Indrani noticed Captain Mehra as he appeared at the wicket gate. She was taken by surprise, so much so that she halted midway in her sentence. Then she resumed, self-consciously. Captain Mehra entered the premises, not betraying his nervousness. He sat down under a banyan tree and watched the proceedings.
That’s enough for today, said Indrani after a while and no sooner had she said the words, the children shot up from the floor as one unit and scrambled in every direction. Within seconds the school had emptied. A quiet descended; a forest kind of quiet, with bird-song the only sounds that echoed in the vastness. Indrani sat down on the chabutra under the tree Ipsita had called the principal’s office. She looked forlorn, drained. After a few minutes, she collected her books and got up. Captain Mehra walked up to her.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello, Captain,” said Indrani, locking her room. She dropped the key in her handbag and looked at him with a blank face. “A pleasant surprise.”
“I can explain,” said Captain Mehra.
“Explain what?” she said, displaying bewilderment.
“Can we talk?”
“If you wish,” she said and started to walk.
“I want to tell you something. What you saw yesterday isn’t what it appeared to be.”
“How do you mean?”
“I...I mean, it’s not how it looked.”
Indrani smiled. “And how did it look?”
“You know very well, Indrani, what I mean.”
“Look, Captain. I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m happy for my sister too.”
“You’ve got it wrong.”
“Have I?” she said mockingly.
“I don’t know how it happened. Maybe, maybe I was tired or something.”
“She certainly looked tired,” laughed Indrani. “Poor thing slept like a log.”
Captain Mehra became silent. He couldn’t be sure if Indrani was faking her coolness. She didn’t look perturbed at all.
“Cheer up, Captain,” she said, “I shall be seeing you around. Good luck.”
“It was a horrible mistake,” said Captain Mehra, following her. She was taking hurried strides. He ran up and blocked her path.
“A mistake,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“What do you mean, Captain – a mistake.”
“Don’t pretend, Indrani, please. It was a terrible, terrible mistake.”
Indrani said, almost in a whisper, “You know, Captain, you shouldn’t have said that.”
The Captain noticed a sudden change come over her. “Please, Indrani, believe me. It meant nothing to me. Nothing. I couldn’t control my actions. It was all so sudden. One moment we were talking and another...”
This time Indrani didn’t hold back. “I don’t need to know. You”re talking about my sister here. You realise that?” She closed her eyes.
“But...”
“Stop. Just let me go.”
“I don’t love her, Indrani. I really don’t.”
“Don’t tell me this. What’s it got to do with me?” She tried to make her way around the Captain but he was blocking her path..
“I need to go, and you are in my path,” she said agitatedly.
“I always saw her as a friend, Indrani, nothing more. I don’t love her.”
“Captain!”
“I-, I-love you. Yes, you.”
“Shut up,” she said.
“I love you. I have always loved you, not Ipsita.”
“Don’t say another word.”
Captain Mehra went quiet. His admission had taken a lot out of him, but strangely he felt more relaxed now. He sensed the storm was over.
“It is you that I love, Indrani, no one else.”
“You’ve got some way of showing it.”
“No one feels more terrible about it than I do. Can you not see? Can you not see my state?”
“What’s to be done about it? I congratulate you and wish you the very best in your life. Can I go now, please?”
“Stop it, Indrani. Look at me. I’m a wreck. I...I don’t know how it happened. Can you not believe for one moment that I’m telling the truth? I couldn’t stop my body. I lost control. I lost control of my mind, my true feelings.”
“I haven’t heard anything more pathetic,” said Indrani. “Now, I must leave.” There was resolve in her voice and the way that she said it, and Captain Mehra instinctively moved aside. She started to walk away in a hurry, not once looking back.
“I don’t love her, Indrani. I love you,” said Captain Mehra from where he stood. Something made her stop and turn. She came up to him and said, viciously, “You don’t love her but you can make love to her. Is that what you are telling me?”
“Yes,” he blurted out, and only then realised how shallow it sounded.
“No,” he said hastily, “I meant – what I meant, Indrani, is that it is you that I love. I made a terrible mistake. I froze and let my body take over my mind. Please forgive me.”
“How can you say that? How easy it is for you to say that – that you lost control over your body. I suppose it’s quite common for people to say this from where you come.”
He shook his head in frustration. “I’m not very good at explaining things, Indrani. But what’s there to explain if I tell someone that I love her?”
“Oh, right,” she smirked, “Ever heard of a word called trust?”
He was silent.
“You don’t know what love is, Captain. You don’t know what true love is. You can’t understand that sex is just a small part of this thing called love.”
“My point exactly. So please forget it, forget my dreadful mistake.”
Even Captain Mehra felt that was a strange argument, more so when in response Indrani took a sharp intake of air. “I can’t believe you just said that. You still don’t get it, do you, Captain. It could've been a nice thing. It could've gone forward. But you ruined it, Captain. You don’t know what love is, and you don’t know what trust is either.”
“So you will never forgive me – is that it?” he said, trying to hide the irritation in his voice as best as he could. But she caught it. “You have the nerve to talk to me like this?”
“No, Indrani, please wait. Don’t leave, please.”
“Look... You’ve ruined what could’ve been between us. Love is like a sheet of paper. You crumple it and it can never return to its pristine state. And what’s more, by telling me that you don’t love Ipsita, by telling me that you don’t love my sister, you have ruined her happiness, too.”
He was stunned to hear that.
“You have ruined two lives. I was about to say three – to include yours. But I don’t think you care. This is normal for you, perhaps.”
‘That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Indrani, please, I know you are hurt, but how else can I put it across to you that I don’t love Ipsita and I love only you?”
Her eyes had welled up with tears and were shimmering and he thought she’d cry any moment.
“Indrani,” he said, “Can you tell me how I can be forgiven? From the woman I love so much?”
“It’s hardly been three days since we met.”
“Does it need years, to fall in love?”
She was silent.
“I must go now,” she said after a while, and before he could stop her or say anything more she was gone.
He watched her disappear slowly along the shrouded trail.
He slumped to the ground, not prepared to take his eyes away from the green opening Indrani had vanished into.
“Ruined,” he said out loud. “She said ruined. Ruined, she said.”
Excerpted with permission from For Love and Honour, Anand Ranganathan, Bloomsbury India.
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That’s enough for today, said Indrani after a while and no sooner had she said the words, the children shot up from the floor as one unit and scrambled in every direction. Within seconds the school had emptied. A quiet descended; a forest kind of quiet, with bird-song the only sounds that echoed in the vastness. Indrani sat down on the chabutra under the tree Ipsita had called the principal’s office. She looked forlorn, drained. After a few minutes, she collected her books and got up. Captain Mehra walked up to her.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello, Captain,” said Indrani, locking her room. She dropped the key in her handbag and looked at him with a blank face. “A pleasant surprise.”
“I can explain,” said Captain Mehra.
“Explain what?” she said, displaying bewilderment.
“Can we talk?”
“If you wish,” she said and started to walk.
“I want to tell you something. What you saw yesterday isn’t what it appeared to be.”
“How do you mean?”
“I...I mean, it’s not how it looked.”
Indrani smiled. “And how did it look?”
“You know very well, Indrani, what I mean.”
“Look, Captain. I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m happy for my sister too.”
“You’ve got it wrong.”
“Have I?” she said mockingly.
“I don’t know how it happened. Maybe, maybe I was tired or something.”
“She certainly looked tired,” laughed Indrani. “Poor thing slept like a log.”
Captain Mehra became silent. He couldn’t be sure if Indrani was faking her coolness. She didn’t look perturbed at all.
“Cheer up, Captain,” she said, “I shall be seeing you around. Good luck.”
“It was a horrible mistake,” said Captain Mehra, following her. She was taking hurried strides. He ran up and blocked her path.
“A mistake,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“What do you mean, Captain – a mistake.”
“Don’t pretend, Indrani, please. It was a terrible, terrible mistake.”
Indrani said, almost in a whisper, “You know, Captain, you shouldn’t have said that.”
The Captain noticed a sudden change come over her. “Please, Indrani, believe me. It meant nothing to me. Nothing. I couldn’t control my actions. It was all so sudden. One moment we were talking and another...”
This time Indrani didn’t hold back. “I don’t need to know. You”re talking about my sister here. You realise that?” She closed her eyes.
“But...”
“Stop. Just let me go.”
“I don’t love her, Indrani. I really don’t.”
“Don’t tell me this. What’s it got to do with me?” She tried to make her way around the Captain but he was blocking her path..
“I need to go, and you are in my path,” she said agitatedly.
“I always saw her as a friend, Indrani, nothing more. I don’t love her.”
“Captain!”
“I-, I-love you. Yes, you.”
“Shut up,” she said.
“I love you. I have always loved you, not Ipsita.”
“Don’t say another word.”
Captain Mehra went quiet. His admission had taken a lot out of him, but strangely he felt more relaxed now. He sensed the storm was over.
“It is you that I love, Indrani, no one else.”
“You’ve got some way of showing it.”
“No one feels more terrible about it than I do. Can you not see? Can you not see my state?”
“What’s to be done about it? I congratulate you and wish you the very best in your life. Can I go now, please?”
“Stop it, Indrani. Look at me. I’m a wreck. I...I don’t know how it happened. Can you not believe for one moment that I’m telling the truth? I couldn’t stop my body. I lost control. I lost control of my mind, my true feelings.”
“I haven’t heard anything more pathetic,” said Indrani. “Now, I must leave.” There was resolve in her voice and the way that she said it, and Captain Mehra instinctively moved aside. She started to walk away in a hurry, not once looking back.
“I don’t love her, Indrani. I love you,” said Captain Mehra from where he stood. Something made her stop and turn. She came up to him and said, viciously, “You don’t love her but you can make love to her. Is that what you are telling me?”
“Yes,” he blurted out, and only then realised how shallow it sounded.
“No,” he said hastily, “I meant – what I meant, Indrani, is that it is you that I love. I made a terrible mistake. I froze and let my body take over my mind. Please forgive me.”
“How can you say that? How easy it is for you to say that – that you lost control over your body. I suppose it’s quite common for people to say this from where you come.”
He shook his head in frustration. “I’m not very good at explaining things, Indrani. But what’s there to explain if I tell someone that I love her?”
“Oh, right,” she smirked, “Ever heard of a word called trust?”
He was silent.
“You don’t know what love is, Captain. You don’t know what true love is. You can’t understand that sex is just a small part of this thing called love.”
“My point exactly. So please forget it, forget my dreadful mistake.”
Even Captain Mehra felt that was a strange argument, more so when in response Indrani took a sharp intake of air. “I can’t believe you just said that. You still don’t get it, do you, Captain. It could've been a nice thing. It could've gone forward. But you ruined it, Captain. You don’t know what love is, and you don’t know what trust is either.”
“So you will never forgive me – is that it?” he said, trying to hide the irritation in his voice as best as he could. But she caught it. “You have the nerve to talk to me like this?”
“No, Indrani, please wait. Don’t leave, please.”
“Look... You’ve ruined what could’ve been between us. Love is like a sheet of paper. You crumple it and it can never return to its pristine state. And what’s more, by telling me that you don’t love Ipsita, by telling me that you don’t love my sister, you have ruined her happiness, too.”
He was stunned to hear that.
“You have ruined two lives. I was about to say three – to include yours. But I don’t think you care. This is normal for you, perhaps.”
‘That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Indrani, please, I know you are hurt, but how else can I put it across to you that I don’t love Ipsita and I love only you?”
Her eyes had welled up with tears and were shimmering and he thought she’d cry any moment.
“Indrani,” he said, “Can you tell me how I can be forgiven? From the woman I love so much?”
“It’s hardly been three days since we met.”
“Does it need years, to fall in love?”
She was silent.
“I must go now,” she said after a while, and before he could stop her or say anything more she was gone.
He watched her disappear slowly along the shrouded trail.
He slumped to the ground, not prepared to take his eyes away from the green opening Indrani had vanished into.
“Ruined,” he said out loud. “She said ruined. Ruined, she said.”
Excerpted with permission from For Love and Honour, Anand Ranganathan, Bloomsbury India.
