‘Oh, he’s bound to write soon,’ said Lata, rather too off-handedly for Mrs Rupa Mehra’s taste.
She was proved to be correct the next day, sooner than she herself had expected.
When Mrs Rupa Mehra saw an envelope in Haresh’s by now familiar handwriting in the mail, she insisted that Lata open it immediately and read out its contents to her. Lata refused. Kakoli and Meenakshi, delighted to be in on the scene, snatched the letter from the table and began to tease Lata. Lata snatched it back from Kakoli, rushed into her room, and locked the door. She did not emerge for more than an hour. She read the letter, and replied to it without consulting anyone. Mrs Rupa Mehra was extremely annoyed by her daughter’s insubordination, and also at Meenakshi and Kakoli.
‘Think of Pran,’ she said. ‘This excitement is not good for his heart.’
Kakoli sang out, so that the sound could be heard on the other side of the locked door:
‘Sweetest Lata, have a heart!
Come and kiss me. Don’t be tart.’
When she heard no response to this crass creation, she continued:
‘Let me kiss your hands, my queen:
Softest pigskin I have seen.’
Mrs Rupa Mehra was about to shout at Kakoli, but the baby began yowling and distracted everyone on that side of the door. Lata continued to read in noisy peace.
Haresh’s letter was as straightforward as usual. After mentioning the bad news, he went on to write:
It can be no easy time for you with Pran’s illness and by now maybe his baby too, so I feel sorry to burden you with the news I have given above. But I had to write to you today under the very great stress of circumstances. So far I have heard nothing by way of reconsideration from Mr Clayton of James Hawley, and I am now not quite so hopeful that anything will happen in that direction. It was a fine job fetching Rs. 750/- per month all told, but I have not yet lost hopes entirely. I feel that they will realize the injustice of the whole thing. But perhaps with my resignation from CLFC I have indeed fallen between two stools. Mr Mukherji, the General Manager, is a fine man but Mr Ghosh, it seems, is dead set against me.
Yesterday I was with Kalpana for over two hours when you were the only topic of discussion. I do not know how much of my feelings I could hide, for the thought of you was exciting.
Excuse this scribbling pad. I have none other at my disposal at the moment. Kalpana says she has written to your mother about my news, and that I must write to you today – and I have been feeling the same myself.
I have an interview later in the month in Indore (with the State Public Service Commission) for a Small Scale Industry job. And it may be that the Praha matter will work out. At least if I can meet Mr Khandelwal through the good offices of Mr Mukherji, I am sure I will get a job interview in Calcutta. There are however a few things that you shall have to decide:
1. Whether you would like me to go to Calcutta via Brahmpur, given so many different factors including your brother-in-law’s illness.
2. Whether in my unemployed position you think I am the same as before – i.e. whether you think you could be quite happy in considering me as someone you could care for.
I hope that your mother does not take this too seriously – there are other jobs in the offing I am sure, and it will not take too long to fix up.
Somehow I feel there is a lot of good in my present position – being unemployed gives one a better insight into human character and gives the right value to the right things. I hope Pran is better. Remember me to the family. I shall write again soon.
Yours,
Haresh
13.24
NOTHING could have brought out Lata’s warmth and tenderness more effectively than this letter. She felt very bad for Haresh, particularly at the thought that there might be a great deal of anxiety behind his brave front. If she had problems, so had he, and far more pressing ones. Yet instead of allowing himself to get depressed by his misfortune, he claimed to see advantages in it. Lata felt a little ashamed of herself for not behaving in a more robust manner in the face of emotional adversity.
She wrote back:
My dear Haresh,
Your letter came today and I am replying immediately. Yesterday Ma got a letter from Kalpana. Ever since then I have been wanting to write to you, but I felt I couldn’t till I had heard the news directly from you. You must believe that it doesn’t make any difference to me. Affection doesn’t depend on things like jobs. It is unfortunate that you should have missed such a good chance at James Hawley – it really is a very good firm – I should think almost the best. Anyway, don’t worry. Everything happens for the best – and, as you say, there is still hope – nothing like going on trying. I feel sure something will emerge.