Category: NaBloPoMo

Chapter Thirty Three: Cold Facts

They sat solemnly in the ambulance, along with the injured man and a couple of nurses. Ms Marrie hadn’t said anything to her, but Pravaana cast her eyes down. She felt ashamed she hadn’t offered to help the injured man. She had been too shocked to do anything, but it didn’t quite qualify as an excuse.

The nurses had handed the man’s wallet over to Ms Marrie. She examined it for anything that might say something about the injured man.

“His name’s Ali.” Ms Marrie announced gravely. Praveena looked up and watched Ms Marrie as she continued to rummage in his wallet. It was a black leather wallet full of fresh notes. Praveena watched as Ms Marrie took out and examined a few cards from the wallet. She recognized a credit and a debit card. There was also a blood donor identity card and a driver’s license. There was a photo attached to the wallet. A photograph of a small girl with jet black hair and black round eyes. She was smiling. For some reason, looking at the smiling girl calmed Praveena. She noticed Ms Marrie staring at the picture and assumed she felt the same.

“Give me your phone,” Ms Marrie asked Praveena. She did, and Ms Marrie dialed the number on the identity card.

“How’s he?” Ms Marrie asked the nurse, her finger hovering over the call button. The nurse took a look at the unconscious man and replied, “It’s critical, but he’ll be fine.” Ms Marrie nodded once and called the number. She spoke in a quiet voice to the man’s wife, Praveena assumed. She told the other woman about the accident and, though her husband’s condition was quite serious, he would be fine. “Nothing the doctors can’t fix.” she assured the woman on the other side. She gave her the name of the hospital and other details, the location of the accident and the condition of his motorcycle. Once she had disconnected the call, she returned the phone to Praveena with a quiet “thanks.”

About an hour and a half later, they walked out of the hospital leaving Mr Ali in his wife’s care. As they went through the busy hospital corridor, Praveena turned to Ms Marrie. “I’m sorry, Miss” she apologised.

“Why would you be sorry?” Ms Marrie asked, curious. She looked at Praveena as if seeing her for the first time.

“For not helping that man,” Praveena was worried she had watched silently while a man had almost died. She hated herself.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “I understand you were too shocked to react.” she smiled, “just be aware of things from now.”

Praveena nodded acknowledging Ms Marrie’s advice.

They didn’t speak until they had boarded a bus. Having settled herself comfortably, Praveena observed, “People aren’t too helpful are they, Miss?”

She had startled Ms Marrie out of a deep thought. “What do you mean?” she responded in confusion.

“Those people back there,” Praveena said “they just watched — unflinching.” she said surprisedly.

“It’s not like that,” Ms Marrie corrected her. All of them could have faced the same dilemma you did,” seeing Praveena’s perplexity, she continued, “They must have expected someone else to help him. If you had noticed, once the ambulance arrived, those onlookers helped the nurses lift the man onto the stretcher.” She laughed. “It’s a queer psychology of humans — the ‘Bystander Bias’?” she asked Praveena as if trying to remind her of something. “It’s common.” she added.

Suddenly it all came to Praveena. She had heard of the Bystander Bias — she had studied about it in her first year.

“But,” began a worried Praveena not understanding what Ms Marrie said, “If it’s common,” she spoke slowly, making sure spoke what she meant, “then is there a way to not give into it?”

Ms Marrie smiled broadly, “of course there is,” she took Praveena’s hand in hers, and when Praveena raised her eyebrows in doubt, “Knowledge.” Ms Marrie replied. “When you’re aware of the thing that is holding you back, you can easily overcome it.”

Praveena smiled, but she wasn’t quite sure if she understood what Ms Marrie meant. She decided to figure it out for herself. For a whole minute, she thought over what Ms Marrie had told her and finally, it dawned upon her. She slapped her forehead hard, why hadn’t she realized it earlier?

She turned to Ms Marrie and noticed she had been watching her as she figured it out. They smiled at each other. “Thank you, Miss.”

“You know what Praveena?” Ms Marrie asked her unexpectedly, “when I saw that man, injured, about to die,” Praveena noticed her voice shaking mildly, “I reminded me of — ” she swallowed, “of Kevin.”

She turned to face Praveena, smiling painfully. “That’s how he died,” she added nodding her head thoughtfully.

Praveena didn’t know what to say. Ms Marrie bade her goodbye at the next stop.

Praveena took the lesson to her heart. She had to travel a little further to reach her stop and kept mulling over the day’s incidents in her head. She looked through the window and noticed the withered trees that lined the streets. They were beautiful, trees that spread their warmth and shade throughout the world. It was a pity to see them lifeless. They stood tall, but without liveliness in those swaying branches. They were contaminated instead, by smoke and the sounds of the city.

Praveena looked around the city, her city. It was the place she was born in, and all she could see were slums and unclean drainage systems. It was rather painful to realize she called this filthy city home.

As the bus crossed over a bridge, Praveena saw a man in the distance. He moved back and forth heavily as if a strong wind had blown him off course. He seemed to be struggling to get his feet back on to the straight path. In his failed attempts, Praveena noticed he had stamped on the muddy puddles nearby sending mud water splashing all around him. He came to a swaying halt in front of a small thatched hut and banged hard on the wooden door. A thin woman emerged from the door and Praveena noticed she was forcing a small child to stay inside. The man shouted at the woman who answered in a low and crouched position. Praveena stared in horror as the man slapped the woman hard on the face and left the hut, swaying and swinging his hands in the air. The woman went back into the hut and shut the door.

As they traveled further into the city, they came across a school building that looked like it hadn’t been renovated in the last twenty years or so. It was a small building and the light blue paint on the walls peeled off. She saw a lot of school children, leaving the school in groups of four and five. A smile played on her lips as she thought of the days she used to walk alone from school. It was a while before she saw that most of the students were bare-foot. A couple of kids wore cheap-looking slippers but there was a little girl with dark short hair who had covered her feet in a bundle of sack held together with a string of sack rope. Praveena was just another passerby as she watched those children involuntarily stepping on stones and muddy pools, smearing their feet with mud, and countless diseases. Praveena saw those children heading towards the slum the bus had just past by. It was their life, she realized bitterly. She thought of an article she had read earlier that day. According to the local newspaper, a few of those slum residents had been allocated small homes in areas with better living conditions, but these people had turned down the chance. Praveena couldn’t understand why they didn’t choose better lives.

Some ten minutes later, she was still in the same bus, but her view had changed. The streets were levelled, the trees were cut and shaped; forced to grow in shapes humans wanted them to. There were plenty of boxed bushes gracing the pavilions of large housing plans. It was the cleaner part of the city, cleaner because it was the home of the richer people. Here, people dressed not just comfortably but also expensively. She sized up a girl walking with her earphones plugged in. She wore a jean and a tee shirt, both branded, and had an iPod in her hand which she kept caressing every two seconds.

Moving on, the bus entered that part of city occupied by the working class. Here people dressed according to occasions. A normal day in office would mean a simple pair of trousers and a shirt, whereas a special festival was celebrated in vibrant colours and traditional dresses, not to mention the fire crackers. The bus past a temple and in a fleeting moment, Praveena got the glimpse of a bunch of people pouring milk over an idol; a part of their worship.

It was a while before Praveena realized she had forgotten to get off at her stop. Her random thoughts had clouded her mind and she had come far away from home. Chiding herself for her mindlessness, she got off the bus and took another bus that went back the same route to get home.

Sitting on the bus she couldn’t help but wonder at people’s attitudes. They were willing to spend thousands of rupees on deities they don’t know exist but they were reluctant to spend on fellow humans.

‘Money,’ Praveena’s inner voice said, ‘is the root of everything. Some people don’t help others because they of psychology, but most people don’t help just because other people are poor. Rich or poor, all these people need help to see sense. But sometimes, people don’t want to be helped. They’d rather be desperate.’

Praveena sighed, agreeing in silence.

Chapter Thirty Two: Explanations

Praveena thought back to the conversation she had had with Ms Marrie. She wondered how their first conversation in school had been an eyeopener; Ms Marrie had said, “You’re not the only one with problems,” and Praveena had realized the truth in those words the first time she had understood Niveda’s problems. Now it was Ms Marrie. Everyone has problems, but not two people show it the same way as the other. She smiled to herself.

She understood at last. She felt she had changed a lot. Her attitude towards people had changed drastically; she was now wiser to other people’s dilemmas.

Praveena thought back to the day her mother had died. She thought of how she had felt, and realized she had been trying to blame her mother’s death on something or someone, just like Ms Marrie had had. She had been searching for a reason, any reason, to blame her mother’s cancer on. Perhaps it was her age, she thought, and her immature mind that had barred her from accepting it sooner. Once again, her exchange with Ms Marrie had changed her perceptions.

And she grew greedy for more.

Praveena took a sip of her orange juice. She was at the Green Leaf restaurant again. Following their meeting a couple of days ago, Praveena had wanted to meet Ms Marrie again. She had called Ms Marrie and they had agreed on another lunch. Ms Marrie too had been eager. What began as a way of clearing Praveena’s cluttered mind in school, was growing into a relationship that neither of them could name.

Praveena looked around the restaurant. It was a wet afternoon and as a way of complimenting the weather, the blinds were raised, letting nature’s dull light wade inside the restaurant in pride. Even though the dim light illuminated the inside of the restaurant, there was an unlit candle and a matchbox on each of the small round tables. Praveena admired the white candles on the scarlet tablecloths as Ms Marrie walked up to her.

Praveena smiled at her. Ms Marrie looked beautiful as ever. She wore a light brown cotton sari, a colour that matched Praveena’s tee shirt. Ms Marrie’s eyes looked content again, and joy radiated in her broad smile. She took her seat and they placed their orders.

“How’s your father, Praveena?” Ms Marrie asked as she ate.

“He’s fine, Miss.” Praveena answered, licking her fingers and trying to look decent at the same time. “He’s so busy with work nowadays.”

“Hmm…” Ms Marrie acknowledged as she continued to eat. “So,” she swallowed, “has he spoken of marriage yet?” she asked casually. As if she had known all along.

Praveena choked on her mouthful of rice. Ms Marrie offered her some water and she took it. Eyes watering, she asked, “How did you know?” She didn’t hide her surprise.

“Happens to a lot of girls, and most of them agree,” It was perhaps the first time Praveena had noticed a hint of disapproval in Ms Marrie’s voice. She held on to it. “It didn’t happen to you, though. Did it?” she asked, enviously.

“Oh, yes it did,” Ms Marrie almost laughed thinking about it.

“How did you handle it?” Praveena was now full of devotion for Ms Marrie.

Ms Marrie shrugged, “I told my parents that I would marry when I wanted to.” she said simply.

“And they were ok with that?” Praveena asked, disbelieving. It seemed like her father wasn’t the only super dad.

Ms Marrie nodded, “As long as you’re sure, your parents would never try to change your mind. They’d start believing in you.”

Praveena nodded. She understood why Kamal hadn’t objected; he believed in her.

Praveena told Ms Marrie everything about the marriage proposal, from her aunt to the phone conversation. She also told her about Kamal’s reaction to her request.

Ms Marrie listened without interrupting.

Once Praveena had finished her narrative, “So, you need some time,” Ms Marrie observed. “Do you say that on someone’s influence?” She paused, “Are you interested in someone?”

Praveena thought. Why didn’t she want to get married? “No,” she said after a while. Ms Marrie raised her eyebrows in a questioning look. “I want to figure out what I want to do with my life, before I commit to marriage.”

“Ok,” Ms Marrie said simply, “you’re fine.” She shrugged smiling.

Praveena smiled in return, a little doubtful.

They left the restaurant together. Praveena volunteered to accompany Ms Marrie to the bus stop. It was a busy Saturday afternoon and the streets were full of heavy vehicles. People traveled long to enjoy the weekend with their family. There weren’t too many pedestrians though. Praveena and Ms Marrie crossed the street cautiously and waited for the bus to arrive.

Praveena suddenly noticed a group of people huddling together some forty feet away. She pointed it out to Ms Marrie and the two of them approached the crowd.

When they reached the crowd, they saw a biker, injured badly and struggling to breathe. Praveena stood stunned. She didn’t know how to react. The man on the ground was writhing in pain. He was surrounded by a pool of warm blood and she could see the gash in his head. His bike was a few feet away from him, the hand bar lopsided and bent in an awkward angle.

Praveena stood horrified, looking at the man who now seemed to have lost his consciousness. She turned around and realized Ms Marrie was missing. Before she could react however, Ms Marrie appeared with a bottle of soda. As Praveena, along with the onlookers, watched in silence, Ms Marrie went over to the injured man, lifted his head on to her left hand and poured some of the liquid into the man’s mouth.

A minute or two later, the ambulance arrived. No one knew who had called the emergency ambulance service. They took the man in a stretcher and asked Ms Marrie to accompany them. Without a second thought, Ms Marrie went with them, pulling Praveena along.

Chapter Thirty One: Yet Another Reunion

Praveena replayed her conversation with aunt Kameela before realising the one thing that bothered her more than any other: Aunt Kameela had said college was to prepare her for marriage. Had the other students known this earlier?

So had they spent three years in college just to gain the mental maturity that they would need to raise a family in future? It distressed her. Now it explained the goofing-around that most students had done all the time.

“But that’s how things are,” she could imagine aunt Kameela’s argument. Now that she thought of it, she remembered her female lecturers mentioning something like that. They had said college was the most important part of their lives because that’s when they could enjoy their lives as they wished. ‘But,’ her inner voice interrupted, ‘remember what James said? He said, “Enjoy life, guys. After three years here, you deserve it!” See? Joy isn’t limited to college — or anything else.’

Praveena took a deep breath. ‘Alright,’ she thought. She needed a break from this confusion. She decided to put the matter to rest. Meanwhile, she knew what she needed: a talk with Ms Marrie.

Praveena dialed Ms Marrie’s number. After years of not being able to reach her, this time, Praveena heard Ms Marrie’s voice on the other side.

“Hello?” Ms Marrie said in exasperation. ‘She must have had a tough day at school,’ Praveena thought before answering.

“Hi, Ms Marrie. It’s Praveena.” She realized Ms Marrie wouldn’t have recognised her new number. When she replied after a little hesitation, Ms Marrie was surprised. “Praveena!” she exclaimed, sounding quite unhappy. “What’s up?” Praveena detected no enthusiasm.

She was taken aback. She had thought Ms Marrie would be happy she had called. What had she done to offend Ms Marrie? She wanted to find out.

“Er — Miss, can I meet you?”

There was a pause. Praveena realized Ms Marrie was debating with herself, ‘why though?’, she wondered.

At last, she responded. “Alright,” Ms Marrie said heaving a sigh. “Lunch today?”

Smiling wide, “Sure, Miss” Praveena responded, the excitement showing in her voice.

“Okay then. How about Green Leaf restaurant, at one?”

Praveena agreed and Ms Marrie disconnected the call.

She arrived at the Green Leaf restaurant at 12.45. It was a bright Thursday afternoon and the hotel had the blinds drawn to create a dull and quiet ambiance. Praveena liked the surrounding. It was appetising and welcoming. She sipped on her second glass of orange juice when Ms Marrie walked over and took a seat facing her.

There was such a difference in Ms Marrie. As a student, Praveena had admired Ms Marries quick and noiseless strides. It was still noiseless, but Ms Marrie walked much slower now. Her long dark hair was now short and Praveena saw streaks of grey. Her eyes too were sunken, and appeared sad. She had combed her hair carelessly and wore a modest floral white sari that complimented her dark complexion. ‘She’s pretty,’ Praveena thought, ‘except her eyes,’ her inner voice added.

Ms Marrie broke into her thoughts, “Hello, Praveena.” It was a plain and blunt greeting. There was no emotion or a welcoming tone in her greeting, and that bothered Praveena.

“Hello, Miss. How are you?” Praveena didn’t let her thoughts hinder her compassion for Ms Marrie.

“I’m good, and you?” Praveena grew irritated. Ms Marrie smiled, but Praveena only saw formality in the smile; the concern she was used to had gone. ‘Something is wrong,’ she realized. ‘This is so unlike Ms Marrie,’ her inner voice helped.

“Is something wrong, Miss? You sound so stiff and uncomfortable,” she leant forward, her voice soft. “Much like the way I was after my mother died.” she observed as an after thought.

Ms Marrie said nothing. But Praveena watched, distressed, as Ms Marrie’s eyes swelled with tears. She blinked them away.

Praveena raised her eyes at Marrie, “What happened Miss?”

Ms Marrie shook her head in reply and smiled, a warmer smile than before, “I’m glad you thought of talking to me.”

Praveena could see Ms Marrie was hiding something, but she decided not to bring it up. Instead, she said, “I tried calling you many times over the past three years, but I couldn’t reach you.”

“Oh,” Ms Marrie exclaimed, apologetic, “my phone’s been giving me a lot of trouble lately.” She smiled again. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Oh, nothing important,” Praveena lied just as easily as Ms Marrie. “So,” she asked “shall we order?”

They ordered their meals and while they waited, “How’s your husband, Miss?” Praveena asked instinctively.

Ms Marrie gave her a long hard look before saying flatly, “he’s dead.”

Praveena shock showed all over her face; her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a fit of silent disbelief. How could such a thing happen to her beloved Ms Marrie? “When?” she could hardly get the words out of her dry mouth. Her voice came out as a whisper. Though she had never met Ms Marrie’s husband, she was knew it was a love marriage.

“It’s been three years,” Ms Marrie smiled through the tears peeking through her eye lids. “He met with an accident — the day before the marriage.” Praveena hadn’t asked for the details, but Ms Marrie told her anyway. Praveena knew it would have been difficult for Marrie to speak of the matter. She swallowed the pity she felt for Ms Marrie. She knew her teacher hated it when others pitied her, and Praveena didn’t want to hurt her further. She remained silent.

Their lunch arrived, but Praveena didn’t feel like eating anymore. Ms Marrie however, started eating and gestured Praveena to do the same. As Praveena tried to munch on her meal, ignoring the lump in her throat, Ms Marrie spoke.

“You know,” Praveena looked up at her, “I was cut off from people after Kevin – he was my fiancé – died. I shut my emotions and became cold towards others. I wanted somebody to blame, and I couldn’t tolerate it when I couldn’t do that. That’s why I didn’t attend your calls.” She smiled at Praveena’s look of disappointment. “But, when you reminded me I was being like you used to be, I realize that it’s time for me to leave the past behind.” She smiled broadly now. The tears were gone.

“Thanks a lot, Praveena.”

Chapter Thirty: Relative Trouble

Praveena enjoyed her leisure time. She didn’t do much the first couple of days; she ate well and gave herself a lot of rest. ‘You deserve it,’ her inner voice convinced her it wasn’t laziness.

A week later, Kamal mentioned Aunt Kameela. “Hey, I forgot to tell you,” he began with an enthusiastic greeting. “Kameela called yesterday,” he lowered his pitch a notch at Praveena’s look. She didn’t care about aunt Kameela, and it showed well on her face. He continued, “She asked me what you decided.” He hesitated. “And…” He haltered, worried about Praveena’s reaction. “She said she’d speak to you,” he looked up at her, wondering.

Praveena said nothing however. Kamal knew she was irritated. But he had wanted to convey the news; he didn’t like the idea of Kameela catching Praveena unprepared.

Praveena’s remained impassive. But fumed within. Glad that her father had warned her beforehand, she smiled musing on the prospect of giving aunt Kameela a piece of her mind. This should be interesting, she thought.

“You’re smiling,” Kamal observed.

“Yeah,” Praveena said defensively. “If she wants to ask me why I don’t want to marry her son, I’ll tell her why,” she said tauntingly.

Kamal looked a bit worried now, “Well,” he shrugged, “you know what to do, just remember, she is your mother’s sister” he said. “In a way,” he added in haste, catching Praveena’s disbelieving look.

“No worries, Pa. I’ll take care.” she smiled mischievously.

That evening, aunt Kameela called Praveena.

“Hello, Praveena!” aunt Kameela sang in her sugary voice. Praveena could imagine her wide smile on the other side, displayed all of her vain betel stained teeth. She was thankful aunt Kameela hadn’t decided to come over in person. It had been difficult enough the last time, a second encounter could have ended disastrous, Praveena thought.

“Hi, aunt Kameela, how are you? How’s everyone at home?” Praveena planned to stick to the conventional basics. She did not need a lecture on that.

“Oh, everything here’s alright of course,” aunt Kameela replied lighthearted. Praveena couldn’t help but notice the extra emphasis on the word ‘here.’ It was easy to discern the route of the conversation. She decided to wait for it however. If Kameela was going to confront her, Praveena didn’t want to help her by opening the matter herself.

“Oh, that’s good.” Praveena tried hard to bring a smile in her voice. She wondered if it conveyed when aunt Kameela replied.

“But things are not so ok over there, is it?” Praveena hated the way Kameela spoke. She used the same annoying tone she had had at her mother’s funeral; the tone of talking to an over emotional preschooler.

“There’s nothing like that,” Praveena shrugged, more out of habit before realizing aunt Kameela couldn’t see her.

“Your father told me everything, Praveena” she said slowly as if to emphasize that her knowledge wasn’t useless.

“What did he say?” Praveena was now getting curious. How much of their conversation would have Pa told her? She was still lost when Kameela’s strong voice bombarded her thoughts.

“Why don’t you like to marry Prem?”

‘Finally!’ thought Praveena.

“It’s not that I don’t like Prem,” she tried to make it sound right. “It’s just that I’m not ready for marriage. I need some time.”

“But, why?” There was hones curiosity in Aunt Jameela’s voice.

“I need to mentally prepare myself” Praveena remained patient. She needed to get the thoughts out of her head. She was glad she got an opportunity to express herself.

“That’s what college was for,” Praveena imagined Kameela’s earnest and confused face. But after listening to what Kameela just said, Praveena was a little surprised. She had been wondering the purpose of her formal education. ‘Was that supposed to mentally prepare you for marriage?’ her inner voice probed her, disgusted. ‘So, it wasn’t for the knowledge?’ She was crestfallen.

“Praveena? You there?” aunt Kameela yelled from the other side.

“Yes, yes. I’m listening” Praveena realized she had been silent for a while and spoke in hurry.

“I was saying, that after college –- or maybe a couple years after work — girls settle down and raise a family.” She took a deep breath. “And since you’re not planning on working, I thought — “ she left the thought hanging.

Praveena remained silent, reflecting on aunt Kameela’s statement. How easily she had said it! Praveena couldn’t accept it. Aunt Kameela’s voice interrupted her thoughts again.

“Alright, Praveena. You think about it. Bye,” Aunt Kameela disconnected the line even before Praveena could react.

Praveena wondered if her long periods of silence had offended aunt Kameela. ‘So what if it had?’ her inner voice reasoned. And Praveena agreed.

“After college — or maybe after a couple years of work — girls settle down and raise their families.”

Aunt Kameela’s words haunted Praveena. She still couldn’t accept it. Her mind raced. Why had it become such a common notion? She had seen women who worked. But, she thought. Almost all of the working women she had known had already been married, even Ms Marrie — wait — ‘what could have happened to Ms Marrie?’

She was curious. She wanted to know if Ms Marrie had been married. ‘Of course she would’ve married’ her inner voice said, exasperated.

‘But, why didn’t she invite you?’ it was now the second voice.

While her two inner voices imposed contradictory theories, Praveena tried focusing on the bigger matter: Why did girls marry after a certain stage and start living for another person altogether? It sounded as if a girl’s final destination was marriage, as if they don’t have the freedom to choose a life after that.

Praveena wondered whether it was right to limit a girl’s potential after marriage. She knew a lot of women who had chosen their own careers, even after marriage. They didn’t think marriage was the stop point. For them, marriage meant companionship and fellowship, and a family was moral support.

Marriage is just a part of a woman’s life and not the end of it, she concluded as she sat cross-legged on her bed.

Aunt Kameela and her son Prem would disagree, she thought. They were an orthodox family who expected people to behave just like them. Living there would be a pain, for them and her. ‘That family is certainly not for you.’ she decided.

Chapter Twenty Nine: A Long Holiday

Praveena busied herself in her last couple of days packing up all of her possessions, and stuffing them into her old trunk. Her father called, telling her how much he longed to see her. He had a lot of plans to share with her when she came back.

Praveena was getting ready to leave Bangalore in a mix of joy and sorrow. She met her class mates for the last time and promised to keep in touch, quietly acknowledging the empty words. She and Anil had a final meeting in the valley facing the hostel buildings.

He sat waiting for her, a traveling bag by his side. As Praveena walked up to him, his flying hair reminded her of their first weekend in college, when she had first met him on the same valley. Smiling to herself, she sat next to him.

He had been staring at the other side when Praveena sat next to him, but sensing her, “It’s strange, isn’t it?” he said and turned to her with a smile. Seeing Praveena’s perplexity, he added, “that we meet, like this, just before going home?”

Praveena smiled, she could sense the sadness that emanated from him. She could feel it too. For a long time they said nothing. Praveena’s thought back of Niveda and the days they had spent, in this very campus, as “the trio.” She felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks, but made no effort to wipe them, leaving the chill morning breeze to take care of it. The wind ruffled her uncombed hair. Letting it wash over her, she wondered if she would ever have the chance to witness it again.

When it was time to say goodbye, Anil and Praveena stood facing each other. Anil reached out his hand, and Praveena shook it.

“Take care, Anil,” Praveena said, hit by reality all too soon. “Call me whenever you can,” she added.

Anil nodded, smiling. “You too.” he said. They walked together towards the gates. They were just about to part ways when a voice called out from behind.

“Anil! Praveena!”

They turned and saw James, a rucksack on his back, walking towards them with a spring in every step. “Hey,” he panted coming to a halt in front of them. “It was great knowing you guys,” he smiled wide. The duo returned the smile, “Thank you for being a wonderful teacher, Sir” Praveena said as Anil nodded his approval.

“I just played fair for my salary,” he shrugged waving the compliment away. “I just have one last advice for you,” The duo raised their eyebrows in unison at his sudden seriousness, “Enjoy life, you guys.” James said grinning and spreading his arms wide, “After three years here,” he pointed at the dingy college building, “you deserve it!” he winked.

Waving goodbye, he walked towards his motorcycle. With a loving pat on the seat of his gleaming black Bullet, he jumped onto it and rode away, his head held high and pumping his fist in the air.

They stood watching his figure fade as another lecturer, who had come up to them without their knowing it, shook his head, saying “Silly guy, quit his job!” The lecturer walked away, “See you at the convocation,” he patted Anil on the shoulder. Anil mirrored Praveena’s surprise. James quit? They wondered as they heard the final sounds of his motorcycle fade into the distance.

Kamal held Praveena in a long embrace. He didn’t care it was the railway station, he didn’t care loads of people watched them. He was glad to have his daughter back, and he showed it by giving her a warm welcome hug.

“How are you, Pa?”

“I’m good, good,” he waved his hand doing something of a gig. He seemed happy at her return, but Praveena knew there was something huge in his mind. He looked older, with more wrinkles on his face than Praveena remembered. His skin had begun to hang loose. He had lost almost all of his black hair; Praveena saw a lot of greys and even a bald patch forming. But he looked fit. Praveena assumed he still played football in the park with the kids in the neighbourhood.

Once they reached home, Kamal prepared Praveena’s favourite lunch while she bathed. Just the thought of being back home rejuvenated her.

After a heavy meal, Kamal and Praveena sat on the couch to watch television. Praveena realized she hadn’t spoken to her father as much as she had wanted to. She switched the television off. Kamal turned a curious eye at her. She smiled.

“Pa, say something.”

Kamal turned to face her. “Say something?” he repeated incredulous. “What do you want me to say?”

“Something,” Praveena shook her head shrugging. “Anything.”

“Well,” Kamal hesitated, “What do you want to do, now that you’re done with college?”

Praveena raised her eyebrows and told him she had had enough of college, and that she would wait for perhaps a couple of months until she decided what to do next.

“Alright…” Kamal trailed away, “Thing is,” he sighed, rubbing his hands together. Praveena grew impatient, but waited for her father to finish.

“Remember aunty Kameela?”

Praveena remembered her. She had spoken to her at Geetha’s funeral. “You mean the one who told me everything would be alright, and then asked my name?” She didn’t make much of an effort to hide the distaste she felt for her relatives, particularly those who showed up at her mother’s funeral just to display their social status. They had all come only because they hadn’t wanted society to bad-mouth them.

Kamal nodded, now a little uncomfortable.

“What about her?” Praveena  became harsh. She wondered if the aunt had died and he wanted her to accompany him to the funeral. She was ready to decline his request, when unexpectedly, he said, “she asked me if you’d marry her son — Prem.”

Praveena was shocked. She stood up, staring at her father. She hadn’t even thought of marriage yet, and yet, here was her father, asking her to marry some random guy whom she had never even met!

“Pa,” she tried to keep her voice low; she hated the idea of shouting at her father. “I don’t want to get married.”

Kamal looked stunned, open-mouthed, “Yet,” she added.

“I need some time, Pa,” she quietly said sitting down again. “to sort out the priorities in my life.”

Kamal said nothing for a while. Though he was mute, she saw he was thinking about something, but looked as if he didn’t want her to know.

“Alright then,” he shrugged at last. “It’s your life, you make your own choices. I’m with you.” He smiled and ruffled her hair.

Praveena looked at him in surprise as he switched on the television again.