They hollered at an empty cab passing by. Shashi got in first, followed by Aditi. The taxi started slowly, manoeuvring through the traffic, taking Sovabazar Street. They were going to Aditi’s apartment on Southern Avenue, which was at the other end of the city.

The two sat looking out of the window. Then Shashi turned towards Aditi and asked, “So what are your plans now? Any plans to...of...I mean, do you have any plans to settle down any time soon?”

Aditi turned and asked, “Do you mean if I am planning to get married or not?”

Shashi laughed and replied, “No, no, I dare not ask that; if you had, you would have already told me about it.”

The taxi turned right onto Rabindra Sarani.

Aditi asked, “Do you know the name of this road?”

“Yes...it is Chitpur Road.”

“That is only for people like you, not for people like me.”

Shashi gave a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Calcutta Corporation changed the name of this road to Rabindra Sarani long ago,” she smiled.

“Oh, is it?”

“Just a few minutes ago, you asked me what I will do from now on, so here is my answer. I will walk the path of Rabi and look at the coincidence; we are currently travelling on the road named after him.”

“Oh, I see,” Shashi smiled. “That was a remote inference for someone coming to the city after so many years,” he replied.

After a pause, Shashi asked again, “No, but on a serious note, I wanted to know your plans.”

Aditi tried to give a straightforward and honest answer this time. “Aah...what are my plans now...Frankly, I do not know. The realisation has not yet sunk in that just six months from today, we will be leading separate lives even on paper...” She stopped.

Aditi looked out of the window. Rabi’s image flashed in front of her eyes again. She thought, “They who are near to me do not know that you are nearer to me than they are. They who speak to me do not know that my heart is full with your unspoken words. They who crowd in my path do not know I am walking alone with you. They who love me do not know that their love brings you to my heart.

I have loved you all my life, Rabi, and would merge into you by giving my all. The man I love, whom I thought to be closest to you, turned out to be only a poet and idealist. But you are all to me; I have always imagined you as my lover and companion who understands me and takes me the way I am. Shashi is only a poet who lives for his creations. Rabi, I will anchor to your image that I have at heart and accept your widowhood.

“In the end, my love has returned to you like a full circle. ‘They come with their laws and their codes to bind me fast, but I evade them ever, for I am only waiting for love to give myself up at last into your hands.’”

Aditi turned towards Shashi and said, “This morning, standing in front of Rabi’s photo, I decided to live the life of a widow. I will be Rabi’s widow, will accept Rabi’s widowhood and spend the rest of my life.” She looked up to see straight into Shashi’s eyes, “I see him in all works of mine. I have loved him all my life, and my devotion to him has only increased over time. So, I think rightfully I should live the remaining days as Rabi’s widow and carry forward his work and perhaps there I can merge in him.”

Then, with a smile, she added, “And it has one more advantage...Rabi cannot run away from me as you did, whether he likes me or not.”

“What! I do not know what to say. I can understand what you are trying to say...I just do not have the right words.” Shashi’s unhappiness was loud and clear in his tone. “It is your life and you decide...”

Aditi smiled and said, “I know it is hard for any husband that his wife wants to live like a widow of someone else, however ethereal that is, right?”

“Not sure, but all I can say is your love for me was all etched on the sand, and so it could be wiped out so easily from the mind. A sudden sense of futility is engulfing me right now – did I waste all my life running after things whose real worth was near to nothing? What about the tribal people? Would they, too, forget me as soon as I am gone? Maybe,” he said, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Shashi softly said, drawing a deep breath, and recited Tagore’s poem:

Lord of my being, has your wish been fulfilled in me?
Days have passed without service and nights without love.
Flowers have dropped into the dust and have not been
gathered for your acceptance.
The harp strings strung with your own hands have
slackened and lost their notes.
I slept in the shadow of your garden and forgot to water
your plants.
Is the time over now, my lover? Have we come to the end
of this play?
Then let the bell ring of departure, let the morning come
for the freshening of love.
Let the knot of a new life be tied for us in a new bridal
bond.

Excerpted with permission from Yet, Remember Me, Pinaki Gangopadhyay, Bloomsbury India.