Koi asha mom si hai, jo dhoop seh na paaye
Aniruddha was reading a book which he had bought on World War and its effects from College Street, crossing his legs on the bed, and leaning against the pillow. The country was a de facto ally of the British, and yet again, many young men were being called to war. For the crown. As much as it disturbed him, Aniruddha was a little relieved that the consequences of the war were yet to reach the city. Although the city was agitated, mostly with freedom movements, and occasionally with a curfew, it was still safer than most parts of the world. The winter in Calcutta was comparatively less harsh than that of Tulsipur, and he was somehow missing the cold. Even in the last weeks of February, the chills were pleasant. His half-sleeved sweater from London gave him comfort as he pulled the quilt around himself further to relax. After all, Sundays were the only days meant for lazing around at odd hours. Work was going well. He had managed to free three men caught by the Imperial Police due to a lack of evidence against them for their revolutionary activities. With the agitations picking up pace and the biggest countries of the world fighting yet another war, as the radio kept informing of losses and movements, Aniruddha wouldn't have to worry about a lack of clients. It was then, amidst the solitude of his thoughts, that he smelled something burning.
"Hey Bhogoban, look what happened!" Bondita rushed to the kitchen before he did, and took the burnt milk bowl off the stove.
"Careful, don't burn your fingers." He warned from the threshold. Bondita shook her red fingers a little and looked angrily at him.
"I told you I was going to bring the dried clothes down, watch the milk." She rebuked.
"No, you didn't." Aniruddha shook his head. "I didn't even know you were not in the kitchen."
"Only if you paid more attention to my words than that book." She retorted, walking out of the kitchen into the room. He followed to pick up the book from where he left off and resumed reading, only to hear her stomping around the room rather noisily. She was upset. But he genuinely didn't hear her say anything about the milk. He'd have known, especially since the silence was unusual with her around, and he noticed it.
He eyed Bondita in between reading the chapters as she went about folding the washed clothes.
"Come sit with me for a while. I am reading something very interesting." He suggested. Bondita shook her head.
"I have tons of work left. The curtains need to be put in place. The clothes need to go to the istriwala. I have to change the bed sheet once you decide to move from the bed." He saw her stare at him in the last sentence and decided to go back to his book, quietly.
"Sundays are double the work for me." She murmured under her breath as she took a piece of cloth and started dusting around.
"We should hire a maid." He suggested carefully. "You work so much and I help so little."
"Hire a maid?" Bondita looked irked. "What is it with you people?"
"Huh?" Aniruddha looked confused as he tried to figure out who these people were.
"The Roy Chowdhurys can't seem to get stuff done without any house help." She shook her head as she stepped into the kitchen, and he followed. She started cleaning up the mess as she spoke. "Just because you are earning well doesn't mean we indulge. We should save a little."
"I didn't mean we should indulge." Aniruddha frowned. "It's just a house help."
"Do you know how many people live without house help?" Bondita shook her head.
"I have to get all this done, and then I have to study." She put her hand on her head helplessly. "And now, thanks to you, we don't have any milk for tea."
"What did I…?" Aniruddha stopped, alarmed to see Bondita tear up.
"Hai Bhogoban. The day is almost over, and so much needed to be done." She looked around.
"Are you crying?" Aniruddha looked perplexed. "Hold on. Wait." He held her shoulders, making her look up at him, teary-eyed. "You go and study. I will clean up the mess and take the clothes for ironing. I will bring back something to eat for dinner so you can skip making that, and I will put up the curtains."
"You will?" Bondita asked as he nodded.
"Go and study. I will manage." Aniruddha reassured her.
Aniruddha had to leave early on Monday, and Bondita had a college holiday. So he promised to come back for lunch, and Bondita decided to cook something good for him. After all, she had been feeling guilty for ruining his Sunday with her bad mood since morning. So she paid one of the mess boys some money to bring her prawns from the market. She decided Chingri Macher Malaikari would do the magic of an apology that her words couldn't. Washing the prawns carefully, she decided to marinate them. Suddenly, the smell of the fresh prawns bothered her. Bondita blamed it under her breath on the habits of being the Malkin at Tulsipur, instructing the cooks and barely using her hands in unscaling the raw fish. She shook her head and resumed cleaning the prawns. The nauseating feeling refused to go away as she suddenly felt pukish. Keeping the half-done prawns aside, she searched the lower shelf and found a jar of Hojmi. She popped two in and poured some water to drink. Then she resumed the process, pulling the anchol over her nose.
Aniruddha savoured the prawn heartily, making her smile.
"Why are you not eating some?" He asked, looking at the dal and curry on her plate.
"I lost my appetite for it after cooking." She smiled sheepishly. "Are you going back to work?"
"Yes. I may come home late. There is an off-court settlement planned. If it pans out…"
"I was thinking of visiting Sampoorna Didi." He looked up at her words. “I haven’t since the baby arrived.”
"They are at Bina Pishi's house now, right?"
"Yes, ever since they moved there, both Didi and Pishima have called me individually to go. I can't seem to manage any time. Now with the child, she keeps urging me to visit. The studies and the tuition…"
"I will call a rickshaw to take you there." Aniruddha nodded. "I will stop by on my way back. Don't return alone after sundown. It is not safe nowadays." She nodded.
Sampoorna was very happy to see Bondita after a long time.
"I have so much to share." She gushed. Bondita noticed she had gained weight and her face looked tired. But she was also glowing with happiness. It suddenly hit her that in her own busy schedule and studies, she hadn't visited Sampoorna throughout her pregnancy.
"I am so sorry, Didi." Bondita sat down on the bed beside her. " I should have come earlier."
"You didn't. But your gesture did." Sampoorna smiled. Bondita frowned, confused.
"Well. Biraj Ma came by. With these." She opened a box to show some newborn-sized clothes. "And she told me you visited her." Sampoorna smiled. "When my own parents never bothered to know if I was alive or dead after he… You got my second family back." Sampoorna teared up as she hugged Bondita. "How do you care for everyone so much?" Bondita's cheeks were wet with tears as she hugged Sampoorna back. "You were also there for me, Didi."
"Is everything alright?" Sampoorna asked, seeing her cry. "Are you alright?"
"I am. It's just. So much to do around. So little time for everything." Bondita wiped her tears. "You tell me how you feel."
"Sleepless." Sampoorna managed a chuckle. "There are so many changes I can feel. But it's better than what I went through during the pregnancy. Back then, I used to feel nauseated every morning. I was losing the thickness of my hair and often my temper. My skin felt so dry. I lost patience on the most trivial issues, and I was not able to eat fish, let alone tolerate the smell when it was cooked ." She shook her head. "I felt pukish."
"That's… scary." Bondita managed due to a lack of words. "And?"
"And yet when I am holding the child in my arms, a part of me. A part of him. I feel all this is worth it." Sampoorna smiled. Bondita nodded as she caressed the sleeping boy and smiled.
"You know it is odd, I was feeling pukish today too. The prawn was so…" Bondita stopped chuckling as Sampoorna looked a little wide-eyed at her.
"Bondita are you sure… you are not…"
"What?" Bondita shook her head. "No, no." She was embarrassed. "You remember Mashi sends me those medicines, right? I am focused on my studies, and the internship will start soon. We are not really…"
"But sometimes this happens without plans," Sampoorna suggested. "I mean… when did you have your last…."
Bondita narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. "It must be marked on my calendar. I will check. It's not that, Didi." She shook her head, a little scared.
On the way back home with Aniruddha, Bondita was unusually quiet throughout the rickshaw ride. He tried to start a conversation about an interesting case, only to stop at her disinterested monosyllabic replies. As soon as Aniruddha shut the door of the washroom, Bondita walked up to the calendar and turned the page over. Her face turned a little pale as she gulped. She was quick to get back to her books as he came out after a shower and saw her engrossed in her studies.
"You are coming to sleep?" He asked, " You have college tomorrow?"
"I will finish this." She forced a smile. "You go on."
Till late at night, Bondita paced the room, book in hand, engrossed in thought. Ever since the second term started, they have been busy. Her heart skipped a beat. Some of the mornings were very tight schedules, especially if they woke up late. Could she have forgotten her pills on any such morning? She stared at the ajar door of the bedroom and breathed in. First, she needed to be sure.
After college was over, Bondita rushed to the nearest phone booth and dialled Bina Pishima's number, praying that Sampoorna picked it up. She did, and Bondita managed to note down the name and address of her doctor. She decided to lie about college and visit the very next day. On her way back home, Bondita felt extremely guilty for lying to Aniruddha. But she feared his reaction to an uncertain false alarm more. It was better that she made sure and told him on a lighter note. She gathered her justified reasons for lying to him and opened the door of the apartment to find Aniruddha at home.
"Where were you?" He asked. "I went to college, but they said the department shift ended early." He said, folding the newspaper.
"I was… checking on Sampoorna didi." Bondita turned her back on him as she poured some water for herself.
"I hope she is fine?" Aniruddha's question was met with a nod. “And the child?”
"Bondita?"
"Hmm?"
"Is something bothering you?" She looked up at his face, a little pale. "You have been unusually quiet."
"Just tired, I guess." She shrugged, looking away. "I will make some tea. And start studying. We have an important lecture tomorrow."
"Yes, and we need to do well in the finals. It will ensure a good internship." He said, giving her half a hug from behind, putting his arms around her waist. Bondita suddenly jumped, making Aniruddha step back a little, unsure.
"I… need to…" She walked past him into the washroom, keeping Aniruddha wondering.
The doctor's chamber was full of ladies hiding their bumps under the loosely worn dresses and sarees. One of the British Ladies in the waiting area was the only one who was accompanied by her husband. The elite Indians stared at her rather disapprovingly. Who talked of such things with a man? They were glad that the doctor was a lady herself. Bondita suddenly wished someone had accompanied her. She felt lonely looking at the women accompanied by their mothers or mothers-in-law. Brushing away the nervous feeling that made her hands terribly cold, Bondita said a soft prayer as she waited for her turn.
Aniruddha had bought the famous Rashomalai from K.C. Das, especially travelling to Jorasanko for it, hoping to bring a smile to Bondita's face. He had no idea what was going on, but he gathered she was overly stressed from the expectations he had weighed on her shoulders about the results. He cursed himself for doing that. First or second, the goal was to be a good Barrister. He hoped to have a conversation with Bondita, clearing the air that he was proud of her and that she should be focused on learning rather than the ranks. He smiled at the bhar of Rasmalai. Her eyes would light up, surely.
Bondita nervously clasped her hands together as the lady doctor inspected her.
"Hmm." The lady placed her stethoscope down and started scribbling on the prescription.
"When did you have your last menstrual cycle?" She asked as Bondita gulped.
"Two months back." She managed. The lady looked up at her.
"What were you doing last month? Waiting?"
"No… I… didn't notice…" She looked away.
"You work?" The woman made her look up.
"I study. Law."
"That would be tough to handle with a child on the way." She shook her head.
Bondita suddenly felt numb as she stared at the woman. Shouldn't she be worried? Panic-stricken? Happy? She should feel something. Anything. Why was she numb?
"Are you sure?" She asked as the woman looked up at her.
"Ask yourself. You are, too." The woman smiled. "Congratulations."
Aniruddha was pacing the living room, waiting eagerly for Bondita to come home. He had even brought her a new novel. Something to keep her mind off studies for a while, and help her relax. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and rushed to open the door and wait. Bondita walked to the threshold to find the door ajar, and her heart sank.
"There you are." Aniruddha smiled as Bondita spotted him. "Look what I got you."
Bondita eyed the Bhar of Rashomalai kept down on the table. She placed her bag down and looked up at Aniruddha's face. She forced a smile and said
"I should get changed." Aniruddha's smile faded as her voice showed no enthusiasm.
He paced the room as Bondita shut the door of the bedroom behind her.
Sighing like it was hard for her to breathe, Bondita's eyes swelled up in tears she had held back for so long. Aniruddha had big dreams for her. Women didn't dare to dream around her. And she had, perhaps in her own carelessness, jeopardised the dream. Motherhood was something Bondita wasn't unfamiliar with. She had seen Asha, Sampoorna and many girls her age in the village. But she remembered Aniruddha's words about how life was a responsibility. How a woman wasn't physically and mentally ready at a tender age. How tough it was to raise a human being worthy of society. Bondita was scared. She was scared of the feeling; perhaps all women around her waited to feel. Could she even be a good mother? Bondita sighed. For the first time in her life, she had questions, scary, life-changing questions, that only she could answer in the due course of time.
Bondita held her face with her hands and sat down on the floor, sobbing. She tried to be quiet, but her muffled sobs reached beyond the closed doors of the bedroom. Aniruddha stopped pacing, a little alarmed. Was Bondita crying? His heart skipped a beat. A pang of instant guilt hit him. He had perhaps pushed her way too much. He needed to step back. Worried, Aniruddha touched the closed door gently.
"Bondita?" He asked almost in a whisper. "Are you alright?" His knock and words made Bondita stand up, her back against the closed door as she tried in vain to wipe away her tears.
"Bondita?" Aniruddha asked again, this time louder. "Open the door and speak to me."
"No." Came a feeble protest.
"If you don't tell me, how will I know what is wrong? And if I don't, how will we fix it?" Aniruddha looked perplexed. "Open the door."
Bondita sobbed again. He was being so compassionate, and what had she done? Aniruddha frowned, a little frustrated.
"Bondita, if you don't open up, I can break this down. Do you want me to?" Alarmed by his words, Bondita wiped the tears quickly and opened the lock of the door to face him.
"We need to talk." They said in unison. Aniruddha smiled as he stepped toward her and held her shoulders to make her sit down on the edge of the bed.
"I know what you are going to say." He made her heart skip a beat.
"What?" She asked, alarmed. Did Sampoorna didi tell Nikhilda? She sat down on the couch beside him, a little pale.
"Look. When I said we have to top the examination for a good internship, I didn't really mean to put pressure on you." Aniruddha leaned in and held her hand. " It's more important to learn than compete for marks. Your knowledge will help you in the practical world, not your marks. Your education will be your friend in need. So please don't feel pressured because I said something…" he stopped as Bondita stared at him, cluelessly, as if she couldn't figure out what he was talking about. Aniruddha cleared his throat. "I thought that was bothering you."
"I… no…" Bondita moved away a little, removing her hand from his and shifted a little away as Aniruddha sat down beside her, studying her body language with a frown.
"What is bothering you then?" He asked, perplexed. "I have been observing you for days now, and I somehow just know something is upsetting you. Please share with me." Aniruddha almost begged. Bondita looked up at him, teary-eyed.
"I… went to see a doctor." Bondita looked away. Aniruddha suddenly looked worried as he leaned in once again.
"What happened? Are you alright?" He asked, concerned.
"I… missed my cycle and… was feeling nauseated, so Sampoorna didi suggested…" She stopped to study his face. It wore a frown. Bondita gulped as she continued, looking away. "Her doctor…"
"You could have told me. I would have taken you. Is it a lack of iron? Are you anaemic? How many times have I told you to eat right?" He stopped at the faint shake of her head.
"It's not that." Bondita managed as their eyes met. "Barrister babu…"
Aniruddha straightened himself as realisation dawned on him. Bondita looked visibly upset, if not scared. He stood up, taking a few steps back as she looked away and silently left the apartment, making Bondita stare up, confused, at the open door.
Aniruddha was on the empty rooftop, breathing in and out as though he were not able to. He rubbed his sweaty hands together as though he was cold and held them close to his chest as if he felt sick. A sudden rush of emotions made him feel hot inside as drops of precipitation appeared on his forehead, even on a winter evening. He tried to pacify his breathing as he paced the rooftop in the dark. What had he done? He sat down on the floor of the roof, closing his eyes as Bondita's face floated in his mind's eye. She looked tired, unhappy and scared. Obviously, she wanted to concentrate on her studies. She didn't see this coming, did she? Did she blame him? Aniruddha suddenly felt responsible and shallow. He remembered his friends' taunts and how much he had sworn to not let his feelings come in the way of her dream. He remembered every time the woman raised a question about what Bondita's role was as a wife, he had held her hand and made sure they knew he had found exactly what he was looking for. A woman with purpose. Had he caused this? Did he successfully drag her down to mediocrity and the typically expected roles of a wife and mother when he actually didn't want that? Did Bondita feel he wanted it? Aniruddha shook his head to collect his scattered thoughts. There was no way he would let her quit the dream at any cost. But was he even capable of understanding what she was going through emotionally and physically? That day, Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury felt the most helpless than he had ever felt in his life.
Aniruddha closed his eyes as the feeling of claustrophobia crept in. He felt like he was standing in the witness box of a courtroom, and everyone he knew, friends, family, the society that opposed her, and even Bondita were staring at him like a culprit. Aniruddha hid his face in his trembling, cold hands. What should he do now? What would a husband do? What would a mentor do? When the two roles were at a crossroads, which one should he choose to be?
He breathed in, wiping the tears off his cheeks. She needed him. But which role did she expect him to play now? The husband who let her down once or the mentor who guided her through every obstacle?
Bondita held the pillow close to her chest, almost like a hug, as she wept. She had curled up on the bed, sobbing, and the pillow smelled of him. She closed her eyes in vain to compose herself. Bondita, for the first time, didn't know what Aniruddha was thinking, and it bothered her. Did he feel she wanted to stop studying, and did this purposefully? Did he blame her? Did he at all want a child? A child. Bondita sat up in tears and touched her belly with her trembling hands. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as her hand tightened around the pillow she was holding. She tried to compose herself in vain as she gasped for breath amidst her tears.
Aniruddha wiped away the tears and perspiration from his face as he composed himself. There was no point going over what-ifs and maybes now. As scared as he was, Aniruddha also felt guilty. He had unknowingly let Bondita face things alone. That was not what he had vowed to her. Or promised himself. He had a dream for her, and them. But he never wanted that dream to come in the way of their relationship or the relationship to damage the dream. Worse, now he couldn’t help but question himself. Did he push Bondita towards this while she wanted something else out of life? Everyone had their own dreams and choices. Bondita’s life was not about fulfilling his ambitions. He needed to talk to her. But how could he face her?
Bondita sat up on the bed as she felt nauseated from the crying. She crouched her knees close together and wrapped her arms around them. She needed to meet Sampoorna, go back to the doctor, tell the family, and figure out a way to continue her education. But first, she needed to talk to Aniruddha. Without him, all of that meant nothing. He would eventually come back when he had gathered his thoughts, and Bondita had to reassure him of her intentions. Bondita sighed, trying to compose herself as fresh drops of tears appeared again on her cheeks. She never pictured it this way. She always thought they would be happy when they started a family like other couples were. Bondita smiled in her own thoughts, wiping away the tears. They weren’t much “like others”, were they?
Half a coconut shell landed near the bed as she looked up at the threshold. Bondita’s eyes shone as she saw him holding the other half, tied together with a string. Did he make that? Did he look angry? Or upset? Bondita picked up the shell with trembling hands.
“Hello?” His voice was low, as though he was trying hard to hide his true emotions and appear stronger than he was. She looked up at him, silently, “Bondita’s Barrister Babu here.” Bondita inhaled, trying hard to control her tears in vain.
“First of all,” Aniruddha held his left ear with his left hand as he held the coconut shell in his right hand. “Sorry.” Bondita’s brows narrowed a little as he spoke. “Sorry that I was not there. Sorry, I didn’t understand. Sorry that you went through this alone. And sorry for running off like that.”Aniruddha stepped over the threshold of the bedroom, carefully stopping away from the bed. “And sorry that your mentor failed to be a husband.” Bondita shook her head.
“No. I am sorry.” Tears trickled down her cheek as she let go of the coconut shell in her hand. “Sorry, I let you down.”
“Bondita.” Aniruddha placed the shell down as he rushed to hold her in his arms, “You didn’t let me down. You made me believe what I had envisioned could be true.”
Aniruddha wrapped his arms around her as he placed his chin over her head, prompting her to hide her face in his chest, her tears soaking his Panjabi.
“Good thing I got the Rasho Malai, hmm?” Aniruddha spoke as Bondita smiled in her tears. “I will go get some.” He found her hands wrapped tighter around his back as he spoke. She wasn’t ready to let him go yet.
“What do we do now?” Bondita asked, scared, sobbing, as she trembled a little.
“Tell me, what do you want to do?” He asked her as she looked up at his face. He gently wiped away her tears. Bondita was overwhelmed and speechless.
“I don’t know.” She almost whispered as he cupped her face. She placed her head back on his chest, hearing his heartbeat as fast as hers. Aniruddha smiled faintly, pacifying her with gentle pats. His fingers entwined in the strands of her hair as he gently kissed her forehead.
“Rashomalai?” He asked.
“Lots of it.” Bondita smiled with a nod.
