The Name of a Relationship
The sound of the conch echoed across the city in the evening. No matter how modern the city becomes, it never forgets to blow the conch at dawn and dusk. Holding on to the old while embracing the new—that has always been this city's habit. And along with it, it carries countless memories of the past within its heart.
Seeing the mother and daughter in tears, Kushal thought to himself that it was best not to interfere in their personal matters. So, as he opened the door to step outside, he found Pratap standing there with tear-filled eyes.
Joya hadn't locked the door, distracted by her daughter's crying, and Pratap had heard everything while standing beside the slightly open door.
As Kushal tried to walk past, Pratap placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "Since you've already seen this much, stay and see the rest. Come, I've brought chicken chowmin for everyone—eat before you go."
Just as much as Joya loves Kushal, Pratap loves him too. Even at forty-five, Pratap's tall, strong frame still carries the charm of a twenty-year-old. Kushal often feels that Pratap could easily get married again even at this age. While Kushal attracts people with his words, Pratap does so with his personality.
Kushal said, "No, no, uncle, I'll eat later. I'm not feeling well today."
But like Joya, Pratap is not someone who gives up easily. Holding Kushal's hand, he pulled him inside and shut the door.
Pratap has never taken things too seriously. No matter how much pain he carries, he never lets anyone see it—he always appears normal on the outside.
The three people in this house share the same nature. They all suppress their pain, twisting inside, yet keep smiling on the outside.
Today was no exception.
Placing four half plates of chicken chowmin on the table, Pratap casually said, "Apu? Joya? There's chicken chowmin. Will you eat?"
Apu said nothing. Though Pratap expected a response, he tried to speak again, but Joya, without even looking at him, said, "Pratap, pack your clothes. You no longer have a place in my house. Please, set me free."
Pratap smiled faintly and said, "Is freedom that easy? Can one get it just by wishing? I want freedom too… but where do I get it?"
Jaya stood up and looked at him sternly. "I'm giving you your freedom, Pratap. Let me live with my daughter. We are happy, we are doing fine. We don't need you anymore in our lives."
Pratap's eyes trembled. His throat tightened with unshed tears. In a choked voice, he said,
"I've survived fifteen–sixteen years listening to all this. I'll spend the rest of my life hearing the same if I have to. I know you don't need me… but I need you both very much, Jaya."
Thereafter he looking at Apu, and said, "What about you, Apu? Don't you need me anymore either? So easily, with Pu, you fulfilled your needs… and cast me aside like a stranger?"
Apu didn't seem to hear anything that day. She gave no reply, though her father had hoped for one.
Jaya crying and said, "You have a family—your wife, your son. Go and stay with them, Pratap. Apu is growing up. I don't want her to hear all these taunts anymore."
Pratap's red eyes revealed the turmoil within. The veins on his forehead stood out, showing how hard he was trying to hold back his pain. He said,
"Do I even have a family anymore? I've fulfilled all my responsibilities towards them, and I will continue to do so in the future. And after all these years, you don't need to worry about my family. Remember this, Jaya—whether I stay with you or not, you will still have to hear these things. Because people rarely apply balm to wounds—they prefer to rub salt on them."
Jaya replied, "I have endured it, Pratap. I still do. But should my daughter endure it too? Please, don't come here anymore. Remember, one man cannot manage two families in one life. If you try to stand on two boats, one day both will sink."
Pratap said, "Jaya, try to understand. I cannot live without you."
Jaya smiled faintly and said,
"Every relationship in society carries a name, Pratap. Can you tell me—what is the name of our relationship?"
Pratap looked at her. Two drops of tears rolled down from his hardened eyes. His trembling lips whispered,
"Love, Jaya. The name of our relationship is love."
Jaya remained silent for a while. Everyone was silent. A familiar stillness filled the room. Kushal stood in one corner, watching.
After about five minutes, Jaya said,
"In society, there is no relationship called love, Pratap. Love may be attached to the name of every relationship—but love alone can never define one. To them, I am known as your mistress… and my daughter is the child of a mistress."
Her words pierced Pratap's heart like a spear. He couldn't answer another word. With tearful eyes, he went inside, packed his clothes into a bag, and walked out.
As he left, he said only one thing—
"Jaya, I love you both very much… just the same… if only you had loved me.If you loved me, dear."
Continue....