TELL
ME…
(Part
4. The End. Or. The Beginning.)
“Why do you
want to know about…that…now?”
“Why not
now?”
“It’s not
something parents tell their kids. All I got to know was that my parents did
not meet before their wedding and, on their wedding night, my mother slept on
the floor and my father on the bed.”
“That was
then.”
“It feels
like a death-bed talk. And, I’m not ready for that.”
“Don’t joke!”
“Don’t you
have to attend German, or is it French, classes?”
“I will.
After this.”
“But…”
“Look, the
entrance exams are over. In a month or two, I will go to some college. We will be
seeing a lot less of each other. Now might be our last chance for this talk.”
“You don’t
have to make it so morbid.”
“Appa!”
“I still
don’t…”
“Yeah, you
won’t. I am the one who had a loving mother till the age of three. And I can’t
remember any of that. There aren’t even any photos. Then, she died. And I have
had only you since then.”
“Are you complaining?”
“No. What
the…yes, I am complaining. I need more!”
“It’s in my
stories.”
“I know the
fictitious part.”
“Not all of
it.”
“I know that
too.”
“Ok, what do
you want to know?”
“Everything,
the ugly stuff too.”
“A father
can’t tell his daughter the beautiful parts.”
“I will fill
in those parts from your stories.”
“This won’t
end well.”
“Your stories
never do.”
“Where should
I start?”
“How you two
fell in love…”
“If ours had
been love at first sight, I could have finished this off before you can say
cuckoo.”
“It wasn’t?
In all your stories…”
“For two
years, or was it three, we remained strangers who did not even bother to be
acquaintances. I used to admire her walk. Even when we were put in the same
office, we did not talk to each other for months. It might not be right to
generalize but that might be true for a lot of relationships that develop into
something more substantial. A few might find their one in an instant. For
others, circumstances have to fit. It might be a pointless exercise to analyse
tropes about falling in love. But one has to wonder if love at first sight or
enemy to friend to love seems a bit too convenient.”
“Don’t go
into literary criticism.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Were you…did
you have someone else then?”
“I was too
poor even to have friends.”
“Nice excuse.
Weren’t you poor even when you got to know her?”
“You don’t
have to be Sherlock spotting the faults.”
“You don’t
have to dodge inconvenient stuff.”
“Not
inconvenient…just embarrassing.”
“Go on.”
“There were a
few I liked. But, without scope.”
“Without
scope?”
“No future.”
“Problems
with them?”
“Not really.
Lovely girls. They were great friends. With one, I would have had to migrate.
With another, I would have had to…”
“You are
lying.”
“No, I swear.
They were lovely girls with some inconvenience or other.”
“That might
be true.”
“And, they were
not interested.”
“But…you are
lying about your indifference towards them.”
“Indifference?
Never that. Disinterest, maybe.”
“Out with it.”
“As I said
before, there are stuff a father can’t discuss with his daughter.”
“There was no
sex between you and those girls.”
“Saraswathi!”
“Don’t try
the prude act with me, Mr. Father.”
“I should
have disowned you long back.”
“Sometimes, I
feel like a fatherless child…”
“That’s my
story, definitely not yours.”
“That story I
know. Stick to this one. So, am I right?”
“Yes. How did
you guess?”
“In all your
stories, you…”
“Me?”
“The guy who
is you…it’s either Jekyll or Hyde in a sexual way. Highly oversexed or
pathetically impotent.”
“So?”
“By that
stage of your life, you must have realized that reality about yourself.”
“What
reality?”
“You won’t
give too much of your time to a lady who does not interest you sexually.”
“You make me
sound like a pervert.”
“Don’t worry,
I too am like that.”
“Girl, have
you done something I should know about?”
“No, Appa. I have
your other problem too.”
“My other
problem?”
“Oversexed
you might be but you don’t believe in casual sex.”
“Oh, I do!
It’s the other party’s fault.”
“Yeah,
yeah…don’t digress.”
“You did.”
“I know. It
was a note to myself. So, you were a moping loner. How about her?”
“When I got
to know her…of her…when I joined that Institute, she had a boyfriend. Then, a
year or two later, she got married.”
“To that
boyfriend?”
“No, to
another…arranged.”
“Why?”
“The
boyfriend wasn’t ready, I guess. Idiot!”
“So, she was
married when you…? It’s in one of your stories.”
“In that, she
is married and I have a partner.”
“A double
cheat for literary effect.”
“We were not
cheating.”
“Oh, come
on.”
“No, really.
She wanted to get out of the terrible marriage.”
“It’s cheating
if you have sex with another even if one’s marriage is at that stage.”
“We did not
have sex then. You were not born then.”
“I don’t buy
that platonic crap.”
“It wasn’t
platonic.”
“Now, you are
confusing.”
“We expressed
our interest. We did not act on it then. That’s all.”
“When was
this?”
“Late
nineties.”
“Ah, the
Clinton years! Now I get it.”
“Don’t be
crude.”
“It’s not
crude. You hiding stuff is just pathetic.”
“I’m not
hiding. It’s just difficult. Come on, give me a break, will you?”
“Ok. Did you
fall in love with her during the crying scene?”
“What crying
scene?”
“The one you
keep repeating in your stories. You finding her crying in office and you like
an idiot telling her that others might misconstrue the situation.”
“That was
just funny me trying to be funny.”
“Did she
actually smile when you said that?”
“She laughed.
She was a sweet lady. Not at all like her daughter.”
“So, was it
then you fell in love?”
“Hey
Torquemada, don’t rush things.”
“Then, when?”
“I don’t
know.”
“You don’t
know?”
“Even on her
birthday, when I gave her a gift and a poem for the first time, I am not sure
we were in love with each other. We were close.”
“Close?”
“Yes, very close.
I knew all about her troubles. We talked about everything. Sex and all. We
could have been just best friends even then. To tell you the truth, I just
don’t remember.”
“You are
lying.”
“No, my kid,
I am not. The timeline is a bit fuzzy. Someone must have made us realize that
we should talk to each other when we occupied the same office, when it was just
us in that room mostly. I was just her friend for some time, a long time.
Gradually, I became the best friend or confidante trying to make her marriage
work. Then, I stopped playing devil’s advocate and became the best friend forever
who took her problems very seriously. We became lovers…without the…”
“Just two
people together due to circumstances and need…no fireworks?”
“Well…”
“See…you are
hiding…”
“We did not
hide our lust for each other. That’s all I can say about that.”
“Ok, I will
fill in those blanks with stuff from your stories. The groping in public
places, the stuff in private…”
“Don’t make
it too risqué.”
“Wasn’t it?
Bet there were many blue-ball moments.”
“Girl!”
“Don’t girl
me. When you can’t be open. Fine, what happened then?”
“She
divorced, we lived together, you happened, she died. End of story.”
“Oh no, you
don’t get to finish it off that easily.”
“That’s all
there was to it. Not really short story stuff with an interesting denouement.”
“I happened.”
“I agree
that’s a passable climax.”
“I want more
than that summary.”
“I would give
you more if I could remember the details…wait…”
“What?”
“So, that’s
why you want to know now?”
“Why?”
“You think I
am forgetting it all. That I’m losing it.”
“It’s a risk
for anyone. Even me.”
“Have I
forgotten other stuff…other important stuff?”
“I don’t
know, Appa. You are increasingly…”
“Forgetful?”
“By choice.
That’s my problem.”
“Ah.”
“Yes, ah!”
“It’s just
how it is. Even back then, I wasn’t good with dates. The day we kissed, the day
she left. Even then, the events got mixed up in my head. It could be because of
my writing. I mix-n-match the past for a better plot.”
“Is it just that?”
“I don’t
know. Freud or Jung might say there’s something else at play. Guilt. Or
whatever.”
“Guilt?”
“Imagine her
situation. She was under a lot of stress when I entered her life.”
“Every girl’s
life.”
“Could be.”
“Why should
you feel guilty about that? You were there for her.”
“Hmmm. I
was.”
“Come on,
Appa.”
“We were…I
was passionate. Yeah, I could be that. Don’t look so surprised. At times, we
were just happy to hold each other. To sleep together. It’s the other stuff. I
didn’t force anything on her. But can anyone under such stress be capable of
giving consent with proper thought?”
“That way, no
consent is legit.”
“But…”
“Don’t think
too much about that. I’m sure she wanted to be with you, do whatever you two
did.”
“Thanks.”
“But…something
else happened. Something you are not telling me.”
“Nothing,
really.”
“Why didn’t
you two get married?”
“She had a
job. I didn’t. Still doing the postdoctoral circuit. Marriage did not seem
important.”
“Why was she
erased after her death?”
“She was not
erased. Never will be. I had to focus on you. With any reminder of her, I would
have faltered.”
“In all your
stories, she is the dead one who is never dead.”
“Yes, she
will be that way. Always.”
“Is she
dead?”
“Of course.
What a question!”
“You are
lying.”
“I am not…”
“Think twice
before lying.”
“Is that a
threat?”
“Yes.”
“But…why?”
“I don’t
know. I just know you are lying.”
“I…”
“Appa!”
“Fu…”
“We don’t use
such words in this house.”
“That’s my
line, lady.”
“Well? Are
you going to tell me or not?”
“Why do you
have to be like me in such situations and not like her?”
“Don’t even
try evading.”
“Oh God…”
“That bad?”
“I think this
is the end of a beautiful friendship.”
“Please…no
Casablanca…now…”
“She is not dead.”
“What?”
“She is not
dead.”
“You are
joking, right?”
“Huh?”
“Appa…”
“She left us
when you were three.”
“Left…?”
“Went abroad.”
“Didn’t she
like having me?”
“Don’t ever
think that.”
“Then, what?”
“She loved
you a lot. She loved me too. But…that does not make up one’s life, does it? You
have seen me when I can’t write.”
“You are
miserable then.”
“Yes, my dear
Saraswathi. She was good at her job. Very good. She had lots to do in that
field. She would have been wasted out here.”
“You could have
gone with her.”
“I didn’t
want to.”
“Not even for
me?”
“Not even for
you.”
“You were
both selfish. Why didn’t she take me?”
“Then, I
would have had to go with her.”
“So, stay
here with you and me and screw her career. Or, take me and drag you along
against your wish. Or, leave me with you and chase a career.”
“Sums it up.”
“And you
still love her?”
“Not in the
old way. Anyway, now, it’s all water under the bridge. She is still the best
woman I knew…”
“Best, my
foot! Left a kid for a career?”
“Don’t be an
idiot, Saraswathi.”
“Me idiot?
Left motherless and I am the idiot?”
“Idiot for
spouting nonsense.”
“Really?”
“Family,
parenting, dreams…life is complicated. Don’t apply rules.”
“But there
should be.”
“Yes, we
followed one rule. You were and are our top priority. She knew I would be there
for you. And I knew she would be there for you if I could not be there. But…”
“But?”
“But we have
our lives too. We accepted the best compromise. For you. You may not agree.
Now.”
“Will she
accept me now?”
“Ah!”
“Ah what?”
“She has…a
family.”
“Wow, she’s
only getting better.”
“What did you
expect? Yes, she went there. Yes, she is a wonderful lady. Yes, she was lucky
to meet the right guy there. Yes, she has kids with him. Yes, if you go to her
now, she will love you and fit you in.”
“Without
you.”
“I will be
here for you.”
“Why didn’t
she want to be a part of my life after going abroad?”
“She wanted
to. I didn’t think it was a good idea. I wanted you to have a steady life. I
knew we would have our separate lives. She with some new man, new family. Me
with someone.”
“But, you
never…”
“My problem.”
“Didn’t find
the right girl for Hyde?”
“Jekyll
probably decides everything now.”
“Not because
of me?”
“Never.”
“Liar.”
“Any other
lies you need to know?”
“This will do
for now.”
“Good.”
“Old man, I
think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
“Bah!
Casablanca sounds better from me.”
“Bah!”
Part 3: https://justoneavatar.blogspot.com/2022/06/tell-me-part-3.html
Part 2: https://justoneavatar.blogspot.com/2022/05/tell-mepart-2.html
Part 1: https://justoneavatar.blogspot.com/2022/05/tell-me-part-1.html
