Ultimate Reunion

Lovers' Low

She didn't have a new dress to wear on her birthday this year. So, she was surprised when he wished her. "Happy Birthday, Piyali."

"You... you remembered?"

"I haven't grown senile yet. I have a decent memory," he grinned.

"Who said anything about senility?" she flushed.

He didn't notice the tinge of sadness in her voice. "Come with me," he motioned her to follow him. They were going to his private practice room again.

He set his alarm for 5.45 and brought out Pandit ji's Sitar. She sat down with it, but could not proceed. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.

"Piyali!"

Hearing his voice made it worse and her silent tears turned into sobs.

He went forward, took the Sitar away and held her. He tried to wipe off her tears, but lost control of himself. It didn't help that she didn't resist and gave in willingly, when he gathered her in his arms and lowered her on the carpeted floor. Caressing her pliant body, feeling the goose bumps on her skin, licking away her tears and crushing her quivering lips was intoxicating. He was swept away by her whimpers and moans. Later he would only have vague memories of when it happened, when he collapsed on top of her and when they drifted off the sleep in each other's arms. It was his alarm that woke them up.

"Oh God!" he muttered as he sprang back from her. He looked at her with confusion clouding his face. She closed her eyes and he put on his discarded clothes. "Everyone will be here soon," he said. He should react somehow to the situation. But he didn't know what he was feeling. He scanned the room not knowing what he was looking for. Then he left. He would need washing up before he went before others, if he didn't want to give away...

Piyali's feelings were a strange mix of fear and fulfilment. It was disastrous, reckless, as Sonali would say. And yet... She considered going to the regular practice room to be there with others. But she looked at her clothes and her matted hair. It would be like declaring to the entire world what had transpired just now. She got dressed and smoothened her clothes and hair as much as possible. Then she quietly walked out of the house, unaware of Aporna watching her from the garden. 'Mukundo Babu was unwell,' she would explain to her mother. Debangi would grumble as to why he could not have informed earlier instead of making her wake up at four for no reason. But that was fine. She could live with that. Tougher would be to concentrate on teaching students, and on her own lessons.

--

She had almost given up on hearing from him and was thinking of calling or texting him, when her phone rang. It was a landline number.

"Mukundo Babu wanted me to call all his students. He is going out of town for a while. So, there will be no classes. He would inform once he is back."

"What... Where is he going?"

"I don't know, Madam," it was some house staff who was tasked with informing everyone. Including her!

She tried his number. It was switched off.

--

Days passed. She had never found them so long earlier. Seven of them. She was tired. Tired of sending him messages, of trying to call him on the number that was always switched off, of trying to make sense of things, and of people who constantly asked her what was wrong. Was it the time to admit to Sonali, whose questioning eyes threatened to penetrate her soul to get answers, that she was right in warning her? That it was a disaster? Her house didn't even afford her enough privacy to cry. She could feel frustration building up inside her. It was almost like a physical weight on her shoulders!

When she woke up on the eighth day, her head was pounding. She wanted to scream out loud, to burn the world down. She would go mad if things continued this way. She went out and looked for Salim Kaku. He wasn't yet asleep and readily agreed to drop her.

"Mukundo Babu is back?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yes Kaku."

"Now, I think you would smile again. You seem to be withering away without your morning lessons," he teased her. She managed to smile back without bursting into tears.