The days that followed Smitakshi’s confrontation with Yashpal seemed to blur into a haze of emotions and stolen moments. It did lead to Smitakshi and me spending more time together, but not in the way that most would think. I helped her with her studies, guiding her through the subjects she struggled with. Yet, no matter how innocent our intentions and such meetings at the college library were, people saw what they wanted to see. And I don’t find fault with them. They were not far from the truth. there was no warning of what was in store for us.
As a precaution, I picked her up from the girl’s hostel and dropped her back every day. There was nothing discreet about it. It was in a message for someone to lay off—a kind of territorial declaration.
On weekends, we ventured into the city, away from the prying eyes of campus. Coffee houses or small, tucked-away restaurants became our sanctuaries—places where we could talk, laugh, and be with each other without the fear of being caught and without the weight of being judged. But even in those quiet moments, the world outside found different ways to intrude.
It was natural for rumours and gossip about the new pairing to hit the campus. Loud whispers of our ‘love story’ were making rounds. While Smitakshi and I tried to ignore it, there was no denying that we were under scrutiny, that there were people waiting in the wings for a chance for a breakup.
Worse still, deep into our conversations some days, we lost track of time. As a result, Smitakshi returned late to the hostel. She would use some pretext to explain and get away with it, but soon, the warden took notice. She warned her, but love has a way of making you ignore the warning and forget the clock—again and again.
And then came the inevitable. She was caught returning late once more, and the warden called her parents for a meeting. For some inane reason and in her desire to be with me, she not only did not inform me of this development but also forgot the date her parents were supposed to visit the campus.
I remember that evening too clearly. We had spent another afternoon together—nothing unusual, just a quiet meal at a small café. But as we returned to her hostel, she remembered the date and realised what blunder she had committed. A warning flashed on her face. She was an hour late for the meeting. Her parents would be waiting, and by now, the warden would have filled them with all the nonsense. She realised she should have waited and met her parents before the meeting.
At the hostel gate, I offered her the support and willingness to come in and meet the warden and her parents. .
She turned to me, her eyes full of worry but still smiling, and confidently stopped me. “Don’t worry. You must leave now. Don’t think of coming in. This is not how you should meet my parents for the first time,” she said quietly. They are… my parents… they’re here. I’ll handle it.”
I wanted to argue, to insist on being by her side, but something in her tone stopped me. I nodded, watching as she walked through the hostel gates alone. The weight of what was coming pressed down on me—it wasn’t just gossip anymore. This was real trouble.
I don’t know how she managed the situation. I have only a third-party version, which says she refused to rise to the bait. The warden talked of her being with me, returning late, etc, which the parents heard. The parents, too, warned her- that another complaint and they would take her away. They also showed faith in her- telling her they know their daughter and that she must not be doing anything wrong. But they are part of a society where it takes no time for a woman’s pride and respect to be shattered. They left her with a warning. The warden grounded her- no more city rides and she was only allowed hostel- campus- hostel and at the most Library visits for the next 15 days.
In that discussion, the dean suggested calling me for a meeting the next day, but Smitakshi vehemently objected. The dean was only trying to help. Being a studious student always in the top ranks, he had a different image of me. He defended me, saying he knew me and that I could not be doing anything else but helping Smitakshi.
Proud Smitakshi never talked about it. She had sheltered me from the episode.
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