Bondita opened the curtains of her room at The Park to find the view of Stephen Court and the street below going towards the Maidan. She eyed the double bed and placed her things on one side while lying down on the empty side. The soft bed made her yawn as she sat up, staring at the clock. She needed to change for a quick dinner. They had an early matter at the High Court, and the client’s car was supposed to pick them up around 9 AM. As she changed into a full-sleeve black top and jeans, removed her earrings and adjusted her smudged Kajal, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it to find Aniruddha standing in a pair of jeans and a grey polo-necked T-shirt, his hair brushed back, as he cleaned his thin-rimmed glasses with the edge of his T-shirt.
“Are you ready for dinner?” He asked, putting the glasses back on. As she nodded, she grabbed her handbag.
They walked into The Bridge, and Bondita was a little conscious of her environment. Many foreign guests, businessmen and even some local celebrities dined in the restaurant. Aniruddha seemed comfortable in the surroundings, unlike her, as he asked for a table for two and sat down at the table provided to them, in a corner, facing her. The menu card was provided, and he rejected the alcohol menu and placed the food menu in front of her. Bondita’s eyes involuntarily travelled to the right side of the menu card. She had no clue what Kaker Dim Boger Dim unique things cost so much. Aniruddha seemed to read her mind and smiled.
“Eat what you please; the client is paying.” Bondita eyed him from behind the menu card.
“How did you land such clients?” She made him smile. He talked of the list of things she had to shop for after work the next day, as Trilochon had insisted. She nodded, reassuring him that she could take a trip to Esplanade and New Market and back without his company, reminding him that she lived here. She asked if they should contact Batuk, but Aniruddha shook his head, pointing out that he lived near Salt Lake and the pain he would take to travel to their part of the city would not be worth it because their schedule was tight. Bondita did not seem to like the idea of not informing Batuk, as Aniruddha reminded her rather scornfully that she was not on a holiday; they were working. This prompted Bondita to leave the chatter about home and Som’s marriage alone.
“After dinner, do you want to discuss the case once?” She asked as her order of Butter Nan and Kadai Chicken came along with his Grilled Bhetki, which were brought to the table. He shook his head. “No, I want you to prepare for the meeting in the evening instead. You will be leading the conference.”
“What?” Bondita looked a little startled. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Do you want to spend your life sitting beside me as I speak?” He shook his head, “You have to start somewhere. I will be there to guide you.”
Bondita looked unsure as he scolded her. “Now don’t overthink that and ruin dinner. Eat!”
Bondita had spent the better part of the night preparing for the meeting, and it showed in her confidence during the conference. Aniruddha was so impressed that he decided to buy her dinner. “It's my treat,” he insisted. They went to Bar B-Q for dinner when Aniruddha mentioned, “By the way, the conference tomorrow morning has been called off.” Bondita was concentrating on the soup she ordered when she frowned. “Then? Should we go back in the morning?”
“Well, the hotel is already booked, so we can roam around Kolkata a bit?” He suggested as Bondita looked a little shocked. “You have never roamed around Kolkata?” He shook his head. “I only come for work.”
“That’s so bad! You have not seen the real Kolkata unless you walk the streets and eat street food. Roll, Chowmein…”
“How about you show me the city then?” He suggested, as Bondita looked enthusiastic. “Show me the way you see it.” Bondita agreed. Away from home, Kolkata had always provided her with the comfort of belonging. Many of her friends did not like the big city bustle and the way many of their classmates looked down upon small-towners. Bondita perhaps did not pay attention because she had faced scrutiny before in her life. Bondita soaked in the art and culture of the city. It provided her with a reason to smile when she refused to go to Chandannagar for the holidays. It provided her with a feeling of home in North Kolkata’s Sweet shops and their Jolbhora Sandesh. She wanted to take Aniruddha around, show him a part of her world, away from him.
“Fine, we will visit the Indian Museum, the Victoria Memorial, the Cathedral, the Planetarium…” He smiled, nodding at her enthusiasm. She waved her hands as she spoke of the things she had experienced in Kolkata, and Aniruddha smiled, observing her eyes twinkle.
Aniruddha eyed her as they stepped out of the restaurant; the sudden nip in the air made her feel a little shivery. She observed him not feeling the nip in his full-sleeved blue T-shirt and cursed herself inwardly for wearing the floral summer top, and they walked across the road towards Flurys. “Dessert?” He asked as she nodded a little absentmindedly. The purple board of the Music World attracted his attention as he walked in. Bondita smiled, observing him checking CDs.
“You remember all the Cassettes I used to bring home? They were from this place.” He made her nod. He chose a CD for Batuk as a compensation gift for not informing him of their little visit. “You want one?” Bondita shook her head. “Come on, take one. You and Batuk are like the same for me; I would feel guilty if I took a gift for one and not the other.” He shrugged. Bondita smiled faintly at his words, eyeing him, checking the CD covers.
“No, you are here with your junior, not someone you know at home, remember?” She said suggestively.
“That will be a problem, I would never hang out outside work with my junior, but with a friend…” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“She will be there tomorrow.” She eyed the cake shop and shook her head. “It's late, we should head back. I changed my mind. I don’t want dessert.” He looked at her like he did not believe it. “Bondita refusing cake?” He gasped dramatically. “Come on. Don’t grow up that much!” He remembered her warning about his jokes and bit his tongue as she glared at him.
“Fine, I will take one. You share with me.” He insisted as he took a black forest pastry and sat across from her. She had worked out the plan for a day trip across Kolkata, and he listened attentively. They shared the dessert and headed back to the hotel. He dropped her at the door of her room and waited for her to lock herself in before heading to his room on the same floor.
Through the next day, an enthusiastic Bondita, in a touristy mood in her jeans, boots and floral top, took Aniruddha who had not packed for a day out, in his grey t-shirt and jeans, across central Kolkata, from Park Street to the Indian Museum, then walking down the Red Road, Maidan in view, to the Victoria Memorial Museum, the St Paul’s Cathedral and finally for the evening show at the Planetarium. She made him try Kusum’s roll at Park Street, Jhal Muri and Fuchka at Maidan, the Papri Chaat near the Planetarium and finally, Fish Fry and Chow Mein near Nandan. He contemplated whether they should watch a play that Bondita refused because it was late. They walked back to the hotel in the evening, tired and full.
Aniruddha took a shower to relieve himself of the tiredness of the day, which he enjoyed, and he realised he was not enthusiastic enough for long walks anymore. His calf muscles hurt as he knocked on Bondita’s door, expressing his desire to order dinner with room service sometime later in the night. She offered to take the food to her room, knowing how particular he was about his cleanliness and privacy. He agreed, and Bondita removed her things from the bed to allow him a place to sit. Aniruddha came around 11 PM and sat down and looking around at her belongings on the dressing table, the paperwork on the desk, and the clothes worn and discarded over the suitcase. Bondita came out of the washroom, wiping her face with a towel and noticed his judgmental glare at her room from behind his glasses.
“I am usually tidier than this,” she said, biting her lip, unsurely. He shook his head, “No. I… was wondering if you will be able to pack before we leave tomorrow.” He joked.
“Tell me something. Did you talk to Som Dada about joining politics?” She asked, sitting on the chair across from him. He nodded. “I did, and he seems to be clear about wanting to get into it.”
“Hmm…” Bondita looked worried. “Will he be able to be diplomatic and… umm… even when they are wrong…” She looked up at him. Aniruddha shook his head. “He is an adult, Bondita. I am sure he knows what he is doing…” He heard the bell ring and took the food in. The aroma of Biryani filled the air as Aniruddha looked eagerly at the plate. Bondita suddenly remembered Trilochon’s task of finding out about Aniruddha’s reasons not to marry.
“Are you a sir or a friend, now?” Her question made him stop taking a spoonful of Biryani he had picked up and look up at her, confused.
“What?”
“Tell me, you are a sir or…” Bondita sat down to take some food on her plate as she asked. “It's important, I want to ask you something…” Aniruddha smiled. “Go on.” He shrugged, raising his brows.
“Umm… I don’t want to offend you… but… Batuk and I were wondering…” Bondita eyed him eating. He shook his head, still engrossed in the potato he was savouring in the Biryani.
“When did your questions offend me, Bondita?” He cut her stammering short.
“Did you ever …umm…” He glared at her awkward face as she added, “...like someone?” Aniruddha frowned a little as he stopped eating.
“What kind of a question… did Jethu put you up to something?” Aniruddha asked, adjusting the spectacles on his nose. Alarmed at his words, Bondita shook her head. “Let it be, you are offended.”
“No, I am not. I am wondering why this thought would suddenly come into your head.” he shook his head and eyed her.
“Suddenly? Well, Batuk and I were discussing Dada and Asha Didi… so… we realised that we never knew if you had a crush.” She shrugged.
“Such things are not for discussion, especially between you and Batuk.” He scolded. Bondita suddenly had a faint smile on her lips, even when her heart sank a little. “You did, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” He shrugged casually.
“Who was it?” She asked, trying not to sound eager.
“Stop it, we are not talking about it.” Aniruddha looked a little flabbergasted. “Did you have a crush on Mini Didi?” Her question made him stare at her sternly as he dropped the spoon.
“Really, after whatever I told you…No, it's not her.” He shook his head.
Bondita shook her head. “Ok, sorry. Who then? Someone we know?” Bondita was afraid she was pushing him, but since she had brought it up bravely, the topic needed to be addressed as much as her own for Trilochon’s sake.
“No…” He chewed at a piece of chicken as he spoke, “It was someone in college.”
“In London?” He nodded at her words. Bondita seemed more eager now. “What was her name?”
“Alice.” He shrugged. “She was a classmate,” he eyed her eagerness.
Bondita had for the first time heard the British name from him. She inhaled.
“You had no crushes after that?” He shook his head. “I had no time for all this…”
“They say when you love someone, you don’t fall for others,” Bondita murmured suggestively. Aniruddha chuckled.
“Love?” He shook his head. “I liked her because she did not treat me differently from the others. But as it happened, she would not want an Indian guy for a partner.”
“Did you… confess?” She asked, shocked.
“Yes, I did at the farewell. There is no harm in telling someone you had a crush on them and knowing they were not feeling the same.” He explained. “We kept in touch for a few years, then stopped. Life happened.” He shrugged. “She is married to a professor in Boston.” Bondita’s throat went dry. “And what if it's not merely a crush like you thought it to be?” She asked. Aniruddha shook his head. “Never experienced that, can’t tell.” Bondita nodded as she played with the food mindlessly.
“What about you?” He asked as he tasted the Butter Chicken.
“Huh?” Bondita looked up unmindfully at him.
“Did you have crushes in college?” He asked, licking the tip of his finger. Bondita inhaled. “Did Batuk?”
“Batuk never shared if he did. And… I…” She remembered his words, “Yes, I did.” She watched him stop putting the potato on the spoon as he looked up.
“Classmate?” he raised his brows as she shook her head. Bondita contemplated for a while before she answered.
“He was my teacher.” She smiled faintly, lowering her gaze, concentrating on the food. Aniruddha’s eyes widened.
“Your teacher? He must have been older than you.” There was an underlying tone of judgment that she did not miss. “So? Crushes happen…” She shrugged.
“Yes…” he agreed, “So what happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Bondita tried to shrug off the topic, but he insisted. “You did not tell him? Was he that old?” His eagerness made her look up at him.
“I did not tell him because…” She paused briefly to take a morsel in, “ I thought… he was going to get married…” Bondita looked away at her plate as she murmured.
“Did he get married?” Aniruddha asked as Bondita shrugged. He did not know whether it was a yes or a no, whether Bondita was still in touch with this man or whether he had hurt her. Aniruddha was suddenly worried about not being there through her first heartbreak. He remembered the time when Som told him that a girl he liked had been taken. He had been through it himself to know that it would not matter after a few years. Som would move on. With Bondita, he was not sure; she had always been delicate and emotional. He had never taken it as a worrisome characteristic until that moment.
“So was it the love you described?” he asked her, as Bondita shrugged. “I don’t know what it was…” She seemed reluctant to speak about it. The silence around her made Aniruddha feel uncomfortable. He tried to lighten the mood.
“Bondita!” he smiled, “ You are not as innocent as you look, I suppose.” He shook his head. Bondita eyed him, trying to understand if his tone was condescending.
“Nobody except you ever found Bondita innocent; everyone called her manipulative.” Bondita shrugged as he looked amused at her words. Indeed, he had heard Thamma and Jethu complain about her skills to emotionally manipulate them into doing what she wanted them to. “But I have a question. Answer me truthfully.” He made her nod as she stood up to go to the washroom to clean her hands.
“Why did you ask me about forgetting love…” Bondita avoided the question. “Was it also in your discussion with Batuk?” He looked at her attentively as she walked away to wash her hands. He could hear the water running longer than usual.
“Why are you avoiding it?” He sounded suspicious as she stepped out of the washroom.
“What? I…” Bondita stopped as he stared at her, knowing what he wanted to know. “I wanted to know, as did Jyatha Moshai, why you…”
“When did you start taking Jethu’s side after everything I told you?” He looked disappointed.
“I did not take sides.” Bondita shook her head. “He just wants answers to questions he can’t ask you.”
“Bah, and Bondita Debi is always to the rescue?” She did not answer him. He had finished his meal. He stood up, cleaned his hands with the napkin, wished her goodnight and left.
The first thing Aniruddha did on Monday morning was to find Trilochon to give him a piece of his mind that he needed to stop the marriage topic. He found Trilochon in the living room with Kalindi. It was drizzling outside, and they were having their tea inside. Aniruddha suddenly felt awkward about stepping into the living room where they sat alone, chatting, when he overheard them speak. Trilochon had told some peers about Bondita, and they had asked for her pictures. Kalindi thought it would be nice to ask the photographer to click some pictures of her during Som’s wedding for them to show to the interested groom's family. Aniruddha frowned, inhaling a little as he barged into the room.
“First you are after me, now her?” Trilochon was a little startled by the sudden invasion from Aniruddha. “Do you have nothing better to do?” He eyed Kalindi. “She just started to work. Is this even what she wants? Did you ask Bondita?”
“What’s there to ask?” Kalindi quipped. “We were never asked.”
“And were you very happy?” Aniruddha stopped as Trilochon got up. “Aniruddha, I taught you better than to talk like that.”
“I am better, hence, I know a girl’s identity is beyond the value of marriage. Bondita is so skilful and capable. Out of all my interns, she is the quickest learner. I am thinking of putting her as a lead on a case. Instead, all you want to do is tie her down…”
“What’s the fuss? We will ask the groom’s family for permission to let her work after marriage, too.” Trilochon shrugged as Kalindi agreed. “Such things happen…”
“Permission? Will the groom ask for permission to work from his bride?” He shook his head, “This is exactly what is wrong with this country.”
“I don’t get him, do you?” Kalindi looked at Trilochon, who shook his head.
“I stopped trying long ago.” He sighed. “What do you want? Her to end up alone and a workaholic like you? Maybe she has dreams of marriage and children, unlike you? Have you thought of that?” Aniruddha looked a little taken aback at his words as he shook his head. “Do whatever you want, but with her permission, not behind her back like this!” He stormed off as Kalindi and Trilochon exchanged glances.
“He is protective of her… like he is of Batuk… you know…” Trilochon forced a smile as he eyed a worried Kalindi, who stood up to leave. “I will talk to Bondita. I am sure she will agree.” Kalindi’s jaws tightened. What she saw in Aniruddha’s anger bothered her. She remembered someone else being that angry when she talked about her marriage. Trilochon might not see it, or Kalindi might be wrong in her understanding, but she needed to be careful. She would not let history repeat for Bondita. She deserved better.
Bondita noticed Aniruddha had been irked ever since he had walked into the office. She had left early for some work and managed to arrange everything before he arrived. He picked up a file, his brows narrowed as he inhaled and called the intercom.
“Send Chatterjee in.” One of the senior partners, a classmate of his, entered the chambers with a knock as Bondita stood up to greet him.
“What are all these spelling mistakes? This is a copy of the Affidavit we need to submit tomorrow. How can you be so careless?” Both the man and Bondita were taken aback by his rebuke.
“I told her to cross-check, didn’t I?” Chatterjee turned to Bondita. “Did you not do as I said?” Bondita was about to open her mouth to say that she was never asked to, but she remained quiet.
“She works under me; I order her. You have to find another intern.” Aniruddha interrupted as she looked up at him. “It's not her job to check your work.” Chatterjee inhaled as he stared at Aniruddha and then at Bondita.
“Fine.” He took the file and strode off as Aniruddha sat back in the chair. Bondita eyed him as she placed another file on the desk.
“You asked for this one…” She murmured. “Sir?”
“Why are you not careful with whatever they give me?” Aniruddha sounded irked. “What is the purpose of having a junior if I have to check spelling?”
“The … pap…paperwork…came this morning…” She stuttered as he sounded irked.
“Yeah, all of you have excuses. Perhaps you would have worked more efficiently if you kept your mind off other things.” He slammed the file on the desk as she moved away. Bondita did not bother him for the rest of the day. He had a client to meet during lunch, and when she walked downstairs, she could hear everyone whispering about how Sir favoured her in the morning by taking her side against his colleague. She learnt to ignore it as she ate alone. When he was not back in the office till six, she left for home.
Bondita stopped by the sweet shop to take Roshogolla back home because her first salary was credited that day. She touched Thamma and Jyatha Moshai’s feet, seeking their blessing and called Batuk to inform him that his treat was due. He sulked when he got to know that they were in Kolkata, but none of them called him.
“We were working all day.” Bondita shrugged. “Otherwise, we would have called.” She bit her tongue, knowing that they had forgotten to call him for three days.
She waited for Aniruddha to return and left a message: “Will you be late?” The message went unanswered. Bondita wondered why her mistake angered him; technically, he was aware it was not even her mistake.
Aniruddha walked in when he saw the study room lights on. Bondita was sitting there in her pyjamas, going through files. He checked the watch, which was past midnight and strode in.
“Go home.” He insisted, putting his briefcase down.
“I will once I am done with the papers. Triple-checking them.” He exhaled as she spoke without looking up to acknowledge him.
“Fine.” He shook his head. “Turn the lights off when you do.” He was about to leave when she said, “You don’t keep your word.” A hint of complaint in her voice made him stop at the threshold. “Pardon?”
“You said you keep home and office separate.” She stood up, gathering some loose paper as she looked for the stapler. “But you don’t.”
“I don’t?” He sounded irked. “Now, what is the problem?”
“See…” She pointed the stapler she picked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “I don’t need to see my angry boss at home, do I? But here you are. And I don’t need a friend to protect me at work, even when I am not wrong. I can defend myself.” Aniruddha sighed at her words, removing his glasses. “Don’t talk in riddles, Bondita; I am too tired!” She used the stapler on a stack of papers, dropped it on the desk and turned.
“Something irked you today, you took that out on Chatterjee sir and me.” She said plainly. “If it's something at home, it should not affect work…” Aniruddha was about to defend himself when she continued as she walked up to him. “When Chatterjee-Sir blamed me, I could have handled it; I need to learn that too, right? Your defending me sounded like favouritism. There you were not Sir anymore but …” Bondita shrugged. “And just like I don’t want you to protect me at work, I don’t want bitterness called, Sir, at home either.” Bondita stopped as he stared at her intently. She skipped a heartbeat and looked away.
“I am sorry.” He made her look up with a satisfied smile. “I will keep that in mind.”
“Wait here.” She walked away as he folded his sleeves and undid the first button of his shirt, holding his neck, which was pained in tiredness. She came back with a bowl of Rashogolla in her hand.
“I was here for this. My first salary just came into my account, so…” Aniruddha smiled faintly. “My hands are dirty. Keep them. I will eat later.” She narrowed her brows, refusing. “No, you will forget. Here, you don’t have to use your hand.” She offered the Roshogolla, and as he ate it from her hand, she smiled, satisfied.
“Bondita, if you don’t tell me, how will I understand why you are angry?” Aniruddha tried to ask Bondita, who was sitting under the desk in his room, with her face towards the wall. Her frock was wrinkled, and her braids were messy. “Everyone is looking for you; they think Bondita is lost.”
“Let them.” She pouted. “Nobody cares for me.”
“Says who?” Aniruddha sat down on the floor, facing her as she glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me who doesn’t care. I will scold them.” Her eyes teared up.
“Thamma scolded me when it was Batuk’s fault. He stole the Roshogolla; I did not, I swear.”
“Oh, I believe you.” Aniruddha nodded, patting her head gently “Stop crying and come out. I will take you to have as much Misti as you want.” Bondita shrugged off his hand and puffed her cheek, shaking her head, “No, I don’t want your pity.” Aniruddha raised his eyebrows at her choice of words. “When did I pity you? I genuinely believe it was Batuk. Come now, let's have Roshogolla. You and me.”
“Shotti, you believe me?” She asked, wiping her tears. Aniruddha nodded, “Shotti” He took the bowl he had brought with him and extended the Roshogolla to her. “Come now.” He expected her to take it from his hand; instead, she opened her mouth, making him smile amused as he fed her.
