“How far is the house?” Aniruddha frowned, contemplating. “I can walk.”
“This is just the beginning of the area; we have to look for it.” The driver shrugged. “Should I bring out your luggage?” Aniruddha sighed. He had a trolley and a bag. How could he walk with them in the mud? Leaving the car there was not safe either.
“Who are you looking for?” The childish voice came through the silence around them, though nobody could be seen. Aniruddha looked around, and so did the alarmed driver.
“Whose house are you searching for?” The voice was heard again. The driver jumped back a few steps, saying, “Bh… Bh… Bhoot…”
“What?” Aniruddha shook his head as the man looked scared “There is no such thing as…” He stopped as the voice laughed, amused. He followed it up on the branch above their head. The girl, about ten, sitting on it was in a cotton-printed saree, wrapped around her, and seemed quite amused at the scared driver.
“Mind if you come down and talk?” Aniruddha spoke, a little amused as she shook her head.
“It is your need, so you come up.” She insisted as he frowned.
“How old are you? What is your name?” He asked.
“Thamma ordered me not to give such details to strangers. Who are you? And what are you looking for?” She asked.
“I am Aniruddha. I am here for the Welfare Orga…”
“Oh!” The girl jumped right in front, making Aniruddha step back as a few drops of mud splattered across his shirt. He looked irked. “What are you doing?”
“He said you will come by the afternoon. You are late.” She frowned, not bothered by his irked face. “I was watching out for you for a long time.”
“I … yes… the car broke down and…” He stopped. “Who are you again?”
“Just a villager.” She spoke as she inspected the tyres in the mud. “You need a vehicle.”
“So intelligent of you.” Aniruddha shook his head. She stared back like she did not miss the sarcasm in his voice and shook her head in disapproval. She waited around a bit, staring at the empty road. Then she whistled, startling him a little. A few feet behind him, a bullock cart stopped.
“Kaka, O Kaka. You are going back to the village? Take this man to the Alamethi Pradhan’s house. And don’t take money, he is a guest.” She made the old man nod as the driver unloaded the pieces of luggage.
“Come along, I will take you there.” She spoke as she took a cycle out of the bushes. “Aniruddha Babu?” He nodded as he got into the uncomfortable transport, which started moving with a jerk.
“Bring the car whenever you can.” He instructed the driver.
“I will look for some people around to push it across the muddy road.” The man nodded. “I will be there.” He reassured Aniruddha.
Aniruddha was looking around the village scenes as the houses went past and the girl cycled alongside his cart, talking to the cart driver.
“How is Kakima now?” She enquired.
“She is better.” The man said, “Did you take your examinations?” He made her nod.
“I am the only one who did. The other girls didn’t come.” She shook her head. “Stop at the gate. Let me go call them out.” She insisted as she rang the cycle bell and turned it to stop in front of a two-storey small house with an open courtyard.
“Jethaima O Jethaima!” She shouted. “Pradhan Jyatha’s guest is here!”
“Bondita!” A woman exclaimed from the first-floor balcony as Aniruddha stepped down from the cart. “Stop shouting like that!” She saw Aniruddha stepping out of the cart and immediately rushed inside before he could spot her. Aniruddha looked up at the girl, who frowned.
“So your name is Bondita.” He said, making her stare. “Thank you for the help.” He took out a ten-rupee note from his pocket to offer her as she kept staring at it,
“Do you think I am your servant that you are giving me a tip?” Her words startled him.
“No, I…”
She shook her head with a frown. “Just because we live in a village doesn’t mean you city people treat us like servants.”
“Bondita.” The Pradhan made them look up as he folded his hands.
“I am so sorry, Aniruddha Babu, for all the trouble. Please come with me.” He insisted. “We have been waiting for you.” Aniruddha nodded. He turned to apologise to Bondita, only to find she had already cycled away.
“Na na, that is enough…” Aniruddha shook his head as Pradhan's wife served him more dal over steaming rice for dinner. “We village people eat more and serve even more to our guests, Aniruddha Babu.” She made him smile. “It is our fortune that you have come here.” She said, adjusting her Ghomta over her head.
“Yes, such a big Barrister from abroad at my humble home,” Pradhan said. “I am so pleased that your uncle called.” He made Aniruddha feel awkward. He told Aniruddha that although he now lived in Sonakhali, his original house was in a village in Gosaba, where he would take him soon.
“Before you retire for the night, I would like you to meet my father.”
He agreed with a nod.
The old man was sitting on a reclining chair with a hookah. His eyes were closed, and as soon as he heard footsteps, he opened them to say, “Ke? Bondita, is that you?”
“I don’t know what you see in her, Baba.” The man snapped, “It's me. I came here with Aniruddha Babu.”
“Ohh. Didn’t Bondita come? She promised me a game of chess,” he sulked. “Esho Baba esho.” He folded his hands as Aniruddha touched his feet. “Thaak Thaak.”
“Bondita is unruly and rude. She insulted Aniruddha Babu today.” Aniruddha frowned at Pradhan's words. “That girl is out of control, and she is only ten.”
“Na na, she didn’t. I mistook her to be one of your servants.” Aniruddha shook his head, a little embarrassed. The old man smiled.
“Oh, only if her father were alive and she had her dowry, she would be in a good place today.” The old man spoke. “But at least not having a dowry makes her want to study, unlike girls here.” He smiled faintly.
“And her education is making her vain.” The Pradhan spoke again. “She should know that at the end of the day, she and her Thamma are just an orphan and a widow living at the mercy of her poor Kaka Kakima.”
The old man shook his head. “You still don’t know how to judge people, son,” he rebuked. “Aniruddha Babu, what do you do?”
“I… am a Barrister, Dadu.” Aniruddha smiled, “If I can call you that.”
“Sure, sure.” The man nodded. “You are here to survey the cyclone-hit areas, right?” He nodded at the man’s words.
“Yes, I was thinking of going there tomorrow so I can call my team and start working to rebuild the area as soon as possible.” He cleared his throat.
“Sure, my men will come by and help you.” The Pradhan chimed in.
“I heard a lot about the village and its people. I wanted to stay there, but Jethu said…” He stopped, unsure.
“Your Jethu grew up here, too, but I guess city politics makes him forget that.” The old man shook his head. The Pradhan gasped.
“What are you saying, Baba?” He looked pale. “Trilochon Babu does so much for the people here. His coming to power would only help…”
“You keep your seat?” The old man rebuked. “That’s all you care about.”
Aniruddha felt awkward being part of the conversation. He had seen both sides of the coin growing up. He had seen his father and uncle speak of fond village memories before their father shifted base to Hooghly for work. He had seen his uncle being a mother he never had. But he had also seen the diplomatic politician in him not reacting to things he should speak up about, and the sufferings of the people in his country. Anything that could cause him to lose votes was not something anyone in the family should be speaking of; that was an unsaid rule they all followed in the house.
“Rest for a day at least.” The Pradhan insisted, turning to Aniruddha, “I have some work tomorrow. I will take you to inspect the villages the day after, and introduce you to the party workers.”
“No, I will look around on my own first. It’s alright, I just don’t want to rest and wait while people live in roofless houses.” Aniruddha shook his head. The old man smiled.
“Very well.” The old man pulled at his hookah. “I will tell Bondita to take you there tomorrow; such things should not be delayed.”
“Why, Bondita?” Pradhan frowned. “She is just a child.”
“Does anyone else know the untouchables who lost their homes better than she? " the man asked, making his son look away. “Would you go help them the way she does?” Aniruddha frowned at his words.
“These city people are so vain.” Bondita shook her head as she stomped across the hut. Her grandmother looked up at her words as she waved the hand fan. She was not Bondita’s real grandmother but a widowed sister of her grandfather who stayed with them. She was in her fifties but looked a lot older in her white saree.
“Why do you say so?” She asked with a frown.
“Because he offered me money for showing him the house. Who does that?” Bondita frowned as she braided her hair. “I hate city people.”
“Yet you want to go to Kolkata?” Her grandmother smiled faintly.
“Yes, Thamma, for my studies, not for the people.” She snapped.
“Oh really?” She stopped at her Kakima’s voice, “And who will pay for your high ambitions?” She snapped. “We have two unmarried daughters at home. Be grateful that we feed two extra mouths. And she wants to study!”
“The government has a lot of schemes, Kakima. Like I study in school for free, I can study under a scholarship, and work for rent and food. My teacher said...” Bondita insisted.
“Look at her ranting away.” Her uncle chuckled. “You think paying rent or finding a job in the city is easy? Tell your teacher not to spout this nonsense.” He shook his head as she frowned.
“You'd better know you are better off than most widows and orphans.” He spoke as her grandmother nodded. Bondita frowned. “I hope you know better than to make her have impossible dreams, Pishima. The only thing I can do as soon as she is of age is to marry her off…”
“I will not get married. I will not. I will not.” She shook her head, hugging her grandmother.
“Then you should have taken the money that kind man offered.” Kakima snapped from the kitchen area in the open courtyard, “That would have been better than returning empty-handed.”
“I am not a servant he can tip.” Bondita shook her head. “We need to respect ourselves first, then expect so from others.”
“Look at her blabbering with an empty stomach.” Kakima rebuked. “Who would say she is ten?”
“Enough, Bondita.” Her grandmother scolded. “Come, I will help clean the mud.” She inspected the hands and feet of the child as Kakima now walked in, alarmed, with a Khunti raised in her right hand. She gasped at the dirty child on the floor, hugging the widow.
“You made the hut dirty!” She screamed. “Today, you will not be spared.” Bondita dashed before she could catch her as her grandmother feebly protested, trying to stop Kakima from hitting her, “ Ah, Bouma Mero Na.”
