The group of youth provided by the Pradhan proved efficient for Aniruddha’s liking as they helped him survey the villages, create a set of data and provide a rough idea of how much fund was needed to rebuild the roofs and fallen walls.
“What if we make them permanent? That way, the next cyclone will cause less damage. Pakka houses may also get other facilities like toilets and…” Aniruddha suggested as his eyes shone in the flickering light of the dimly lit kerosene lamp in the living room of Pradhan’s house. Drops of perspiration had formed on his forehead in the load-shedding, and the mosquitoes buzzed around them. For the first two nights, Aniruddha could barely sleep in the unfamiliar surroundings with buzzing insects, sounds of the unknown, and eerie animals here and there at a distance. Stories of snakes climbing up to the second floor through windows despite the mosquito net protecting his four-poster bed kept him alarmed. By the third day, after a day’s survey through the village in the heat, he could barely care as his tiredness made him surrender to the alertness. The men laughed at his words in amusement. Aniruddha frowned. What had he joked about?
“Pardon us, but you are from the city, Aniruddha Babu. You don’t know the ways around here. They cannot have pakka roofs,” one of the men said, almost like it was an impossible dream.
“Cannot or should not?” The men rose to their feet as the Pradhan’s father entered the room from the inner doorway, followed by a servant bringing cups of tea, Muri and Chanachur.
“What do you mean, Dadu?” Aniruddha asked. The old man shook his head.
“How can the Adivasis have permanent roofs when the priests of the villages surrounding them don’t?” His voice had a hint of sarcasm.
“But their houses are not broken.” Aniruddha insisted. He knew what Dadu implied but did not wish to indulge. Dadu shook his head again.
“The Adivasis don’t believe in materialistic things. They will prefer thatched roofs or hay and…” One of the men stopped at Dadu’s stare.
“They are one with nature.” Dadu agreed. “But they are accustomed to believing that they don’t deserve better things as well. Someone needs to show them that they do.” He involuntarily glanced at Aniruddha as their eyes met.
“Isn’t Bondita enough for all that Baba that you are putting ideas in Aniruddha Babu’s head?” The Pradhan grunted as the old man shook his head and walked away. He then turned to Aniruddha.
“Look, you are an outsider, and people here are not very friendly with outsiders, especially ones like you who want to change our age-old ways.” The man looked displeased. “You are Trilochon Babu’s nephew, and it is my job to protect you. But if you go out of your way, nobody can guarantee your safety…” The room fell silent as Aniruddha could not help but wonder if the man was a friend with a warning or a foe with a disguised threat.
Aniruddha remembered how Bondita, while showing him around the ruins caused by the cyclone, never pointed out which house belonged to whom; she was worried about the school building, and Aniruddha had promised her that the girl’s school building would have a permanent roof. He intended to keep the promise.
“Very well, the girls' school will have a permanent roof now. Like the boy's one.” Aniruddha spoke. The men looked surprised. “I am sure your upper-class girls can also find that helpful, and the poor ones can seek shelter there in the next storm.” Aniruddha did not wait for them to say anything as he wrapped up his papers and walked away. The Pradhan kept staring at the empty threshold and murmured, “Goodness, that girl got to him, too. We have to do something about her.”
Bondita had come by early the next morning to play chess with Dadu. She was learning her moves like an ardent student when Aniruddha, still in his night’s Pyjama Panjabi, walked out to the courtyard where they sat, folding the sleeves of his maroon Panjabi, yawning lazily. He had the day off because the builders had been summoned, and they would take a day to gather the materials before they started working. Aniruddha estimated it would take a week to start cementing the school roof, and once that was done, he would leave. Later on, Som could come along and investigate the rest. He stood for a while at a distance, watching the two play chess. That was when Dadu was outsmarted by Bondita, who giggled, amused at her move to checkmate, and Aniruddha applauded her intelligence at outplaying the old man. This made them turn to him.
“Aniruddha Babu. Suprobhaat.” Dadu smiled as he walked up to them. “Did we wake you with our chattering?”
“Oh no, I was awake. I heard you, so I…” he eyed the girl staring at him as if she was waiting for him to praise her. Aniruddha smiled. “You played very well.” Bondita instantly flashed her missing teeth and resumed setting the pawns back on the board for another game.
“No, no…” Dadu shook his head. “Run along now, we will play again tomorrow.” Bondita frowned at his words. “You don’t want to play because you lost to me, isn’t it?” Dadu laughed amused, patting her head and shaking his head. “No, my child, winning and losing are always part of the game. I have to attend…”
“What about I play?” Aniruddha offered. Bondita looked gleefully at him again with raised brows.
“You can play?” Aniruddha nodded. “Been a champion of my school, try me.” He sat down on the mat Dadu had abandoned and let Bondita start. After an hour, Aniruddha found himself surrounded by her soldiers. “Check Mate.” Bondita clapped as he looked a little taken aback.
“How did you… How did I not see… I must be absent-minded…” His excuses made her smile. “You lost; I won, Babu.” She shrugged as she started putting the pieces back in Dadu’s box.
“Your intelligence must be rewarded.” He said, pretending to think as her hand stopped at closing the box, and she looked up at him, hopefully. He rubbed his chin playfully, eyeing her eyes shining as they widened with a smile.
“Rewarded?” She asked with raised eyebrows again, her red ribbon swaying from the oiled, braided hair on either side of her head.
“Hmm…” He stood up, putting his hands behind his back as he paced the courtyard. “What could that be…” Bondita waited as he turned around and smiled. “What about a permanent roof for the school by next week?” Bondita’s eyes widened as she gasped.
“Shotti, Babu? Really?” She asked, unable to believe him as he nodded. “Of course, I promised you, didn’t I?” She nodded again. “But I thought they wouldn't agree.” She said in a low voice. “I will go tell my friends the good news.” She said cheerfully.
“Once your roof is done, I will leave. My brother will come by later to check on the allocation of the funds…” He smiled as her smile faded. Bondita frowned at him.
“Did you hate our village so much that you won’t come back?” She asked with a frown. Aniruddha shook his head, putting his hands up defensively. “Oh no, no, not that… This is my native place too, but… Once I go back, I will start working so…” Bondita nodded intelligently. “I will probably start my practice in Calcutta as well…”
“So when I grow up and go there to study, I will find you.” Bondita’s confident voice warmed Aniruddha’s heart. “Of course, but not if I find you first.” He patted the girl’s head gently as she surprised him by touching his feet.
“What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his brows a little.
“I… wanted to thank you for all you did…” She smiled. “For us.”
“Study well, Bondita. You will become someone who will help others someday.” He blessed her as she nodded, grabbed her cycle from the corner and pedalled away. Aniruddha thought that would be the last he saw of the girl.
