Bondita opened her window to find Thamma and Jyatha Moshai missing from the lawn. The chairs were empty. Was she sleeping till late? She checked the clock and shook her head. Taking the towel, she hurried towards the bathroom, countering Kalindi on the way. She was reading the newspaper with her rimless reading glasses on.
“Umm… why are you here? Where is Jyatha Moshai?” Kalindi raised her eyes briefly and sighed without putting the paper away. Her lack of response puzzled Bondita as she made her way to take a bath. When she came out in a pair of jeans and a shirt, rolling her sleeves up, Kalindi observed her keenly.
“Will you be going somewhere?” She enquired. Bondita nodded.
“Ah, yes, the District Office, some of my paperwork for the Bar Membership needs to be signed by a Gazetted Officer. Jyatha Moshai knows someone…”
“Don’t go by their house… he is in a bad mood.” Kalindi placed some Chirer Polao in front of her and spoke as Bondita rubbed her wet hair with a frown.
“Why?”
“Oh, you know why…” Kalindi sounded sarcastic. “After all, you put Aniruddha Babu to it…” Bondita almost choked on her morsel. He had spoken to Jyatha Moshai so early? Was he so angry that Som Dada could be in trouble? Bondita placed the plate down, grabbed her purse and hair claw clip and put on her shoes.
“Aree, finish the food,” Kalindi called after her in vain.
She was about to run up the portico stairs when Aniruddha came around the corner of the study room, putting his glasses on and almost bumped into her.
“Slow down, Rajdhani Express.” He put his hand out to resist bumping into her as she screeched to a halt breathlessly.
“Is everything alright?” She sounded concerned. “What did Jyatha Moshai say?” Aniruddha raised his eyebrows, observing her as he stepped back with his hand in his pocket. “You seem to be too invested in this. What is the reason? You also have someone I need to talk about?” He tried to sound amused, but the taunt in his voice was evident. Bondita narrowed her eyes at him. “I wanted to see if Dada is in trouble.”
“Last I checked, I was the one taking all the disappointment and scolding and heard Jethu call Baba about it, so no.” Aniruddha made her sigh in relief. “You can thank me. Or he can. I don’t know.” He shrugged. Bondita looked up at him and nodded in agreement, folding her hands at him. “Dhonyobad, Barrister Babu.” Aniruddha smiled. He was about to leave when he stopped before opening the car door and asked, “Are you going somewhere?” Bondita was standing at the threshold, lost in thought, as she turned around and nodded.
“I … yes… The District Magistrate's office.”
“Come along.” He offered. Bondita glanced over her shoulder at the quiet house, contemplating for a moment before she got into the passenger seat and bunned her hair up in a hurry. She could see herself in the side mirror; she had not put on Kajal and looked straight out of bed.
“ You look fine.” His words startled her as she eyed him driving, eyes on the road.
“Will Jyatha Moshai be upset with me?” She asked at last.
“Why? Are you also planning on bringing someone home, too?” He enquired. Bondita grew quiet. He frowned at the silence. “Are you?”
“Uff no! First them, then Batuk, now you… I don’t want to get married.” Bondita sounded irked as he gasped, feigning shock. “Then you must be in a lot of trouble with him. Trust me, I know. That is a whole other level of disappointment.” Bondita observed the smile on his face as she turned her head towards the window and wondered. Unlike others, he did not even ask why she said what she said. That was a welcome change because she would have fumbled with an excuse.
“I checked your resume, by the way. Once you are done with your work, you can come by the office. Look around…” Aniruddha suggested.
“Are you serious about the job? I mean, I don’t want to impose myself just because you know me.”
“Bondita, when did you become such an overthinker?” he shook his head “I saw your resume; you are more than qualified. I am unsure whether I can pay you a salary worthy of your skills.” Bondita ignored his over-exaggeration and asked for the address. He took a card from the glove compartment and handed it to her. It read,
Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury
LLB Bachelor of Laws, University of London
ARC & Associates
Chandannagar|Kolkata
On the back was the address of both offices, one at Rash Behari Avenue, Chandannagar another at Old Court House Street, Kolkata.
Bondita put it in her purse.
“Do you have a mobile phone?” He asked as she got out of the car and thanked him. She shook her head. “Those are expensive.” He nodded, waving before he turned the car and left. That was when Bondita realised he had taken a detour for her. She should have refused the lift. She walked into the office.
It was around noon when she finally had the paperwork done, walked out of the office and looked around. Even in October, the sun was shining warmly over her head, and the blue sky and white clouds reminded her that Ma Durga was coming home. She checked her watch and contemplated Aniruddha’s offer. Of course, she should go and see his office and think about it, even if she gets a better offer, even if it were in Kolkata. She hired a Rickshaw.
The glass door on the white two-storey house on the left side of Rash Behari Avenue read “ARC & Associates, Law Firm” and mentioned the types of cases they dealt with. She pushed the door to find herself in an air-conditioned waiting area which looked over cubicles of desks and some offices at the back. The receptionist smiled at her. “How can I help you, Ma’am?” Bondita watched her looking prim and proper in a neatly pleated saree and was suddenly aware of how messy she appeared.
“Umm… I am Bondita Das. I am here for…” She was unsure of what she was here for. The woman nodded.
“Ah, yes, Sir told me that you would come by. He is out of the office now, but he will be back soon.” She reassured Bondita as she dialled the intercom. A man about Bondita’s age appeared from one of the cubicles in a white self-striped shirt and blue trousers, smiling at her.
“This is Shaurya Mitra. He will show you around.” Bondita smiled politely, shaking his hand as he led her inside the premises. The cubicles where the juniors sat; the office accounts department was at the back, and there were separate chambers for the senior advocates. There was a staircase and a door at the end of the corridor.
“That door leads to the eating area and smoking area, and there is a fridge. Upstairs is Aniruddha Sir’s chamber.” Bondita nodded. “Come, I will show you.”
“But he is not there…” Bondita sounded unsure. Shaurya smiled.
“Oh, that is no problem. He told me to ask you to wait in his chambers.” Bondita nodded as Shaurya led her to the door upstairs that had a nameplate on it and took her leave.
Bondita pushed open the door, and entered the air-conditioned chamber, with a huge desk in the middle, shelves of books and case files around the wall, a statue of Justice on the desk, beside a pile of paperwork and a computer, along with a wheeled recliner chair, two cushioned chairs opposite his chair, and a couch with a coffee table at the back. There were pictures and certificates on the wall; newspaper cuttings of cases where he was mentioned, picture frames with his seniors, his college class photo and his certificate from London. She went up to the window and stared at the view of the skyline and the road below. Rickshaws and autos running to and from Strand Road. Her attention was drawn to the pictures behind the desk, on the little wall between the shelves. She went around the desk for a better look at them. One was a family picture with Batuk, Som, Jyatha Moshai and his father. Another was a picture of friends in London. She turned around to notice a horse-shaped paperweight. She picked it up to check how heavy it was, and a few papers slipped onto the carpet. Cursing herself inwardly, Bondita bent down to pick them up when Aniruddha entered the chamber. He frowned at the empty chamber and saw her crawl out from below the table with the papers. She froze as she spotted him in the room.
“You have not gotten over your habit of going through my things, have you?” Aniruddha looked amused as he straightened his metal-rimmed glasses over his nose.
“I was just checking the paperweight, I did not know the papers would…” Bondita said defensively, “Sorry…” Her formal tone made him sigh as he stepped towards the desk, and she stepped away towards the couch.
“You remember as a child, you always snuck around my room, going through my things when I was not around.” Bondita’s eyes widened at his words as he removed his glasses and placed them on the desk. “You knew?”
“Of course, who else would leave the hat on the table or the coat on the lowest rack?”
“You never said…” Bondita opened her mouth, a little shocked and embarrassed.
When Bondita was a child, the Roy Chowdhury house was full of things that increased her curiosity. The old typewriter gathered dust in a corner, the new computer set, the old gramophone, the statues, the books, and everything needed to be observed. Aniruddha’s room had more books that piqued her curiosity. Then her eyes fell on the music system in his room, his rack of Cassettes. His collection of Rabindra Sangeet and Hindi Songs. Bondita was taken to his room once by Batuk when he wanted to show her how the music system worked. Later, when Aniruddha would play music, she would often listen, first from outside the room and then sitting on the chair by his desk as he worked on the bed. Batuk would get scolded for speaking in between songs. He hated it when anyone talked during his work. He brought home new Cassettes from Kolkata. When he was not home and Batuk was at school, Bondita would often tiptoe into his room to listen to music. She danced when nobody watched her and appreciated herself in the full-size mirror of his room. As the meanings of those love songs became more apparent to teenage Bondita, she often found herself daydreaming and blushing. She would slip his coat on, watch herself in the mirror and smile. It smelled of his musk perfume. When she was fourteen, she had obtained the perfume from his room and sprayed it in her cupboard so that she could smell him in her room. But she always kept things in the same places. She never imagined he knew of her invasion into his room because she knew how Som Dada and Batuk would be scolded for taking his things and not returning them; he did not like anyone coming into his room.
One day, Batuk had casually mentioned it was Dada bhai's birthday the next week. He would buy something to give to Aniruddha. Bondita wondered what she could give him that would be different from the expensive gifts he would get. Amidst the guests who gathered at the Roy Chowdhury residence that evening, she found Aniruddha and requested him to see her in the study. Aniruddha thought she was too shy to give him a handmade card like she had gifted Batuk, perhaps aware of the expensive gifts they got from Jethu. Bondita had handed him a cassette of mixtapes. Songs she had curated into it herself. She had gone to a cassette seller the day before and spent her pocket money to buy the cassette. Aniruddha thanked her for the thoughtful gift.
“You can work and listen to these new songs now.” She said coyly. Little did Aniruddha know that the mixtapes had all the songs Bondita often listened to on the second-hand radio she had been given by Jethu, which reminded her of him.
Aniruddha smiled, gesturing at her to sit on the chair opposite his. “So, what do you think? Is the office good enough?”
“It is great.” Bondita smiled. “Congratulations on it, again.” He nodded.
“So you can start from the week after Lokkhi Pujo?” His words made her widen her eyes. “What? You made the decision so soon?” She made him smile faintly as he placed his elbows on the desk and leaned forward. “It's you, Bondita. I made the decision the day I offered you the job.”
“But you said you will see which position I can fill…”
“About that…” Aniruddha picked up the pen and scanned through the papers.
“The guy who used to be my junior for my cases just left. And I need assistance,” he looked up at her surprised face. “If you want to learn from me…”
Bondita nodded. He looked pleased, like he had expected her to agree.
“Great, welcome back. I look forward to being your teacher, guide and friend.” He extended his hand, and she shook it briefly.
“I can start whenever you want.” She nodded gratefully.
“Good, a few rules. Call me Sir here… and I don’t discuss family matters in the office, just like I don’t discuss cases at home…” Bondita nodded. “Anything you want to ask?”
“Can I leave if I have a better offer in Kolkata?” She asked. “I had sent my resume to some seniors before I came home…” He nodded. “After six months, you can. If the offer is too good, I will make an exception for sure.” Bondita noticed he did not ask about her wanting to go back to Kolkata. Either because he expected her to, or maybe because they were in the office. Bondita inquired about the contract and payment and left satisfied.
Coming home, she took out the old radio, dusted it clean and turned it on. The speaker screeched, and noise came out of it. She was disappointed when Kalindi called her to lunch and informed her that Trilochon wanted to see her. She hurried to the house after lunch. Trilochon was sitting on the chair as usual and did not acknowledge her walking in as she sat down with a smile, informing him about the job. He eyed her and straightened himself, making her smile fade.
“How long have you known about Som?” His question made her inhale. “He told me a few days before I came here.”
“And you could have told me yourself, but you decided to tell Aniruddha.” His words surprised Bondita.
“I thought he should know first because… umm…” She was awkward.
“Look. Bondita, you are grown up enough to understand what I want to say.” She stared at his worried face.
“My entire life was dedicated to these boys and their upbringing, just like Thamma did for you.” She nodded in agreement as he continued. “When I see Aniruddha, I am scared he will end up like me, with loneliness and regret. He feels responsible towards his brothers, and I understand that feeling. But when he came to speak about his younger brother’s marriage, all I could hear was that it should have been him first.” Bondita looked up at his words as Trilochon exhaled. “I feel if he doesn’t want a marriage or feels he is sufficient enough to live his life alone, somewhere I am at fault for making him believe that.”
“That’s not true.” Bondita protested.
“Has he told you anything? About why he doesn’t want to…” Bondita shook her head.
“I don’t talk about such things with him… I mean…” Bondita fumbled.
“Bondita…” Trilochon held her hand as she looked up at him “Do me a favour, child. I will never ask you for anything else. Find out why he resists the idea. Help me convince him that he needs someone to spend his life with.”
“I…” Bondita opened her mouth to resist, but could not as the man’s eyes sparkled with hope.
“I know you can do it, only you can. He will open up to you… I have found this nice girl, she is about thirty, her poor father could not marry her off, she has done her Master's. I told them to come by on Durga Pujo. Please convince him. I couldn’t; his father could not. His brothers are too scared. Who else can, if not you?” Bondita nodded reluctantly, scared of the idea of speaking about something so sensitive with him. But could she say no to Trilochon when the only thing he asked of her was this? Bondita decided to find out his reasons and inform Trilochon, who could do the needful, rather than his expectation of her convincing him to marry. That would keep her “safe” with both of them.
She was about to go home, lost in thought, when Batuk stopped her.
“Look what I found.” He waved an old notebook in front of her as she gasped.
“Our scrapbook?” She snatched it excitedly. Back when they were teens, they used to cut out cinema stars and cricketers out of newspapers discarded in the store room and paste pictures in this scrapbook. They knew if Jyatha Moshai or Aniruddha got an inkling of this growing interest in cinema stars, they would be scolded, so the scrapbook was hidden in a trunk in Batuk’s room with his old, discarded toys. In the afternoon, they would often sit around gossiping about what they read in some magazine or which film came to the theatre. Once, when they were fourteen, Batuk had bunked school with some of the boys to watch the matinee show of a Shah Rukh Khan movie in the theatre. All was well until he was spotted with his cycle in the Ghat by Binoy. What followed was not only being beaten by his father and rebuked by everyone, but also Binoy pointing a finger at Bondita for being aware of his atrocities and not informing anyone. That day, even Aniruddha was disappointed with her as if she were the one who did not make it to school. Batuk’s brief stint of cycling to school lasted a month.
“Koeli told me your radio stopped working.” Batuk jolted her out of her thoughts.
“What? Oh, yes. I have to repair it. So I asked her…” Bondita shrugged.
“Take my Music player, I barely listen to it. I will not take it to Kolkata as well.” Batuk offered.
“But I don’t have any cassettes or CDs.” Bondita shrugged.
“Dadabhai has had his cassettes in a box ever since he bought the CD Walkman… Now he listens to songs on the computer only.” Batuk suggested. Seeing her reluctance, he reassured her that he had offered the cassettes to Batuk once, and he would inform Aniruddha that she had taken them.
Bondita knelt on the floor of Aniruddha’s room as Batuk took the cardboard box out from below the bed, and she leaned in to check the Cassettes she could take. Batuk walked out of the room as she searched amidst the dust-gathered old cassettes. Her hand stopped at one of the mixtapes. It was decorated with glitter and named “Birthday Playlist”. Bondita recognised her handwriting as she picked it up. Her gift to him. She turned the cassette and found the songs on side A and side B written in her neatest handwriting. She dusted it and was about to take it home when he appeared at the threshold. Aniruddha narrowed his eyes as he rolled up his sleeves and put his hand in his pocket. “You again!”
“Batuk told me…” Bondita was quick to get up with a few cassettes in hand.
“What are you taking?” He stepped forward and saw the cassettes. “Bah, you are taking the mixtape you gifted? How rude!” Bondita inhaled.
“My gift was gathering dust; at least I will listen to it.” She eyed him and left as Aniruddha called out after her, “Who is going to put the rest back?”
“Koeli Didi will.” She was heard on the staircase. He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Bondita rushed back home and placed the Music player on her desk. She closed the door, placed the cassette in the player and hit the Play button as she sank back on the bed. Music filled the room.
Tujhe Yaad Na Meri Aayi Kisi Se Ab Kya Kehena…
Bondita rushed to Mini Didi with the saree in hand. It was a red Tant with a golden border, and she was happy that Aniruddha remembered to buy something for her on Durga Pujo. She was at the threshold when she saw Mini Didi trying on the same saree in front of the mirror with a smile.
“Bondita.” She spotted her through the reflection and called her, “Come see the saree Aniruddha got.”
“He got me the same one,” Bondita said, sounding less enthusiastic as Mini eyed the saree in her hand. She shook her head and laughed.
“I was surprised he went to buy a saree; now it seems like he just bought more of the same for everyone.” She seemed amused. “Not everyone. He got Thamma a white Dhakai.” Bondita protested in a matter-of-fact tone. Mini Didi spoke of thanking him with a return gift. She ran back home, sad. How could he bring two of the same things for them? He put no thought into his gift, unlike what she had assumed. She turned on the radio in an attempt to hide her angry sobs, and the radio played the song.
Iqrar Jo Tum Kar Paate Toh Dur Kahi Na Jaate…
Bondita suddenly sprang up from the bed and went to her cupboard as the song played on.
“Thamma? O Thamma!” She called out to Kalindi, who came, wiping her hands in her saree.
“Have you seen my red saree?”
“What red saree?” Kalindi frowned.
“Aree, the one I got as a gift.” She searched the cupboard.
“It must be here somewhere. Why do you need it now?” Kalindi frowned.
“I will wear it tomorrow for Mahalaya.” She shrugged.
Kalindi smiled. “You did not like the saree one bit back then. I remember I had to coax you into wearing it on Ashtami when Mini wore it. She asked Aniruddha who looked better in it, and when he said you did, you were so angry. I don’t understand what angered you then, even today. Poor him, had to bring your favourite chocolates to reconcile.” Bondita found the saree between Kalindi’s reminiscence and eyed her. “I was a child, Thamma. Not everything children do has meaning.”
“Well, he thought otherwise. He was worried about you. Mini reassured him that it was just you growing up.” Kalindi smiled. “He did not seem to understand that.”
Bondita put the saree on her left shoulder and observed.
“Jyatha Moshai will go to Tarpan in the morning. Somnath usually accompanies him. Batuk will come by to hear the Mahalaya with me, so set the alarm, alright?” Bondita nodded unmindfully at her words. The song ended, and the next one began to play.
Naa Jaane Mere Dil Ko Kya Ho Gaya…. Abhi Toh Yehi Tha Abhi Kho Gaya.
Aniruddha came back late from a conference, and it was almost midnight. He found the house eerily silent, something he was quite used to, yet he searched the rooms downstairs just to make sure. Eating the cold food suddenly made him remember her words. One must not have a cold meal. He got up with his plate and turned on the lights in the kitchen to warm the dal and curry. He then searched the fridge and found a bowl of Payesh left over from that day. He took it out to eat as dessert. Once he was in his room, he opened the window, and his eyes fell on the Choto Bari. It was dark everywhere. Her window was open, and he could see the faded curtains swaying. A faint sound of music came to his ears. It was his playlist. He took some paperwork and walked downstairs to the study to finish his work. He turned on the computer, went to the Winamp Media Player and found the playlist he had marked “Birthday Playlist”. He hit play and resumed work. Music filled the room.
Mera Dil Bhi Kitna Pagal Hai, Yeh Pyar Toh Tumse Karta Hai
Par Samne Jab Tum Aate Ho, Kuch Bhi Kehne Se Darta Hai.
