Aniruddha let the shower run as his skin erupted into goosebumps under the cold water. He breathed out and removed the locks of wet hair from his face. He turned off the shower, wrapped the towel lowly around his waist and walked back to the room, not caring about the wet floor from the water dripping down his torso. He lay on the bed as his body soaked the blanket. He stared at the ceiling, stretching his arms over his head. Bondita’s promise played on his mind in a loop. “I will not leave… I will never leave.” He wanted to believe her. He wanted one person he could fall back on, trusting them to catch him when he stumbled. But his experiences proved him otherwise. He remembered that day as vividly as if it were yesterday.
He had bought a scarf for Bondita from Palika Bazaar as a truce because he felt bad leaving home after fighting with her. He had tried to be patient with her and sat her down numerous times to make her understand why boarding school would benefit her. Aniruddha realised in that experience that not only did Bondita have a strong opinion about everything, but she was also stubborn. He had often taken it as a compliment when Thamma said some of his qualities rubbed off on her. He did not know his stubbornness would rub off on her, giving him a hard time. He had decided to gift the scarf and tell her she did not need to leave. That morning, she had teary eyes when she asked why he wanted to send her away. The hurt in her eyes upset him. She was fifteen, perhaps not mature enough to understand what was good for her. Did she doubt that everyone was going to miss her if she went away? Or did she think he treated her as a burden? He would never!
Aniruddha had come back home after two days and found it oddly quiet. Koeli informed him that Thamma and Jethu were at Dehradun because Bondita had agreed to enrol in the boarding school. Aniruddha’s throat felt dry as he walked into his room that day. She could have waited for him to return. Or at least called him? Som had his hotel details. He searched his room and study room in vain, hoping to find a letter from her. That disappointed him even more than her leaving. In a sudden rage, he threw away the scarf he had bought for her.
The first evening after she had left, he came home from work in Kolkata and, by his habit, called out to her to study. He was disturbed to realise that his routine was about to change. The clock struck eight as he sat in the study room, alone, in silence, trying hard to concentrate on his work. His head ached as he asked Koeli for coffee. Even the coffee did not taste the same anymore. He lost his cool on Batuk when he came up with a maths problem.
“Bondita would have understood this method in a minute.”
“I am not Bondita.” Batuk had snapped at him for the first time. “I will go ask Dada.” He had walked away with his doubt to Som’s room. Aniruddha had stopped coming home until dinner time since that day.
A letter had come from Dehradun addressed to him. He stared at the envelope with her handwriting on it that said, “Mr. Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury”. Aniruddha was angry. The others got postcards before he did. Even Batuk, who was angry with her at first, seemed to be forgiving. He did not understand why he was angry when this was what he wanted all along. He had asked Mini about her, and Mini had told him she was disappointed as Bondita did not write to her at all. Did they upset her? He had spent the night staring at the sealed envelope, contemplating opening it. His anger got the better of him that night. He tossed the envelope into the bin and went to sleep. He twisted and turned till dawn and got up with a heavy head to pick up the envelope from the trash bin before anyone threw it away. He locked the letter away, never to open it again. He thought he would let her write one or two more times before he replied. She never wrote to him again. It angered Aniruddha even more.
He thought she would be back for Durga Pujo, but Jethu said that she wrote that they had no holidays and her final exams were around the corner. Batuk insisted that even if Bondita was not home, they should have cake on her birthday. Aniruddha could not get himself to eat a piece since that day. He was concerned by her silence. Did she make friends? Whom did she ask when she had questions? Who cleared her doubts? Who talked to her when she was scared or overwhelmed? Did she not miss home? Thamma and Jethu had taken a trip with Bihari accompanying them to Dehradun soon after Durga Pujo. It became a tradition for them to visit her after Pujo, and they would take holidays to Rishikesh, Haridwar, and Mussoorie. They would bring back pictures. Aniruddha resisted looking at the pictures. But he had heard about her life there, her new friends, and her exam results. He thought about asking Jethu if he should accompany them on a holiday. But he always backed out at the last moment. Once, Thamma had asked him if he wanted to visit the flower valley with them.
“Did… umm… Bondita thinks you need someone to accompany you?” Thamma did not understand his question. He lied that he was busy.
Aniruddha thought of picking up the phone and dialling the number he found on the card on Trilochon’s desk, the day he had a huge fight with his father over Mini. He doubted that his behaviour misled Mini, and the only person who could give him an unfiltered opinion was Bondita. He had stopped after dialling the third digit and put the phone down. She was sixteen. The last thing she needed was a distraction like that coming her way. Worse, what if she took Mini’s side? She was her friend, too. He had kept the receiver down and realised that Bondita was his only friend who could speak the truth he wanted to hear.
She did not come to Mini’s wedding. He never expected her to. After the first eight months, when she skipped everything they celebrated, he had stopped expecting her to show up. Two years later, Aniruddha opened his firm. He thought of sending her an invitation card to the opening and decided against it. Why would he push a friendship she did not care to keep? He was not angry; he was disappointed to know she did not need his help anymore. She did not need to lean on him when she was in trouble. She was growing up.
Jethu had told him Bondita decided to take up law. When Jethu and Thamma showed their doubt, Aniruddha found himself advocating on her behalf for them not to hinder her dreams. He wanted to know if he could help. Jethu said everything was done, and she would be put up in a hostel in Kolkata. He hoped that would mean she would be visiting for the weekends. She did not. To make it worse, when Durga Puja came, Thamma said she was enjoying some theme pujo experience in Kolkata. For four years straight. It angered Aniruddha more. Did she have no attachment to her roots? He was scared of his thoughts. Chandannagore was as little home to her as was Kolkata. He understood that a girl her age craved the freedom she had in Kolkata.
It would be a lie if he said that he did not drive by her college or hostel sometimes. If he stopped at the signal beside her college, he hoped to spot her in the crowd someday. Just to know she was fine. He would not approach her. But then, why wouldn’t he? She never told him that she never wanted to see him or that she was angry with him. Maybe she didn’t, but the absence of letters did. Aniruddha had taken a U-turn around her hostel even after deciding to visit her. What would he say? What if she did not like him meeting her like that? What if she found it embarrassing to answer her friends who he was? Perhaps they did not know much about her life.
The moment he had overheard Jethu speak to Thamma about bringing her home, he had offered to drive there himself. He was the one who convinced them that it was not safe for her to travel alone on a train or with a driver. He had played out a conversation in his head a thousand times on his way. He tapped on the steering wheel impatiently, nervously biting his lip while approaching the hostel.
“Who are you looking for?” The watchman had asked.
“Umm… I am here for… Bondita … Das.” He smiled as the man nodded.
“Relation?” He asked.
“Family.” Aniruddha shook his head.
The man went inside, and a sudden downpour began as soon as he parked the car near the front gate. He took the umbrella from the back seat, stepped out and straightened his shirt. He stared at the entrance, anticipating seeing her, but the heavy rain prompted him to take shelter. When Bondita walked out, she looked confused at the downpour, perhaps cursing herself inwardly for not bringing an umbrella. Aniruddha forgot everything he had planned to tell her at that very moment as he watched her, unaware of his presence, as she eyed the car. He had walked up to her, wondering if he could still rightfully read her mind. The surprise in her eyes was worth his waiting. But it did not escape Aniruddha that even in the familiarity of her appearance, there was an unfamiliarity of adulthood. He had never imagined seeing her as a quiet, collected woman. He remembered the unfiltered banter of the teenager, full of energy. A part of him was disappointed with her monosyllabic answers, but he wanted to make sure they did not start with any grudges they held against each other after so long.
The moment she credited him for her success, Aniruddha knew he needed to guide her and make sure she worked the right cases for a good career. He was also worried about her stepping into the professional world ruled by men. He was protective. He knew if she worked for him, he would know she was safe. He did not know he would grow to admire how she thought about morals in the profession, how she helped the needy even if she was not paid and how she was eager to learn and grow, just the way he remembered her to be. He did not know that even after so many years, he would remember the taste of coffee she made or could read her mind the way he used to. He was discovering her presence in his life all over again.
He thought he was used to people leaving, people drifting away and being alone. The day he expected her at dinner and was disappointed by her absence made him realise he was not.
She was oddly the only person in his life who came back after they left. Was that why he was comfortable letting his guard down and being vulnerable?
Aniruddha turned on his back, slammed his head into his pillow and screamed into it.
“Urgh.” He let out his frustration as he realised in retrospect that he had let her see his fears, tears and shattered, broken soul. He had allowed her into a space he never wanted anyone to walk into. He hated the feeling of vulnerability. The thought that she could judge him if she wanted to. What if she thought he was weak, unlike men who did not cry?
He shook his head and sat up, holding the towel at his waist as he eyed the room, looking for his pyjamas. She would never judge him, would she? The last thing he wanted to see in the eyes that always admired and idolised him was pity. Aniruddha was bothered by how easily she wanted to leave again. He reminded himself that if she did feel like she had a better life elsewhere, he had no right to stop her. He had no right to hold her back, selfishly. But could he cope with losing his friend again? He shook his head, remembering how he was scolded into taking medicines and visiting temples. His mother would laugh at how he obeyed her. She would say, Look, she made you do what I could not. Aniruddha’s heart skipped a beat. He needed to stop. He needed to check himself. He could never expect her to do the things she did for him, yet he did. He ordered her to make coffee and take care of his belongings like he had the right over her. But did he not? She never opposed it. Why would she? She feels grateful and compelled, you fool. She can’t say no to you the way she can’t say no to Jethu. You should know better.
Aniruddha found the pyjamas and abandoned his towel for them as it dawned on him that the blanket was wet. Cursing himself, he removed it from the bed and pulled the shawl from his chair. It smelled of her. Aniruddha found himself stirring uneasily at how it comforted him. He made himself believe it was the warmth of the shawl on a cold night, nothing more. He reminded himself that with the new day, he needed to make amends. He needed to stop being unhealthily dependent on her for things that seemed to run fine when she was not around. He could not let her affect him again if she chose to leave. He did not need her.
