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‘Now?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’
I exchanged a look.
‘I will go in now.’
Ravi Singh looked exasperatedly at me and, before I could stop him, he had opened the door and announced my arrival to Purva.
Scared and anxious I stood at the door with no idea of how the night would end.
11.10 p.m.
Purva’s usually cheerful office was eerily quiet and dark, except for a lone lamp that lit his table. He sat there, my crossword in his hand, his face expressionless. On seeing me, he put on his glasses and got up.
I swallowed hard.
Being goofy, fooling around, silly antics – all of that came naturally to me. This did not. Not at all. I cleared my throat. As I mustered up courage, the image of an angry Purva dragging me out of this room flashed out of nowhere and I shut my mouth.
My throat felt dry. The room was too warm. My cheeks felt very hot. My heart beat too fast.
Purva, meanwhile, had come up to me.
‘How can I help you?’ he asked formally, his face giving away nothing. Had he told me to get lost, I would have, without giving this matter another thought, about-turned and left. That is how much I wanted to avoid what I knew was on its way: a confrontation.
I said nothing. I stood still. Not because I wanted to but because I was singularly incapable of either movement or words.
‘Umm…’ I ventured after a little bit.
Purva looked questioningly at me, his x-ray-like eyes scanning my face so intently that I felt like I did not belong in my own skin.
I looked down at my hands, at the carpet, at my shoes, at his shoes … and then my mind wandered … wandered to Purva … I began to imagine how it would have felt to be in his place – to have loved someone with such honesty and have her do what I did to him. How would he have told his family that I did not want him? The friends, relatives, colleagues … the embarrassment, the sorrow, the heartbreak. And yet, he had come when Dad had needed him. How difficult would that have been?
‘Purva…’ I said, looking up to see him still gazing at me. ‘I’m sorry, Purva,’ I said, looking down and trying to gulp away the tears that now threatened to spill over.
Purva looked away. I gently pulled his face towards mine, faltered for a minute when I saw his eyes all red, gathered myself and said, ‘I am sorry, Purva. I am very sorry.’
‘Go away, Kasturi,’ he said, turning away again.
‘I will, I promise I will, but just let me tell you a few things … one last time? Please?’ I begged.
Reluctantly Purva turned to face me.
‘I am sorry, Purva, for all the hurt and the pain. I was scared … very scared … and confused. I could have talked it out with you, Mum, Dad anyone … but I chose to do the one thing I should not have. I hurt you. But I love you. I love so much more than I thought I did … and it took all this for me to figure that out. You don’t hurt people you love… but I did and I am sorry.’
Purva shook his head, his face giving away nothing.
‘I wish I could go back to the past and change what I did. But I can’t. So I have no choice but to live with the consequences … I have no one to blame but myself.’
Purva stood still, looking down now.
‘Can you forgive me, Purva?’ I asked, my voice cracking now, afraid that I knew the answer.
