick.”

Dad was speechless as he had never imagined that his observation would be interpreted in such a way.

“You have not changed. You are still as simple as I had found you at our first meeting. I am surprised you can not appreciate a simple joke,” Mom said and laughed.

I was amused to see him coming out of Mom’s room embarrassed but pleased.

For the first time, I realized the significance of managing the time. Earlier I had never thought about it. Mom was right, the early riser gets more time for its proper utilization. I had always been in a hurry to reach the university on time as I used to get up around eight in the morning. Since I started leaving bed before sunrise, I had adequate time to meet my needs.

Dad had been away from his office for many weeks so he was waiting for the recovery of Mom from her sickness. After being satisfied with the health of Mom, Dad planned and left for Mumbai to resume her duties but did not forget to ask me to take care of Mom before leaving.

Dad had left for Mumbai to resume his duties, and our old routine returned. I took over the duty of Dad in his absence giving medicines to Mom on time. It gave me a sense of responsibility, and I was happy to carry out it. Mom was asking me to leave it to her, but I didn’t listen to her, and I felt she was not angry with me for my refusal to adhere to her advice.

I was missing him. Perhaps, it was because of his longer period of stay with us, which was for the first time in my memory. Mom read my mind and said,” I see you are missing your Dad. Don’t worry, we shall visit Mumbai during our summer vacation.”

“That’s nice but whether he will be able to give us so much time there as he had to attend his office.”

“Yes. He will give us adequate time even after attending his office.”

“That will be wonderful,” I said happily.

“Your study will not be hampered, I hope.”

“No. I can work on my assignment anywhere.”

“Now I am satisfied. Plan your study so you can complete your courses.”

“Yes Mom,” I assured her, that it would be taken care of.

My assurance to Mom pleased her, but it worried me a little. I had to complete the courses within one and half months, all alone because Robin had discontinued the Sunday evening meetings at which we used to discuss various things along with the subjects of our courses.

As soon as the name of Robin came to my mind, my promise to me, that I would ask him about his love affair became stronger. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

Robin hadn’t been coming to the university for weeks, so I knew about resuming my classes. The national debate competition was just three days away from the scheduled date of its beginning, and naturally, he had been busy for that, I thought.

The university campus was buzzing with debate-related topics, and it amazed me to realize the deep concern of almost all the teachers, staff, and students, irrespective of their direct or indirect relation to debate. I felt as if it was a festival for the university.

Participation in the debate was a dream for many, but a few of them succeeded. Once I had also tried but failed. My preparation was good but I forgot my points in the middle of my presentation and left in humiliation. My neighbour helped me with the preparation of my presentation. He was a retired professor from a university in the Northeast. He had suggested I get the draft of the speech by heart, and I did as he suggested, but after the setback, the realization came to me that it was a blunder on my part. The ex-professor was not at fault; he might have suggested it, given the time constraint, which I could not understand. I should not have relied fully on my getting the presentation by heart. If I had prepared independently and chalked out the draft of my speech point-wise, the result might have been different, but the realization came to me very late. I never participated in the debate again after the humiliation.

Robin asked me several times to begin participating in the debate but I did not accept his advice because of my lost interest. I know this tendency is not good for me but my nature does not allow me to go against the commitment made to myself.

Not only Robin but Professor Ganguly had also once advised me to participate but I could not. For a few days, I tried to keep myself away from his sight in the apprehension of his reminder, but he did not advise me again.

Although I did not participate again, my interest in debate as an audience remained intact. So I was interested in the championship, where participants from universities of the entire country were coming to assemble. It was a special occasion for our university because the contestant had been selected to represent the university in the national debate championship after three years. That’s why Robin was in the news.

Finally, the day of the competition arrived. The largest conference hall in the city with a capacity of accommodating three thousand audience, was booked for the event. I had never been there before so I was amazed to witness the magnificence of the hall.

 There was an arrangement for snacks and tea on the stalls outside the hall. It was 9.30 in the morning so people had just started arriving. I looked around and searched for my colleagues, but no one was present there, from my university so I went to the stall and asked for the tea. A young boy served me the tea with a smile. I asked him, ”Your appearance is not like a person working for a canteen vendor.”

“You are right. I am a college student and volunteering because of the debate.”

“Are you interested in debate?”

“Yes. I wanted to view the event that’s why I have come here.”

“Have you ever participated in a debate competition in your college?”

“Of course. I am a winner of the junior championship organized last year in our college,” he said.

“Congratulations.”

He thanked me and became busy serving the people, who were now converting into a crowd.

I finished my tea and entered into the conference hall.

 The event began ceremonially with all its formalities and, an address by the Vice-Chancellor. The adequate light and advanced audio system gave a festive touch to the atmosphere, which I enjoyed. The address of the Vice-Chancellor did not impress me, as I had expected because of its mechanical and emotionless tone. I expected his address would motivate the participants to give their best in the competition so the audience could appreciate and enjoy it. However, it was okay as a ceremonial address. The audience was there basically to view the debate and was not very interested in the addresses given by the dignitaries.    

The conference hall was fully occupied by the students and teachers. The arguments were logical and impressive, whether speaking for the motion or against it. Undoubtedly, they had prepared for it very well. I felt that the matter of the presentation was like a foundation for the debate, whereas the eloquence, elegance, and fluency gave a complete shape to it.

I was not conscious of all these things when I participated in the debate. I concluded that I should have collected all the possible technicalities related to it before the participation. 

Ultimately the name of Robin was announced, which I was waiting for. The hall resounded with the clapping and chanting of his name. All eyes were looking for him.

His name was announced again and again from the stage, but there was no trace of him.

On Monday, when the university opened after the weekend, everyone was discussing the unexpected absence of Robin from the competition although everyone had a different story to tell. Some stories were so funny that I couldn’t restrain myself from laughing.

Aman, popular among us for his exceptional way of presenting ideas, referring to Robin’s infatuation with a particular religious sect, said to me on the condition of anonymity, “I have information from a reliable source that Robin has joined a religious group, a group that claims to be devoted to serving the humanity.”

“Do you think, his joining the group prevented him from participating in the debate?” I asked him smiling.

“No. I am trying to say something else. Before I begin the topic, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do people prefer a drink, a puff of smoke or use something like that to release their tension?”

“Scientifically speaking, alcohol and nicotine give a feeling of relief to some people from the stress temporarily.”

“Absolutely. Everyone tries to get rid of the stress. Robin did the same.”

“I can understand his worries about debate; he is enthusiastic about it. But how is religion related to it?”

It was his turn to laugh at me.

“You are unable to make out, what I am referring to. I am worried about Robin; it seems to me that he is under tremendous stress.”

“What’s the basis of your worries?”

“Well. People drink or smoke to release their tension, but when the light is gone from the life and darkness begins to consume them, people take shelter under their religious beliefs.”

“Do you think he has opted for it as a remedy?”

“Of course. So far, I know him; he is not a very religious person in general terms. His concept of religion is not different from the common masses, who believe in it but do not run after it. Therefore I have concluded that his formal joining to a religious group is an attempt on his part to get relief from his tension.”

“You may be right,” I said.

“Have you ever been a part of the gathering addressed by a Baba?

“Yes.”

“What is your experience?”

“Sometimes, it’s good?”

“Why not all the time?”

“It depends on the overall performance of the Baba.” 

“These are religious programmes, and people attend them as per their belief in the religion, but still, they have different experiences.”

“Yes. The belief in religion is different from attending a religious programme.”

“That I am also telling. Robin has not joined the religious group owing to his faith in it, but rather accepted the membership of the group as a remedy for his depression.”

“But what is the reason for his depression?

“That’s the mystery.”

“We have to wait for Robin.”

“Exactly.”

The mystery was not going to be solved till his return to the classes and revelation of the truth, we felt. Our discussion for the day was over so we went into our classroom.

 

Chapter 6

I was missing Robin. There was no confirmation of his whereabouts from anyone. The recess time was no longer fun as the canteen had been put under renovation.

It was Sunday. Our evening meeting at the coffee bar had already been discontinued; hence, I began to spend time with books. It was a great experience. Gradually, the fictional characters started coming nearer to me and became friendly. I couldn’t know when their stories began to revolve around my story. It was too late to discover, that they had been telling my own stories. The fictional and original mingled and became inseparable.

When we were out of the class due to suspension of the third period, Rohit came to me and asked me to follow him to an isolated corner of the campus.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I have an authentic news about Robin.”

“Please tell me quickly,” I was impatient.

“He didn’t turn up for the competition and preferred leaving the city out of fear as someone had threatened him to be ready for the consequences.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am serious.”

“Have you any information about the person who threatened him?”

He looked around to confirm that there was no one except us nearby and said,” I have authentic news from a reliable source, which I am sharing with you on one condition that you will keep it to yourself.”

“Keep faith in me, I will not share it with anyone.”

“Fine. I remind you once again that it is solely for your consumption.”

I assured him that confidentiality would be honoured in earnest. He whispered the name of the person, allegedly threatening Robin.

I was shocked to hear the name and looked at him in disbelief.

Earlier, Friday night had been the most relaxing for me, given two days off from the university. But since the horrible experience of commotion at midnight on Friday, the relaxed mood of the day was replaced by the unknown fear and anxiety, giving me a sleepless night.

No longer, was I waiting for Friday, which I had been doing for so many years. 

During recess, I saw Aman sitting alone in anteroom adjacent to the lecture hall occasionally used for discussion with a small group of students by the professor.

“Hello, Aman,” I said joining him.

“Hi,” he responded, welcoming me into the anteroom.

“Do you have any news about Robin besides his attachment to the religious group?”

“No. I don’t have any.”

“I didn’t see you last week in the classes.”

“My uncle has been disturbed since the recent commotion in the city. I was taking care of him under the supervision of a doctor. Now, he is better,” he said.

“I am sorry.”

“Never mind. By the way, what are your views on religion?”

“I don’t know enough about religion. To me, bringing smiles to people is religious and the feeling that someone is happy because of me is a blessing.”

“It sounds great. Do you know that as per the Encyclopedia of Wars, 123 out of 1763 wars fought in human history are religious? Many scholars disagree with it because they believe, that it must be more than that. The dictionary defines religion as ‘belief in god or gods’ and ‘worshipping them or activities connected with this belief;’ if religion is a matter of faith in spirituality, why is there so much bloodshed in the name of the religion?”

I was speechless.

He paused for a while and continued, “Religion is conveniently used as a cornerstone for conflicts, but conflicts in the name of religion have always been for social, political and economic reasons. The story of scoring such goals through religion is not coming to an end because of its powerful effect like opium on the populace.”

“I had not analyzed it the way you have put it. However, I agree with you,” I said praising him.

He smiled but didn’t say anything. We left together for the classroom.

After having dinner, I came to my room as usual. The views expressed by Aman were lurking in my mind. The old memories came alive before my eyes.

It was pure happiness to see my father fully devoted to his deity. I was about five years old. One day, I asked my father whether it would be obligatory for me to worship like him. He looked at me fondly and smiled. It had always been a pleasure seeing him closer. He was getting impatient to find out the reason for popping up such a question in my tender mind. He asked me several times, but I did not utter a single word. It was not my inability but a deliberate attempt to make him stay with me longer.

One evening, my father asked me to come into his room and said, “Worshiping in any form is a personal thing. It is directly related to faith. The religion of our parents is bestowed upon us as soon as we are born. It seems quite natural because it is an old primitive practice. It develops with our physical and mental growth like one of our organs. A negligible percentage of people in the world have felt the need to rectify it, either by adopting the religion of their choice purely based on belief or rejecting it altogether. Religions with different ways of worshipping and rituals teach us how to become better human beings. Hence, there must not be any malicious feelings between any of the two religions.” 

I found Rohit and Javed were coming out of the library and discussing something but they became silent as soon as they saw me.

“What’s the matter? Is it private and confidential?” I asked them.

“No. Everyone will be aware of the matter pretty soon,” Javed replied immediately.

Rohit added, “But right now I am not going to disclose the authentic news to anyone.”

“I understand. Sometimes it is better to leave the matter to time to deal with it,” I said.

“Nowadays, you are a bit philosophical,” Javed said and further added, “I think your thinking pattern has changed since Robin disappeared.”

I didn’t concur with his statement openly but his observation was partially correct. The sudden withdrawal of Robin from the scene had given a jolt to my weekend activities and also affected the process of thinking to some extent.

Our first internal examination of the final year was notified and we became serious about the preparation of the examination, forgetting everything going around the campus. 

Our interest in the campus activities renewed once the examination was over.

The news spread like wildfire and engulfed the entire campus in flames.

“Do you know the hot topic of the day?” Aman asked me.

I hadn’t any idea about the topic, he was referring to, so I expressed my ignorance.

“It is about Prof. Ganguly.”

“What happened to him,” I asked.

He looked at me and said, “It seems as if you are far from the campus despite your physical presence.”

“Why are you saying so?”

“Because I presume you are the only person here unaware of the news.”

“Okay. Tell me the news.”

“An enquiry has been initiated against him for his involvement in the alleged conspiracy against a student.”

“How can you say that it’s a fact? It may be a rumour,” I said.

“I am sorry. Unfortunately, it’s a fact,” Aman said sadly.

“How can you authenticate it?” I asked him as I had serious doubts about the ingenuity of the news.

“I have listened to Dr Rana, confirming the news to Miss Chatterjee,” he whispered.

“Are you keeping eyes on them?”

He did not try to hide the truth that he was secretly following them and watching their actions.

“Those were not merely the stories. They are in love .”

“Dr. Rana is married, and Miss Chatterjee has been in a relationship with him. Is it normal?”

“Have you ever fallen in love?” He asked me.

“Never,” I replied instantly.

“You can not understand the nature of love until you fall in love.”

“It seems you have already fallen in love so you are expressing your views with conviction.”

He didn’t reply directly to my question but said to me in a thoughtful mood, “Love is a feeling that can not be rationalized.”

His changed mood struck me and I became eager to know his story, “If you don’t mind, share your story with me. It will give you some relief, from the pain you are suffering with.”

He thanked me for my concern and left for the library promising that he would tell his story to me someday.

I didn’t have to wait long; on Friday afternoon after recess, when one of our classes couldn’t be engaged, Aman came to me and asked me to follow him. I followed him to the park adjacent to the administrative block of the university and sat down with him on the bench.

“What’s the matter? Why have you dragged me to the park?” I asked.

“Are you not interested in my story?”

“Of course.”

“I thought I should tell my story to you because you had shown interest in it.”

“Please tell me. I am curious.”

“I will try to create the event in words as far as possible like a movie script.”

“That will be wonderful. Go ahead like that.” I said.

His story in his own words is as follows:

“About six months ago, when I was, waiting for my order to be served on my table in the Cara Coffee Bar, I saw Miss Chatterjee entering the cafe.

All the tables were occupied. Seeing me alone, she came to me and asked, “May I sit down here?”

“Good evening. It’s my pleasure, Miss Chatterjee,” I said.

“How do you know me?” she was surprised.

“I am not in your class, but as a student of the postgraduate department, I must recognize the professors of my department.”

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Aman.”

“A nice name. Peace and tranquillity are the most important things in life.”

“Thanks. What would you like? I have already placed an order for myself.”

“Toast and coffee.”

I asked the waiter to add a toast and coffee to my earlier order.

“I joined two months ago, so I am not expecting to be recognized by many,” she said.

“But students must recognize their teachers,” I replied.

“You will also be eligible to join a university as a teacher after one or two years. Our age difference is hardly two or three years.”

“You are right but students must respect their teachers,” I said.

“This is not the university; we are in a cafe that you should understand,” she said, taking a small sip from her mug of coffee.

She paid the bill despite my protest and said that she had to leave looking at her wristwatch.

“Thank you, Miss Chatterjee, for the treat,” I said.

“This is the first and final treat to you from me because you have to pay henceforth if we see each other in the cafe in the future. One thing more, I also have a name, but you will not know it unless you ask for it.”

“Please tell me your name,” I requested.

“Laasya,” she said and left.

His story ended, and Aman paused for a long time so I looked at him, and it shocked me to see his gloomy face and wet eyes.

“Did you meet her at the cafe again?” I asked him.

“Yes. I saw her there six times, and our relationship strengthened, unexpectedly, she told me in our final meeting that she wouldn’t be able to see me further and also asked me to be careful,” he replied after some minutes, but there was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

I planned to visit the bookshop on Tuesday as the university was closed for two days given the Lord Ganesha Festival.

Seeing me going out, Mom asked me,” Where are you going? You should stay home on such an occasion.”

“Do you need my help for the celebration?”

“No. I do not need your help for any work related to the celebration but your presence at the time of worship is required.”

“When are you going to worship? Are you not worshipping in the morning nowadays?”

“You will not understand. My daily worshipping is a regular phenomenon. But today it is specially for Lord Ganesha?”

“When?”

“It’s in the evening, so postpone your programme for a day and stay home.”

“Okay, Mom. But tell me what will you ask for in your prayer to Lord Ganesha?”

“What should I ask for?”

“How can I know what is on your mind?”

“It’s simple. You can guess it easily.”

“A long and healthy life.”

“No way. What will I do with my long life?”

“Everyone wishes for it.”

“Not necessarily. Think as a son and you will know what a mother can pray for?”

I got it immediately and said,” Now I know what is on your mind.”

Mom did not ask me to tell what I had guessed because she read my mind to observe my confidence.

The next day, I left for the bookshop a little earlier than usual but reached there later than expected due to heavy traffic, which irritated me. However, my irritation vanished as soon as I stepped into the shop and found myself in the company of books.

There were hardly ten or twelve customers in the shop that day but I found it lively. I had a special liking for the shop because of the serenity of the place, irrespective of whether it was crowded or deserted. It was spacious with a facility to read books comfortably sitting in the chairs and sofas.

I don’t remember which year I visited the store for the first time. But it is in my memory that I had come to the store with Dad for the first time and I was excited to find the shelf full of comics.

Dad had asked me to select a comic book, which was not easy for me because of so many options available to me. The dilemma was not because of my tender age, but it remains in human life forever; the realization came to me when I grew up. The availability of options is nice but it makes us unstable and dissatisfied. I have experienced that when I enter into the compartment of a suburban train and find there only one seat vacant, I occupy it ‘as is where is basis’ but if there two or more seats are available, I consider many things, like a seat beside the window, the performance of the fan, rows of the seats and so on before occupying it. 

When I could not select anyone from the hundreds of comics after a considerable time, Dad came to me and asked, “May I help you with the selection?”

“No,” I said instantly without thinking over his proposal for a second.

Perhaps Dad had not expected such a reply, from me, so he looked at me differently. His look alerted me, and I repented for my reply because I was afraid that he might have construed my spontaneous response as rude and offensive.

“Dad, I want to select the book myself that’s why I am not accepting your assistance in the selection.”

“That’s good. I appreciate it, but hurry up as we have to leave for home within half an hour,” Dad said and sat down on the sofa placed in the corner.

I came with my selected book and showed it to Dad. He was pleased that I selected the comics within the time he had allotted to me.

As per my old habits, I checked the arrival of new books first and then went to the classics. The classics are invaluable and permanent sources of wisdom and knowledge, but sometimes, a real surprise comes from a new book when it thrills us beyond our expectations; and, probably the idiom that a book should not be judged by its cover might have been coined by someone who had the similar opinion about the occasional thrills from a new book.

Under this impression of logic, I always start my journey of books in the bookshop from the shelf of new arrivals.

That day, there was no surprise for me from a book authored by an unknown writer and displayed on the shelf of the store, but I was not disappointed because of my belief that on my next visit on some special day, I would be charmed by the brilliance of a new book.

Suddenly, the name of the German novelist Günter Grass came to my mind, who had been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, in consideration of his giving Germany, “a new beginning after decades of linguistic and moral decay.”

The words used in the appreciation seemed to me alluring. How lucky an author was he to have the credit of giving a fresh start to his country, which had suffered from linguistic and moral decay for decades?

I searched the shelves for Grass’s books but couldn’t find any, so I asked the girl on the counter for the book. She checked on the system and said to me, “Sorry, these are sold out. However we have ordered the books, but they are yet to be delivered to us by the publisher.”

“When is it expected?” 

“Within the fortnight.”

I thanked her and came back to the shelf of classics. Chamber Music by James Joyce caught my eye. While going through A Portrait of The Artist As A Young Man and Ulysses, I felt the undercurrent of poetry in his novels. At that time, I wasn’t aware of his poems. Later I read Dubliners.

Joyce was a genius who couldn’t be shortlisted for the Nobel; is it not a classic surprise?

I came out of the shop with Chamber Music and found the city bathed in the neon lights. The celebration was going on and it appeared to me, as if the entire City was on the street. It was difficult for the vehicle to move on the road.

There was no option for me, except to wait for the crowd to be dispersed so that I could avail of public transport to reach home. The unbearable noise of the environment coming from the high-pitched speakers was disturbing making it impossible for me to wait for the taxi standing by the side of the road, so I went inside a small restaurant, but all the chairs were preoccupied. I joined a small group of customers waiting in a corner for the seats to be vacated. Anyhow, it was far better than the outside crowd and noise, which had given me a severe headache.

After a wait for almost forty-five minutes, I got a seat. While settling myself comfortably in the chair, I saw Sudhir coming to my table.

“Hi, Harish,” he called me and sat down in the chair in front of me.

“Hi,” I reciprocated.

“What’s a pleasant surprise? I believe we are seeing each other for the first time outside the campus.”    

“Yes. You are right.”

“We should celebrate it.”

“Of course.”

“Let me give a treat to you on the occasion.”

“It’s so nice of you,” I said.

He asked the waiter to come to our table and order the sandwiches and coffee.

“This restaurant is famous for its varieties of sandwiches.”

“I have come here for the first time so I am not aware of it,” I said.

“Don’t worry your guide is here before you,” he said and laughed.

“I was of the view that you were interested in juicy stories only but I see you keep an eye on the tasty dishes as well.”

“I will not object to your comment, but I must argue that both are juicy, so these are not out of my area of interest.”

“I am sorry if you did not like my utterance.”

“Never mind. Your perception of me is not different from that of my other colleagues. I have been labelled with because I admit it, whereas others enjoy the same way I enjoy, but they do not show it.”

I was feeling bad for my statement. So I became silent and tried to concentrate on my sandwiches to overcome the feeling.

He read my mind and asked me, “Do not feel embarrassed for the observation you made about me. I will be happy if you enjoy your dishes wholeheartedly forgetting everything.”

“I am okay,” I said keeping the used plate aside after having the final bite of the sandwich.

“Good. Give me your honest feedback on the sandwiches.”

“It was nice.”

“Are you telling it to make me happy or did you like it?”

“I gave you my honest feedback as you had asked me.”

“I am honoured.”

“I am a regular visitor to this restaurant but how did you come here?”

“I had come to the bookshop.”

“Do you visit the shop regularly?”

“No. Off and on I visit the shop. I was waiting for the taxi but couldn’t get it due to the heavy traffic so I thought to pass some time here till it is normalised and taxi starts plying on the road.”

“Where have you to go?”

“My house is on Mayo Road.”

“Don’t worry. I have come with my uncle in his car. He will drop you there.”

“You need not trouble your uncle; I will get a taxi,” I said.

He didn’t listen to me and I had to accept his proposal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8

Since the sudden disappearance of Robin from the university, my Sunday evening programme was paralyzed, and I had confined myself to the room. I was uncomfortable initially, but time taught me how to overcome my boredom. The books rescued me from boredom and stole my loneliness as an old and trusted friend.

There was also a new development in me that I had not recognized earlier. I felt as if someone was asking me to write my feelings about my voluntary confinement to the room on Sunday evenings.

I began to express myself on paper through written words. It was not easy. I had to tear off many drafts before it gave me a feeling of satisfaction. It had no literary value that I was fully aware of, but it would be able to bring peace of mind for me that I was confident. I jotted down whatever came into my mind. It was unplanned and raw but full of life, spontaneous and unaffected.

It became a habit for me to write something every Sunday evening. But while reading my writings carefully, I found that whenever I wrote effortlessly, it was convincing and effective, bubbling with genuine feelings and emotions. It had a natural appeal that I could not create in my conscious writings.

The artificiality and soullessness were easily visible in the pieces of my writings that had been written for the sake of writing. I stopped writing anything under compulsion because it was not capable of giving me solace for which I had started writing.

I destroyed all such pieces of my writings that were not contributing to my peace of mind although I was ashamed of my selfishness. A second thought came to my mind, and I repented, but it was too late to amend.

One vital thing came to my notice that disturbed me a little. My unsystematic approach was interrupting me in my writing and it had been giving me sleepless nights. I collected and arranged all the written sheets of paper scattered on my table and put them in a folder. It was my first childish attempt towards systematization of my work.

The finalization of the writing schedule was the most difficult part. I tried for it but failed. I opted for the flexibility in the timings for writing and I was happy with it. It made me self-dependent, and I learned to live in isolation. There was no more need to go out on Sunday evenings.

One Sunday evening Mom came to my room and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Why are you asking me such a question?” I inquired.

“I have been observing for some days that you are not as cheerful as you used to be.”

“I am all right.”

“Then why do you keep yourself confined to your room and not going out on Sunday evenings?”

“Now I got it. My friend, Robin, with whom I used to go for evening fun has been absent from the university, so my evening engagement is discontinued,” I said.

“Have you no other friend?”

“Of course, I have, but my bond with them is not so strong.”

“It’s fine. But have you ever tried to come closer to them? I am sure you can continue your evening outing with any of them.”

“I will try,” I said faintly.

Mom left the room and I observed that she wasn’t satisfied with my explanation.

I had many colleagues on campus, and we were also close to each other, but my bond with Robin was exceptional. Perhaps, it was his quality of paying respect to other’s views that had caught my attention as soon as we became acquainted with each other. On many occasions, I found him accepting the views of others despite his contrary opinion.

It was beyond my imagination, so I asked him, “How do you accept the views of others which you do not believe in?”

“This attitude of mine is one of the sources from where I derive pleasure?”

“How does it bring pleasure for you?”

“The happiness of the person whose views I accept unconditionally brings joy for me.”

“Does not it come in the way of your conscience?”

“Never. It does not come under the purview of the conscience but there is a scope if I make colleagues sad by my selfishness of giving priority to my views.”

Since that day, we have become close friends.

Gradually I knew that he was the only person among us who was a regular visitor of libraries. In showing my interest, he revealed that he had a membership for five libraries and they have a reputation all over the country.

“What kinds of books do you like?” I had asked him.

“Having membership for five different libraries does not make me a voracious reader. I need references for my debates on various topics, so I am a member of more than one library.”

“It helps you in your preparation?”

“Undoubtedly, it helps me, but I have to give considerable time for its modification and refinement according to my needs and convenience.”

“How do you manage your time for such activities whereas our courses are not completed despite devoting much of our time to it?”

“I do not have any idea about time management but I can say with conviction that you will get time for your passion irrespective of your being extremely busy or idle.”

The Sunday was sizzling under hot weather and I wasn’t feeling comfortable in the room. I hadn’t been to the garden, a few yards away from my house, for a long time, so I planned to spend the evening there to take respite from the uneasiness of humidity and also refresh my mood.

Mom was busy in the kitchen. How did she manage so many things at times irrespective of weather conditions? It was a mystery for me. On very few occasions, I had found her taking a long break from her daily chores.

It doesn’t mean that I hadn’t asked her to shed some light on the mystery, but whenever I asked, she always preferred a smile to words for the answer which I couldn’t decipher despite my best efforts, and for the first time I realized that a word might be boastful of its more than one meanings, whereas a smile is pacific at all times despite having infinite meanings.

Mom smiled and nodded in agreement when I told her about my going to the garden for an evening walk.

My inclination towards going out in the evening was not strong despite my planning to go to the garden, and it quickly confirmed to me when the laziness prompted me to defer it for some other day, but the provocation of my lethargy was weaker than the worried look of Mom I had witnessed while she was asking for the reason of the discontinuation of my evening outing.

After that, there was no room for any change in the planning. I came out of the house and marched towards the garden.

Consciously, I picked out the deserted bench in the farthest corner of the plot, waiting for someone to take a rest; it was an attempt on my part to secure a place of peace, a place that could give me access to enjoy the evening without being disturbed by anything and anybody.

Sitting on the bench, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Robin’s feelings that had welled up in his heart while leaving the city, in apprehension of consequences.

Why do the good and innocent suffer without committing anything wrong? It’s not a new question; even in the Old Testament, Job asks the same question to the Almighty. But the answer given by Him appears to me more confusing than solving the problem because I am not comfortable accepting the insignificance of humans in comparison to the greatness of the universe as this very comparison is invalid in my eyes.

In my personal opinion as a common man, the sufferings of an innocent are multiplied by the degree of his innocence and purity. It’s painful to accept but true.

Feeling sick with apprehension, I opened my eyes with fear, looked around and suddenly realized what a fool I was to keep myself aloof from the surroundings, securing a lonely corner and barricading myself from pure peace and tranquillity.

My worries began fading as soon as I attached myself to the delightful evening amid the children shrieking in excitement; the chirping of birds in the trees tuning with the soft rustling sound made by the naughty evening breeze in the course of passing through and teasing tender leaves; the crescent moon radiating happiness to stars appearing to twinkle in the night sky one by one with the identical pace of the evening creeping towards the night. 

Mom looked at me attentively while opening the door for me, and there was a glint in her eyes. 

 

 

Chapter 9

The resignation of Prof. Ganguly was the trending topic of the day. Naturally, everyone in the university had immense interest in the incident.

We were looking forward to the recess, to have more details on the topic. It seemed to us, that day that our professors were unnecessarily lecturing and detaining us for more than usual days. Although, they were engaging our classes strictly according to the schedule.

We came out of our classes and spotted Rohit excitedly giving the details of the happening, in his usual style, “I always bring authentic and latest news for you guys. Prof. Ganguly has tendered his resignation.

Aman was curious about the details, “But why? I have heard that the enquiry is still in the middle way.”

Rohit was pleased with the query, “Exactly. Your information is perfect.”

Before adding anything further to the details, he turned to Javed, and asked him, “Do you think that there was no option left for Prof. Ganguly except tendering his resignation?”

“There was no need for his resignation because the enquiry is still going on, and it will take much time for its conclusion as the history of such kinds of enquiry suggests. Secondly, no one can say what will be the verdict, and finally, even if the verdict goes against him, he has an opportunity for appeals.”

Everyone in the small gathering listening to him seconded his logic.

“Excellent. But do you think Prof. Ganguly is unknown to all these factors?” Rohit asked in a challenging tone.

Javed replied smiling, “Only a fool can think that Prof. Ganguly is unknown to the facts.”

“Okay. Agree. Now I come to the authentic news about the reason for his resignation.”

We came closer to him as none of us was going to take the risk of losing the information.”

“Prof. Ganguly refused to attend the enquiry proceeding and tendered his resignation in protest of dragging his name into the controversy. He has written in his resignation letter that he is shocked by the erroneous allegations and opting for his resignation rather than appearing before the committee enquiring into a baseless and false allegation.”

Indeed, humans can’t claim to know about everything. There is a process of the laws that goes in its way. But when an innocent person is destined to bear the brunt of the process, the process becomes punishment.

I was afraid of thinking about the mental agony of Prof. Ganguly in case he had been unnecessarily dragged into the controversy as he claimed in his letter.

Sometimes, I feel that the problem of our time is not dishonesty but the death of faith in other’s honesty.

The sound of the bell was coming out from the nearby church, and I wished it may restore our faith in humanity and the goodness of mankind.

The class was to begin after recess, but my mind was so engrossed in the affairs of Prof. Ganguly that I couldn’t come out from my reverie until Aman called me twice to join the classroom.

“Where are you?” Aman asked me sarcastically.

“I am very much here but my mind has gone too far for grazing.”

Aman laughed heartily and I joined him in his laughter. 

One Saturday evening, while reading a book, suddenly, it came to my mind that I should make some efforts to locate Robin because the mystery of his absence had been deepening day by day. Whether Prof. Ganguly was responsible for his leaving the city or not would be confirmed if I could succeed in seeing him.

I noted down all the events in chronological order and tried to find the missing link.

1. Our last meeting was on Friday when he informed me that he would not be able to join me on Sunday evenings.

2. I was of the view, that he would devote his time to the preparation of the debate, but he said to me that he had some other urgent business to attend.

3. He didn’t tell me what business was so urgent for him to attend.

4. We waited for him in the conference hall, but he didn’t attend the competition.

5. Aman informed me that he had joined a religious group.

6. Rohit whispered furtively that Prof. Ganguly was the culprit who had threatened him to face the consequences of participating in the national debate championship.

It was my wish to put questions to Prof. Ganguly who had denied his involvement in the matter, but I couldn’t dare.

I was aware of the fact that the letters sent to Robin as well as to his guardian by the enquiry committee and the university returned with a remark that the addressee had left the place.

The committee had also tried to find out his recent address through a messenger, who confirmed after the inquiry from the locality and owner of the house Robin was residing on rent that they were unaware of his whereabouts.

As there was no complaint received from anyone, against the disappearance of him, the university didn’t feel the need to lodge an FIR with the police.

After taking all the significant events related to the issue under consideration, I concluded that the only option available to me was the meeting with Aman on Monday. I had a feeling, that he might have information about the religious group Robin was attached to.

How far the information from Aman would be helpful to me? That was a question and it kept me occupied for Sunday.

I was afraid of the uncertainty. What would be my next step in case Aman didn’t have any information or because, for any reason, he was unwilling to share the information available with him?

Although I had no contingency plan to meet my goal, I was hopeful that help would come to me from somewhere or in some way.

Seeing me ready much before the schedule, Mom asked me the reason for my leaving, for the university earlier than usual. I assured her that there was nothing to be worried about.

I was waiting for Aman impatiently but to my disappointment, he didn’t come to the university.

It often happens to me whenever I am in a hurry to get something; it takes its own time as a hint to me that the time hasn’t come for that, and I humbly accept it as heavenly advice.

Aman skipped classes for the entire week. When he resumed his classes the next Monday, I rushed to him and said, “I have been waiting for you.”

“Why? Is something serious?” he asked me.

“Do you remember you had told me about Robin’s joining a religious group?”

“Yes.”

“Can you give me the address of the office or ashram of the group where Robin joined?

“Sorry, I don’t have the address. I had just heard about his joining the group.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

I was sad to hear the answer to my question but I hadn’t lost the hope.

“Please try to get information from your sources.”

“Sure. I will try my best, and share with you any such information as soon as I get from them.”

I thanked him and moved towards the classroom together. 

The next morning, I saw Aman coming out of the stationery shop on the campus. Seeing me standing under the shade of a tree near the shop, he joined me and said, “What are you doing here standing alone under the tree?”

“I saw you in a hurry after the second period of the classes so I did not call you.”

“I needed some photocopies of the materials related to my project.”

“It’s fine. Can you tell me what project you are doing? In our class, no new project has been assigned to us.”

“It has nothing to do with our university courses. I am on a purely personal project.”

“All right. If it is so, I will not ask you about the project.”

“Please don’t feel offended. I have told you that it is personal but never negated you from asking me about the project.”

He was right. The etiquette, in general, had no place among friends.

Rescuing me from my awkwardness, he said,” You are my friend and our friendship entitles you to ask me about my activities unless I request you to pardon me from sharing it.”

I apologized.

“Don’t behave like a fool. Does a friend need to apologize to a friend?” However, I can not share the gist of the project with you right now, but I assure you that by the day after tomorrow, I will come to you with the details,” he said and went back to the shop as he was not done with his photocopying needs.

While I was on the way to the university, the promise of Aman came into my mind. He had not been attending the university for the last two days.

I was not expecting him this week but he came to the department. He was late so he quickly entered the classroom through the rear door and sat down in the last row of the class. The professor was writing on the whiteboard so he couldn’t notice him.

During recess, I saw him talking to Satish in the corridor of the laboratory of the department so I didn’t disturb him. The classes were to start after recess but their discussion didn’t come to an end.

I came back to my seat in the classroom and tried to forget about the assurance given to me by Aman about his project. Perhaps owing to some reasons, he couldn’t have completed his project, I thought.

But my prediction about him was wrong. At the close of department hours, he came to me, handed over a file and said, “Don’t open it here. You may go through it comfortably at your house.”

“As you wish, but when I am required to return it to you?”

“There’s no need of of it. It’s for you.”

“What do I do with your file? I was curious about your private project. That’s all. How can I usurp your project file?”

“You are not usurping. I am giving it to you. It’s my project but you will find it useful. I will not tell you much about it because you are going through it tonight at your house.”

I thanked him and moved to the main gate. 

After having dinner, I went straight to my room as I was curious about the contents of the file. I opened it. It was a surprise for me.

The title of the file was ‘Robin, My Friend’. The gist of the contents is as follows:

Robin, nickname Brandy was born in Goa on 8th September in a lower-middle-class family. His father was a lawyer. Her mother died as soon as he was born whereas his father left him for abode when he was ten years old. She was his aunt who nurtured him.

It was a bulky file with a hundred and sixty-eight documents. Most of the photocopies of his photographs in the file were from his childhood. I saw all of them. His credentials impressed me. He had never told me that he was a CBSE topper. It was evident from the credentials that he was a bright student and had been interested in debate since his school days.

Two of his recent photographs were of interest.

In one of them, he was with a girl under an umbrella. I could not recognize the girl as the photograph was hazy.

In the second, he was standing in front of an ashram in saffron attire.

There was no information about his whereabouts in the file.

I closed the file and went to the bed.

 

Chapter 10

The next day, I went to the university library to return the book. I had to pay a fine to keep the book with me for more than ten days.

When coming out of the library, I saw Aman at the entrance.

“Hi.”

“Hi. I have news for you.”

“Please tell me.” 

“Do you remember?” Aman said,’ You had asked me for the address of the group Robin might have gotten involved with.”  

I straightened up, my interest piqued. “Yeah? Did you find out anything?” 

Aman hesitated, as if unsure of how to proceed. “I have been asking around, and I think I might know.” 

My heart skipped a beat. “Where?”

“There is a place in the northern part of the city,” Aman said quietly. “It’s not exactly a religious group; it’s more like a meditation centre. They promise peace, a way to escape, from the stress of life.” 

“Escape?” I echoed, the word tasting bitter in my mouth.” 

“I know,” Aman agreed. “But if he was under a lot of pressure… maybe he felt like he needed to get away.” 

I sat back, trying to process what Aman was saying. Could Robin have left everything behind to find some peace?  

“Where is this place exactly?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt. 

Aman gave me the address, scribbling it down on a small piece of paper.

“I have not been there myself, but a friend of mine went once. It is pretty secluded, and they do not advertise it. People only go, if they are invited.”

“Invited?” 

Aman shrugged. “I am not sure. But if Robin is there, maybe he was invited by someone.” 

The thought of Robin being somewhere so secretive sent a chill down my spine. But it also gave me a glimmer of hope—if I could find this place, maybe I could get him.   

I skipped classes and set out for the address Aman had given me. After so many refusals, a taxi driver agreed to go to the address, a place I had never been before. As he navigated the unfamiliar roads, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was heading into something I wasn’t fully prepared for. But I had to do this. I had to know what had happened to Robin. 

When I finally arrived, it was a large, nondescript building, tucked away behind tall trees. There were no signs, no indication that this place was anything other than a private residence. It looked normal enough, but something about it felt off; as if something different. 

I hesitated at the gate, unsure of what to do next. Should I walk in? Should I knock? What if they didn’t let me in? 

Before I could decide, the gate creaked open, and a man stepped out. He was dressed in plain clothes, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made me uneasy. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice calm but with an edge of suspicion. 

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, trying to keep myself steady. “My friend… Robin Rey. He’s been missing for a while, and I heard he might be here.” 

The man’s expression didn’t change. “We don’t give out information about our guests,” he said carefully. “If your friend is here, it’s because he chose to be.” 

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to argue. “I just want to know if he’s okay.” 

The man regarded me for a long moment as if weighing his options. Finally, he nodded and asked me to wait. 

He disappeared behind the gate, leaving me standing there, feeling more nervous with each passing second. The minutes dragged on, and I started to wonder if he was ever coming back. 

Then, the gate opened again, and a different man stepped out. He was older, with sharp eyes that seemed to see through me. 

“Please wait. Robin is coming,” he said flatly, his voice leaving no room for doubt.” 

I was anxious to see him. Someone was coming slowly towards me. 

He came to me and asked, “Why are you asking for me? I don’t know you.” 

I had not gone there to see him. He was not Robin but a stranger. 

The older man stared at me,” You were telling me Robin is your friend, but he does not know you?” 

“Sorry. This is not the person, I was looking for.” 

I thanked them and left the place immediately. 

When I got home, I went straight to my room, not bothering to tell Mom where I had been. I sat on my bed, staring at that piece of paper with the address written on it. 

I tore it up and threw it away. 

 

 

Chapter 11

On Friday evening, I decided to visit the bookshop the next day to see whether Grass’s books had arrived at the shop or not.

I reached the shop in the afternoon and was happy to note that it was full of book lovers. Young readers were hopping from one shelf to another excitingly. Some of them were flipping through the pages of the books of their interest.

The revived interest of the people in the mythological stories was evident to me when I observed a good gathering at the stall reserved for mythological titles. It came to my mind that television had some role in it because mythological episodes were preferred in those days.

I inquired about the supposed arrival of Green’s books. The person sitting behind the desk was new and not very professional. He didn’t bother to listen to me properly and replied, “You may check yourself from the shelves where all the available books are properly displayed.”

After saying so in a mechanical tone, he opened a ledger and engrossed himself in it. He was making as if determined to manifest busy to avoid further inquiry for the books. Initially, it was unpleasant. But later, I realized that he was trying to overcome his nervousness.

A few people openly show and admit their nervousness coming out of inexperience or inability to deal with the situations, but most of them make all efforts to hide it from the sight of the world. However, they seldom succeed in their efforts.

The realization made me wiser and taught me to sympathize with the young chap sitting behind the desk pretending to be occupied with his work.

“Thank you for attending to my query,” I said smiling.

He kept the ledger aside, looked at me keenly, and said, “Sorry, I am not familiar with the system yet so I asked you to help yourself.”

“Okay. It happens to everyone,” I said and moved towards the bookshelves.

Under the section on new arrivals, Harry Potter was on the citadel. I felt as if other books were envious of Potter to see its immense popularity. It was advertised in such a clever way that the readers were forced to feel guilty of some heinous crime in case, they had not read the book.

The book authored by Günter Grass was not there. However, I saw Amsterdam by Ian McEwan, a book, that was selected for Booker Prize in 1998.

Luckily I got a chair in the corner just vacated by a young man. I went through some of the pages and found it interesting. But Green was still lurking in my mind.

Now, the shop was not as crowded as I found it a few hours ago. I was also about to leave, but at the last moment, I decided to have a look at the shelves once again before leaving the shop.

My eyes caught a girl engrossed in reading a book sitting in a chair beside the section of novels and stories. Her face was hidden behind the book. The title of the book she was reading surprised me. How was it possible that I couldn’t find the book despite a thorough search?

I have always felt that the aesthetic sense of a female can’t be compared to a male, but that day, I realized that a female was not superior only in the aesthetic sense but also in the art of searching.

There was one chair vacant nearby, and I settled in there and began reading Amsterdam, which was already in my hands, but I couldn’t concentrate on it because of my different goal. I had been waiting for her to keep the book on the shelf as I didn’t want to ask her anything about the book.

She was flowing in the current of powerful tides of emotions of the characters in the novel, unaware of my eyes fixed on her.

Her absorption in the book impressed me a lot and I began to feel closeness to her. There was no doubt about her being a serious reader. She was going through a book that had not been considered an easy read due to its provincial setting and German dialect, that I had heard about. It might be possible that she had been looking for the book after viewing the film adapted from the novel.

I imagined so many things about her during the hours I was there looking at her from a close range. My imaginative faculty had activated in such a way, that my fancies began appearing alive before my eyes and when I came out of imagination, she was gone.

Cursing to my foolishness, I went to the cash counter and paid for Amsterdam after failing to find the book on the shelf, the girl was reading.

Suddenly I heard someone calling me from behind so I looked back to confirm whether it was real or I was imagining.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The girl having The Tin Drum in her hands was standing behind me. She was no other than the girl I had met with on a rainy day in the university.

“Do you recognize me, Harish?” She asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“I observed that you were eyeing me for hours in the shop. Is it proper for a gentleman like you?”

It shocked me when I came to know that she was not unaware of my actions in the shop.

“I sincerely apologize for my conduct, ” I said averting my eyes.

She gave a hearty laugh and said, ” There is no need for it, and don’t take it seriously. I was joking.”

I took some time to normalize myself. Suddenly, I realized that I had missed a significant event to mention in the list of events related to Robin. The missing link was there in front of me.

“May I ask you something about Robin?” I begged.

She replied after taking some moments, “It’s not the right place to discuss.”

I was listening to her without saying a word.

She handed over The Tin Drum to me and said, “Your interest in the book has been revealed to me by your actions in the shop. Please accept it.”

Taking note of my hesitation, she added with a beautiful smile, “I gift you the book as my acceptance of your apology.”

I thanked her for the book.

“If you want to have information about Robin, come to the Cara Coffee Bar tomorrow evening,” She asked giving me a pleasant surprise.

“What’s your name? ” I asked her. She didn’t listen to me and mingled with the crush of the procession. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

I couldn’t sleep in anticipation of the meeting with that girl. The time was running at a snail’s speed, I felt; so I checked my watch to confirm whether it was functioning properly or not. It was perfectly all right.

My golden wristwatch was old but I didn’t replace it with a new one despite Dad’s insistence. Dad had given it to me when I was in primary school.

One day, when Dad was going out for some work, I suddenly felt the need for his watch and asked for it. He said he would buy a new one for me, but I insisted on that, and he agreed. He gave me his watch and went to his work. After a moment, I realized that I should have asked for it on his arrival from the job he was going to attend and came out of the home to return the watch to him, but he had already gone. I imagined the inconvenience of Dad in the absence of his watch, and the imagination troubled me the entire day until Dad came home because I was shamefaced with the guilt of the disruption in his normal activities.

I ran to him as soon as he came home and handed over the watch to him.

“What’s the matter? Is it not working?” he asked me.

“It is working very well. But I should not have troubled you. I am sorry.” I said and my eyes welled up.

He could not understand but came to me and wiped my eyes with his hanky. Meanwhile, Mom emerged from her room.

Dad asked Mom, “Do you know why Harish is so upset?”

Mom was surprised and worried to see tears in my eyes.

“Are you suffering from the toothache?” she asked me.

“No.”

“Then why are you crying?

“It pained me to realize that I might have caused an inconvenience to Dad by asking for his watch while he was going out,” I said.

Mom and Dad embraced me together.

Dad wanted to give me his watch instantly but I accepted it only when he bought a new watch for himself.

The watch has been inseparable ever since. 

The distance between my house and the Cara Coffee Bar was hardly a 30-minute walk, but I couldn’t wait for the evening and left home in the afternoon despite my consciousness that she would never come so early to the bar. When I was close to the bar, I felt I should not go there before six o’clock, so I went to a recently opened nearby department store to hang out. 

I observed that, like me, others were also hanging out there. The customers were busy with the selection and purchasing of the goods according to their needs. Some of them were meticulously planned for their purchase whereas others had been satisfied with their casual approach. I realized there was an obvious difference in the purchasing attitude between a singleton and a couple or a family. Often a single person is an impulsive buyer, whereas a couple maintains a balance between need-based and impulsive shopping. I observed it when I was hanging out in the store.

While I was near the gift corner of the store, suddenly it struck me that I should give a return gift to the girl I was going to see in the evening. It was an exciting idea, but I decided it after much hesitation. What present would be proper to be given to her?

That was the question I had been struggling with. There were varieties of products displayed on the shelves of the gift corner in the store, but despite my best efforts, I couldn’t select an item.

Meanwhile, I saw a girl in the process of selecting a gift item and it gave me a concept that I could buy the item of her choice. I waited for her decision and my waiting didn’t go in vain. She took her time and selected a packet of colourful and eye-catching hankies.

I bought the identical packet of hankies and came to the counter and requested the girl on the counter to arrange for its wrapping.

“Are you charging extra for packing, the gift item?”

She smiled and replied, “No. But this benefit is available for this month only.”

“Why not for all the time?”

“Normally, we charge extra, but we are celebrating the month as business promotion month on the occasion of the anniversary of this store.”

“I was of the view that the store is new.”

“We are celebrating the first anniversary of our store,” she informed me.

My gift pack was ready. She attached a gift tag to it and asked me, “May I ask you the name, to whom you are intended to give this gift?”

I saw a pen in her hand and understood immediately why she was asking for the name.

I was at a loss because I had not predicted such a situation.

I was not aware of her name, but I had to say something, so I thought for a moment and said to her, “An Unnamed Girl.”

She couldn’t understand so she gave me a piece of paper and said to write on it which I obliged. She read it in disbelief but didn’t ask me further about it.

When she handed over the packet to me I saw the tag and thanked her for writing on it in calligraphy. There wasn’t any doubt about it, that she had proficiency in calligraphy.

When I entered the coffee bar, a few customers were there, and fortunately, my favourite table was not occupied.

I looked around to confirm whether she had been there or not. She was not there and I had to wait for her so I ordered a cup of coffee for me. I had been sipping on the coffee but my attention was at the entrance of the hall of the bar.

I had been waiting for her for the last three hours but there was no trace of her.

Suddenly an announcement was made for me, “If Mr. Harish is present in the hall, please come to the counter.”

The man on the counter gave me a note, that was addressed to me, “Sorry, Harish. I am going out of the city all of a sudden so I can’t see you today.

I see you next time at the same venue someday, which I am hopeful of.

Have a nice day.”

There was no name or date on the note.

I asked the person behind the counter, “Who brought this note to you?”

“I didn’t ask the name?”

“A girl or boy?”

He thought for a while and replied, “A boy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, ” he said and engaged himself in some work. It was a clear indication that our discussion ended.

I came home disappointed and tired.

“Was it a nice day for me?” I asked myself.

Chapter 13

Two periods of our afternoon classes were suspended due to unavoidable reasons as per the notice, displayed on the notice board.

Rohit and Javed were in the recreation room. They were sitting idle on a bench.

I went to them and asked, “Why are you sitting idle? Is there a scarcity of news nowadays?”

Javed invited me to sit on the bench with them and said, “Rohit is thinking over a significant issue.”

“What’s the issue?

“The scope of unavoidable reasons is the relevant issue of today.”

“Are you worried about the suspension of two periods of our classes?”

“Have you ever seen me worried about these trivial matters?”

“No,” I replied without hesitation.

“I was thinking about situations that can be qualified for unavoidable reasons.”

“You are telling it in such a way as if you are going to write your thesis on the subject.”

Rohit who was patiently listening to us without intervention and remarks so far, said, “Javed is expressing his views so candidly on the issue because of the authentic news that our professors had gone to attend a marriage ceremony which has been considered as unavoidable reason by the university resulting in suspension of two periods of our classes.”

“There is the provision of leave, and they had gone to carry their social responsibility after availing leave; what’s wrong with it?”

“I am not against either the provision of leave or attending their social responsibility, I am against the carelessness of the university for not having a contingency plan to avoid unnecessary suspension of classes,” Javed replied.

“Agree. But we are also responsible for interrupting the regular classes with our collective decision to shirk classes off and on,” I said.

“This is the problem with you. We were preparing ourselves to perform the postmortem on ‘unavoidable circumstances’ academically, but you stole our surgical knives,” Javed replied, smiling.

“I didn’t snatch your knives but just reminded you that your knives are not sharp enough to perform the postmortem,” I said.

Rohit intervened and asked, “If the academic discussion between learned persons is over, I may be allowed to amaze you with authentic news.”

We laughed at his style and focused our attention on him.

“I was in a movie theatre yesterday to view a particular movie which I had been waiting for months but that was not screened because it couldn’t be delivered to the theatre owing to some dispute between the producers and distributors…”

Javed cut in, “A movie that was supposed to be screened couldn’t be because of a dispute, ruined your day. Is this a breaking news?”

“If you interrupt me, how will I be able to give you the authentic news?”

“My God, I forgot that it was the introduction to the news before getting it to be revealed to us.”

Rohit was unfazed, “Don’t forget again and again and include bearing with my introduction to your habit.”

“Okay. Now give us the news the way you like.”

In an instant, Rohit became serious and stood up. We saw him in astonishment and followed him as soon as he asked for it. We came out of the recreation room and followed him to the playground, which was deserted during the midday. He didn’t say a word walking between the recreation room and the playground. When I looked at him closely his fearful face seemed to me expressing a blend of worries and fear in equal proportions.

His changed expression was not hidden from the sight of Javed as well, “I am extremely sorry for my impromptu reaction to your introduction. It seems to me that my words have pained you,” he said to Rohit.

“Don’t blame yourself for my worries. Both of you are my trustworthy friends, and I am grateful to you for keeping the secrets confined to yourselves whenever I have asked for them.”

We were patiently listening to him.

He continued, “I have to admit that I am scared. I can’t tell you the reason for this right now inside the campus so I request you to come to my flat tomorrow morning without fail.”

Before listening to me asking for his address, Rohit left in a hurry.

Javed asked me, ” Don’t worry about the address, I have been to his flat earlier. If you accept his invitation, come tomorrow at sharp ten in the morning to the tea stall near the main gate of the university, you will find me there waiting for you.”

I was not in the mood to go outside on a Saturday morning, but the fearful face of Rohit, my friend flashed in my memory, and I prepared myself to leave for the university where Javed was supposed to be waiting for me.

Mom was surprised to see me going out on Saturday, “Where are you going on a Saturday morning?”

“I am going to see my friend at his house.”

“Has Robin come back to the university?”

“No. He is my other friend to whom I am going to see.”

“Good. I am glad that you are extending the area of your acquaintance. Take care and return before lunch,” Mom said happily allowing me to go out.

Javed was there as he had promised.

“Hi, I appreciate your punctuality.”

“Thanks. I am impressed with your commitment,” I replied.

“I don’t think that Rohit will appreciate if we spend the Saturday morning in such formalities reviving the much-talked etiquette of Nawab of Lucknow.”

“You are right. We should leave for his residence.” I said laughing.

Sunrise Enclave was in a posh colony having hundreds of flats in its multi-storey apartment. Rohit’s flat was on the fifth floor. He opened the door for us almost immediately after I pressed the doorbell. He welcomed us with enthusiasm but his worried look was disturbing.

“My parents are out of the city and the maid is on leave. I am alone in the flat so we can discuss this freely. But before we initiate, come to the dining room and do justice with the dishes, keeping in mind, that excuses are not allowed under any circumstances.”

 

After having a sumptuous breakfast, we settled ourselves on the sofas in the living room.

“I am confident that you will keep the information with you, but still, I request you not to share it with anyone, the information which I have not shared even with my parents till now.”

We assured him that his confidence in us would remain intact.

“The movie which I had gone to view was replaced with a Hollywood romantic movie. The majority of dialogue in a Hollywood movie goes over my head as I am not familiar with the way the actors pronounce it. But you know, the visuals of such films are more attractive to a person like us due to their boldness so I bought the ticket and entered the hall.”

He paused and looked at us for our views on his observation.

Javed nodded in agreement with his observation.

“I also agree with you and appreciate your courage to accept it so honestly,” I said.

“My seat was in the middle of the third row. The movie started, and the eyes of the viewers were glued to the screen. My discomfort was getting intensified along with the progress of the movie because the sound of whistles and indecent remarks began coming from every corner of the hall for lovemaking scenes which were in abundance in it.”

“Are you worried about the complaint that can be made against you to your parents for viewing an adult movie?”

Javed asked.

“No. I am not worried about this because I know, that Dad would laugh to listen to the complaint. You will shortly know the reason for my worries,” Rohit replied.

“Please continue,” I said.

“Despite my discomfort with the whistles and remarks, I enjoyed the movie. My trouble kicked off after an interval. When coming back into the hall, I saw Miss Chatterjee sitting next to me and Dr Rana next to her. I decided to leave the hall immediately, but it was too late; Dr. Rana and Miss Chatterjee had already seen me. I was embarrassed and uncomfortable in their presence but sat down in my seat as per the instruction of Dr Rana. If you ask me about the story or scenes after the interval, I will not be able to say even a word but I can tell you about the heat of love Dr Rana and Miss Chatterjee were in.”

“Did they ask you anything after the movie ended?” I asked him.

“Yes. Dr Rana asked me to follow him. We came out of the hall together. When Miss Chatterjee went to the washroom, he came to me and threatened me with the consequences like Robin, if I would ever tell anyone about their viewing the adult film together.”

“Do you mean Dr Rana is behind the sudden disappearance of Robin from the university?” I asked.

“Yes. The way he threatened me confirms it,” Rohit replied.

“But why he will do that?” Javed asked.

“There is perfect reason for his threatening to Robin. Miss Chatterjee wanted to discuss the tips for debate with Robin, so she contacted him, and gradually, they came closer to each other. I had seen them walking in the rain not once but on many occasions.”

 

It was the authentic and breaking news related to the mystery I was eager to know; it relieved me from the unpleasant speculation about Robin being in love with the girl who had mesmerized me with her feet gleefully playing with rain.

But the mystery of Robin’s present location was still unsolved.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

I had a sleepless night, as was the appointed day for the declaration of the final result. A good score of marks was necessary to ensure my job for which I had already been selected subject to the outcome of the result.

Mom wished me good luck before I left for the university.

All were eagerly waiting for the declaration of the result. Rohit, Javed, Aman and I were talking in a corner at a close distance from the administrative block under the open sky.

Sudhir came to us and said, “I am coming directly from the examination wing of the university; the result is not going to be published before lunch.”

Rohit suggested, “If the declaration of the result is going to be delayed, why should we wait here under the sun? It will be better for us to wait in the recreation room as it is 11:00 AM only.”

We agreed to him and went to the recreation room. Except for two of the employees of the maintenance team, there was no one there. 

Addressing all of us, Rohit said, “Friends, today is a special and important day for us. I wish good luck to everyone and pray to God for excellent results for all of us.”

He paused for a moment and continued in a choked voice, “We are here today together on the campus, but from tomorrow, our ways will be different. Taking this opportunity, I request you to say a few words on this occasion.”

Javed initiated, “Friends, I fully agree with the views expressed by Rohit. I am sad that from tomorrow we shall miss each other, but this is the way of the world, and we have to accept the reality. I am happy as well that all of us have been already selected for a job.”

Aman stood up quickly as if, he were eagerly waiting for his turn, “Friends, I don’t feel like contributing to the gloomy atmosphere by repeating that we are going to leave the campus tomorrow. I wish good luck to other colleagues who were jealous of our small group; tomorrow onwards, they will be able to sleep peacefully.”

Sudhir was the next, “Friends, I will miss your company and the campus too. No one can deny that it will take some time to adjust ourselves to a new life going to begin tomorrow.”

Finally, I stood up, “Friends, the memories of the campus and invaluable time spent with you will not fade with time in my life. That, I am sure of it. It will continue to motivate me to achieve my goals despite all the hurdles.”

Our small event came to an end without any intervention.

Rohit asked, “How many have brought their lunchbox today?”

There was no affirmation from anyone.

Rohit continued, “Don’t worry. I am going to give you a treat.”

He asked us to follow him and to go to a small room adjacent to the main recreation room. We were surprised to see the five lunch packets kept on a table. He must have arranged it in advance to make our final day at the university memorable.

We came out of the recreation room after having lunch and went straight to the notice board. A crowd of students in front of the noticeboard confirmed that the result had been displayed. In no time we became part of that crowd. Somehow we could read our names in the list of successful candidates, and congratulate each other.

Suddenly I realized Aman was not near us. I looked around and saw him surrounded by a crowd of students. They were shaking hands with him. Rohit also saw him and walked towards him.

Slowly, the crowd began dispersing, and our group reunited.

Rohit said, “I am pleased to inform you that our small group has been honoured.”

“How?” I asked.

“Aman has topped the list,” he replied.

I congratulated Aman. He was overjoyed. 

All of a sudden our attention diverted to the main gate of the campus from where the patrol car was coming in, siren blaring.

We rushed to the administrative office. A crowd of students were waiting there but they made a way for the policeman.

We saw a clerical staff coming out of the office. Rohit greeted him and asked, “Sir, is something wrong?”

“Yes, terribly wrong.”

“Sir, what is the news?” Rohit inquired.

“It is about Dr. Rana and Miss Chatterjee.”

“What happened to them.”

“Dr. Rana committed suicide.”

“When, sir?”

“Today in the early morning, he strangled Miss Chatterjee and jumped from the 5th floor of his flat,” he said and left. 

I heard someone sobbing. I looked back and found Aman crying. His face, glowing with happiness for securing the top position at the university, was already replaced by a gloomy face. I felt as if his painful look was penetrating my heart because I was aware of Aman’s feelings for Miss Chatterjee while others had no idea why Aman was so much in grief. However, we all were trying to console him.

Meanwhile, the suicide of Dr. Rana and the murder of Miss Chatterjee swarmed like a plague of locusts and became a sensational story not only of the city but of the entire country.

Rohit, Javed, and Satish left for home one after another but I stayed with Aman till he regained his composure. 

I asked him to come with me to a restaurant which was close to our campus, and he agreed.

The restaurant was almost empty. I ordered snacks and coffee.

By now he was normal.

“I know how much you are in pain owing to the sudden death of Miss Chatterjee, but you have to bear with it,” I said.

“She has been brutally murdered by a rogue.”

“Right. But that rogue has already committed suicide.”

“It was better for him; otherwise, I would have killed him.”

His words shocked me because Aman was a soft-spoken and exceptionally gentle person. But when I looked into his eyes, it sent shivers down my spine because of the madness in his eyes.

“I understand your hatred against Dr. Rana and love for Miss Chatterjee, but both are no more in this world, so try to forget them.”

“It’s not so easy. However, I will lead my normal life under the shade of sweet memories of Miss Chatterjee and fight against the odds of life with hatred and resentment against Dr Rana,” he said and went away, thanking me. 

Mom was at the gate with her worried look waiting for me.

“Why are you coming so late? Is something wrong with your result?”

“One of my friends was very upset, so I had to stay with him for some time, that’s the reason for my coming late.”

“Did he fail in the examination?”

“No, Mom. He has topped the list.”

“It’s impossible to understand the behaviour of the new generation. How can a person be upset about his being rated the best?

“He was upset about something else.”

“Okay. What about your results?

“It is better than my expectations. l am going to report for my job next Monday.”

Mom went to the kitchen and came with a packet of sweets.

“I was confident that you would do better,” Mom said feeding me with her favorite sweets.         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

Mom was sitting on the sofa in the living room. She was deep in her thoughts with her closed eyes.

She couldn’t listen to the sound of my footsteps. I sat silently in the chair opposite her without disturbing her and waited for her to open her eyes.

After a considerable time, she opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes. I am okay. When did you come here?”

“I came when you were lost in your thoughts unaware of what was happening around you,” I said.

“I had gone back to my old days for some moments.”

“Are you happy with it?”

“I don’t believe in the concept of absolute pleasure or sorrow. It can’t be seen separately for any phase of life.”

“If it is so why do we sometimes wish to go back to our childhood?”

“It’s not only childhood or adulthood; we wish to go into our past or future to have an imaginary relief from the monotony of the present phase of life.”

Suddenly, something came to her mind, and she asked me to bring the photo album from her room.

“Mom, I don’t know where it has been kept.”

“It may be in the left side drawer of my cupboard.”

I stood up but she gestured for me to sit down and said, “Let me go to find it as I am not sure whether I have kept it after arranging the photographs inside the album.”

Many albums in various sizes were kept untouched for years in the drawers at different places in the house. But which one of those she wanted me to bring from her room didn’t pose any problem to me because I had seen her spending hours with the thickest full-sized album on many occasions, but where it was in her room, that was a riddle for me so I was happy when she decided to bring it herself.

It is still fresh in my memory how she showed me the photos of almost everyone captured in print. 

Gradually, the frequency of the practice decreased with my growing age.

Mom came to the living room with the album and sat beside me on the couch. She opened it and began showing me the photographs one after another with the same exhilaration she had done earlier.

It seemed that some new photographs were in the album, which I hadn’t seen earlier, so I asked her, and she replied in confirmation and continued showing me the photos.

An old black-and-white photograph caught my eye, and I asked Mom to hand the album to me so that I could see it minutely. 

There were four persons in the photograph, including Mom and Urmila Aunty. The presence of the other two in their company jolted me because it was beyond my imagination that someday I would see Robin and the unnamed girl in their teens in a group photograph with Mom and Urmila Aunty.

I showed the photograph to Mom and asked, “Do you know who the boy and girl are?

Mom said without any hesitation, “Yes. I know they are Riya and Brandy.”

“Are they related to Urmila Aunty?”

“Yes. Riya is her daughter, whereas Brandy is the son of her cousin’s sister from Goa, who had come to appear in an examination for a scholarship during that period.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her daughter or husband?” I asked.

“Why are you so interested in Urmila’s life?”

“I will tell you later but give me the details about Urmila Aunty first.”

“Urmila has been my best friend since we got admitted to secondary school. During her graduation, she fell in love with a boy, who was doing his PhD after being awarded the Gold Medal as a topper of the university in his post-graduation.”

Mom paused for some moments and continued, “They had mutually decided to get married after their education but it couldn’t be materialized due to the objections of their parents. Urmila was in great trouble.”

“She must have been in shock.”

“Yes. But there was an additional problem with her, which even today is considered shameful. She was pregnant.

The boy was aware of it so he tried to convince his parents to change their decisions, but they did not.”

“What happened to Urmila Aunty?”

“Her parents insisted on abortion, but she fought tooth and nail for the life of her unborn child. Her parents sent her to Goa, where Brandy’s father took care of her, and she gave birth to a girl child. Brandy’s mother had already died during her delivery, and he was only one year old when Riya came into the world. Urmila came back to home with Riya and Brandy.”

“Does Brandy live with her?”

“No. He stayed with her for two years and returned to Goa with his father.”

“Is Urmila Aunty unmarried ?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to the boy Urmila Aunty was in love with.”

“He is an emeritus professor and still unmarried.”

“Does he know about Riya?”

“Yes. He arranged for her studies in Australia, but she doesn’t know that he is her father.”

“Have you ever met with her father?”

“Yes. He was a professor in your department.”

“Please tell me his name to me.”

“Professor Sabyasachi Ganguly.”

“Now it is your turn to disclose the reasons for your interest in Urmila’s life,” Mom said.

”Excuse me, Mom. I am shocked by so many surprises for the day. I will reveal the reasons to you tomorrow.”

“It’s all right. Come quickly to the dining table for lunch,” she said and entered the kitchen.

After having lunch, I went straight to my room. I was unsettled to decide whether I was happy with the revelation or sad. It gave me pleasure when I knew the name of the unnamed girl, but the pain of separation which plagued Urmila Aunty and Professor Ganguly alike was disturbing.

I was astonished to realize so many shades of love. Pain and pleasure go simultaneously in love, so a person afraid of pain can’t dream of entering the arena of love. 

Riya came into my imagination, and I saw her confused and worried. Did anyone inform her about her father or not?

Her mother must have told her a fabricated story. A plot in such cases is repeatedly created and told by unmarried mothers to their children from generation to generation.

I was sad for Robin, who had lost his mother just before his birth and father at ten years of age. He had to leave the university in anticipation of danger to his life.

Life is good but not easy to understand.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

“Mom, come here.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Why are you in a hurry?”

“Yesterday, you wanted to know the reasons for my interest in your best friend, and now you are not listening to me,” I complain.

“Wait for some time, I am coming to your room,” she said.

Mom was busy in the kitchen. Despite having full knowledge of her busy schedule in the morning, I was excited to tell her about Robin and Riya.

I was sure that the revelation would surprise her. What would be the right way of expressing my soft feelings for Riya to Mom? Whether Mom would like it or reject it outright.

The future of my yet-to-start love affair was stealing my peace of mind. Would Mom accept my request? The question unsettled me for a long time, and an unknown fear crept into my mind.

What would be the reactions of Riya, if I revealed to her about her father? Whether she would be happy or sad.

Mom entered my room when I was locked in battle with these questions.

“Mom, my friend Robin is none but the boy in the photograph to whom you are calling by the name of Brandy?”

Mom was more surprised than I had expected. He couldn’t speak for some moments.

“I admit that I had never expected something like this but I am happy that Brandy is your friend,” she said.

“Why?

“Because he is a genius. You must have benefited in his company.”

“But he has not been coming to the university, and I am unaware of his whereabouts,” I said sadly.

“I know he has left the university forever, but he will come next year to see Urmila.”

“It’s wonderful news, but where is he nowadays? Are you aware?”

“He is abroad. Prof. Ganguly has arranged for his study in Australia, like Riya. Of course, Urmila requested for it. He qualified for a scholarship with flying colours.”

Mom paused and continued, “Can you believe, he was living in an ashram near Pune like a hermit?”

It was not news because I had already seen him in saffron attire in the photograph, but I didn’t tell Mom about it.

“But why?”

“That I don’t know. Brandy didn’t want to discuss it with anyone.”

“Mom, what are your views about Riya?”

“Why are you asking?”

“It just came to my mind, so I am asking.”

“She is beautiful and smart like her mother.”

“Do you want to see her?” Mom asked me, smiling.

“I have seen her, first time at university, then at the bookshop, and last time at the crossroads through the window in the taxi, but she didn’t tell me her name. Surprisingly, she was aware of my name.”

“When did you learn to conceal your secret from me?” Mom was annoyed.

“Sorry, Mom. I was a little scared so I couldn’t. I was unaware of her name and of the fact that she was the daughter of Dr Ganguly and Urmila Aunty till you told me yesterday.”

When Mom asked me to narrate my meeting with Riya, I gave her the details except for eyeing Riya for hours.

I was unsure how Mom would react to my narration, so I looked at her apprehensively, trying to overcome my fear of her outbursts.

She kept mum for a few moments, but her silence disturbed me.

My face reddened when she gave a hearty laugh, apprehending my state of mind, and said, “You have no idea how a girl expresses her feelings?”

“Did I commit anything wrong?”

“Yes. You didn’t respond to feelings the way she was expecting.”

“What was expected from me?”

“You should have run after her and proposed to her.”

I was astonished.

She was delighted to see my happiness written on my face.

“What should I do now to set it right?”

“Nothing. Just wait and let me think about how to amend your mistakes,” Mom said thoughtfully.

I was in jubilation to observe a faint smile on Mom’s face.

Chapter 17

Mr. Malhotra was heading the research and development section of the office. The staff members were not happy with him because of his high-handedness. Since his taking over the charge, no significant research work had come into the limelight, so he was upset and worried. Perhaps it was the reason for his ill behaviour with the staff members.

One day, when I had just come to my desk, the office boy came to me and said that Mr. Malhotra had asked me to see him immediately.

I rushed to his cabin and wished him, but Mr Malhotra didn’t reciprocate, although, a few minutes later, he asked me to take a seat.

“Have you completed six months of your service in the company?”

”This month, I am going to complete, sir,” I replied.

“Do you wish to visit Chennai Division? They are facing some technical issues?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever requested Mr. Joshi for an official tour?”

“No, sir. I have never requested.”

“Good. My team suggests that a senior officer would be better off deputed there.”

“It’s fair enough.”

“Go to Mr. Joshi and tell him you don’t want to go to Chennai.”

Mr Joshi was in charge of the office overall and was known for his quick disposal of files, and he had earned a name for many of his successful projects accomplished in record time.

Most of the employees were happy with him, but a small group of senior officials had a grudge against him because of his independent and impartial decisions. They had been registering their grievances against his unusual confidence in the young batches of officials.

“But why should I go to him?” I asked him as I couldn’t find any reason for that.

“It is he who has chosen you for the Chennai mission.”

“Excuse me, sir. He hasn’t asked me directly. I am afraid he may be offended by my request.”

“It’s all right. Wait here, I am just coming.”

He returned to his cabin almost after thirty minutes, and I saw him disappointed and annoyed.

“Mr Joshi declined to change his decision, so be ready for your tour to Chennai. His secretariat has already booked the tickets for you. Collect it from there and go home early because you need to leave for Chennai tomorrow afternoon.”

I left his cabin and proceeded to the secretariat to collect my tickets.

“Good morning, Miss Rosy,” I wished to the assistant looking after the arrangement of tickets for official tours of the officials.

“Good morning, Mr. Harish. Please check the details, whether it’s okay or not,” she said, handing over the tickets to me.

I checked and found it okay.

“Thanks. It’s perfectly all right,” I said.

Seeing me moving towards the door, she asked, “Please wait a minute. I have some papers about technical glitches the Chennai division is struggling with.”

She gave me a bunch of papers and wished me good luck.

Chapter 18

Mom asked me to arrange a car with a reliable driver for a week when I was preparing the bed for me.

I was unaware of her sudden programme and reason, for that so I asked,” Are you going somewhere? Is it urgent?”

“No. I have some business to attend to within the city. If it’s difficult to arrange this week, you can arrange it for next week.”

“We need not hire it. I can borrow a car with a driver from my friend for a week. Give me one more day for it.”

“It’s fine. It will be safer and more convenient,” Mom said happily.

After a week, I asked Mom, “Do you need the car for more days?”

“No. I had already asked the driver that my business was over. He had already left.” Mom replied.

I had to go to Chennai on an official tour, so I informed Mom, “I will not be here for three days. I am going to Chennai tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“But keep yourself free for Sunday.”

“Why?”

“We have to go somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I will not tell you now. Come back from Chennai then we shall discuss on the subject.”

My official trip to Chennai was uncomfortable, but I hadn’t any choice. The office in charge, Mr Joshi, had selected me to resolve the issue faced by the Chennai division against the suggestions of senior officials.

As our senior colleagues were of the view, that an experienced officer would have been sent to Chennai in place of a new officer like me. In that situation, I was afraid of losing the confidence of Mr. Joshi, so I made all efforts to prove myself, and by the grace of the Almighty, my mission was accomplished; whether it would be to his satisfaction or not, I wasn’t sure of it.

I knocked gently on the door of the cabin of Mr. Joshi.

He asked me, “Come in and take a seat.”

I greeted him and sat down in front of him.

He reciprocated warmly and asked me, “How was your trip?”

“It was nice, sir,” I replied and handed over the file to him.

He studied the file carefully and returned it to me without expressing his opinion.

I got up from the chair to leave his cabin but he stopped me and said, “Come along with me to the conference room.”

All the staff members of our office were present in the conference room. Mr. Joshi asked me to sit in the chair beside him and read out the report to the staff members. I read out the report and there was a silence in the room.

“Can anyone suggest to improve upon the report?” Mr. Joshi asked.

Observing that there was no suggestion from anyone, he said, “I am impressed with the report and it gives me satisfaction that I had taken the right decision to send him to Chennai.”

A senior official got up from his seat, and said, ” Sir, due to your encouragement and motivation to new blood, they have started giving their best to the organization.”

“Thank you all. The meeting of today is over. You may go to your desk,” Mr. Joshi said.

He looked at me and asked me to come with him to his cabin to have a cup of tea. 

On Saturday during dinner, Mom asked me, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes. You had asked me to keep myself free.”

“Good. You have kept your promise.”

“But you haven’t?”

“How?”

“You had promised, that you would tell me on my return from Chennai where we are going on Sunday.”

“I got it. I want to visit the coffee bar that you used to go to every Sunday evening. I have heard that they serve nice coffee.”

I looked at her in surprise and said, “It’s all right. We shall go to the Cara Coffee Bar. I hope you will like their coffee. At what time do you wish to go there?”

“In the evening at six. Is it okay for you?”

“I am free tomorrow so we can go at any time.”

“It’s so nice of you,” Mom said.

Like any Sunday morning, I wasn’t in the mood to leave bed in the early morning but I had to. Someone was at the door. When the doorbell rang for the second time, it confirmed that Mom had been in her worship room, so I came down and opened the door.

Dad came in and asked me, “How are you?”

“I am fine, Dad. What’s a pleasant surprise, I was not expecting you.”

“It finalized at the last minute,” Dad said.

Meanwhile, Mom came and joined us in the living room.

While we were having lunch, I informed Dad about our programme, “Dad, we are going to the coffee bar in the evening. Would you like to go there?”

Mom intervened, “Let your Dad take a rest. He must have been tired of his journey.”

“I am fine. Why do you want to keep me away from the pleasure of having coffee together?” Dad asked Mom.

When we reached the entrance of the coffee bar, Dad asked me, “Your Mom badly needs a new sandal. Go inside and wait, we will join you shortly.”

I entered the coffee bar and went straight to my favourite table which was luckily vacant. A waiter came to me for the order. I asked him to wait.

“Hello, Harish. May I sit down here?”

I looked up, and I saw her in disbelief, Riya was there.

She sat in the chair opposite me.

“Hello. How are you?”

“I am fine.”

“Once, I had been waiting for you here, but you didn’t turn up, and today, you are here so unexpectedly,” I said.

“Are you not happy with it?

“I am delighted,” I replied. She was happy with my reply.

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?” I asked.

“Of course, I will if you pay for it,” she replied.

I ordered the coffee for us. The waiter served the coffee instantly. While sipping on, all at once, I saw the hanky in her hand; it was of the same pattern I had bought for her as a return gift. I would have brought that gift pack with me if I had been aware of our meeting.

I realized that she was observing me looking at her hanky interestingly, so I diverted my gaze from it.

Suddenly I heard a furious voice from behind, “You didn’t wait for us. I was not aware of your plan to see your girlfriend. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to come here.” He was Dad.

I was at a loss but immediately got up from my chair and said, “Dad, I am extremely sorry. I would have waited for you.”

Dad laughed and said, “Don’t be upset. I was joking.”

Riya also got up and asked me, “May I leave now?”

Before I would have replied, I heard someone saying to her, “You have to stay with him forever.”

I looked around and saw Prof. Ganguly and Urmila Aunty coming to us.

Riya ran to them. Prof. Ganguly, Urmila Aunty, Dad and Mom were looking at me with all smiles.