Tell Me...

 

 

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