Trilochon’s only desire for Som’s wedding was for it to be so grand that the entire Chandannagar remembered it for the longest time. He had also invited the leaders of the opposition, ministers and even the CM, and if rumours were to be believed, he would accept the invitation. That meant trying to impress him for a ticket to the next Lok Sabha elections. He knew the only way to do so was also to showcase Som as a prodigy. Their family name was enough to earn votes for the party in the area.
“Perhaps you could tell him about Somnath Babu’s involvement in some of the projects here. Like the slum area where water was flooding the pathways…” Poritosh had suggested.
“But it was done by…” Bapi Da had stopped as Trilochon shook his head, “How does it matter who did it? What matters is that we say Som did it.” They agreed.
“Jyatha Moshai.” Bondita walked into his room, not expecting the elderly men from the Party office to be there.
“Bolo, Maa.”
“The Gaye Holud is here.” She smiled. “How are you, Kaku?” She addressed Poritosh, who smiled.
“Take them downstairs and make sure they have breakfast before they leave,” Trilochon instructed.
“No, no, Trilochon Babu, we will come by for the wedding…” The men shook their heads reluctantly.
“Kaku, please don’t go without having some Koraishutir Kochuri.” Bondita watched the men exchange glances. “They are being freshly made.” She led them downstairs. Batuk’s friends from school had come over for the invitation, and he was busy allotting them chores.
“Batuk!” Bondita called out as he eyed her in the yellow saree and red blouse. “Go see if Poritosh Kaka is being served sweets, I have to check the Holud Bata…”
“Why are you dressed like a bride?” He taunted Bondita, amused. Bondita narrowed her eyes at him.
“Don’t listen to him, Bondita. You look pretty. Prettier now that you have grown.” Bondita looked a little startled at the praise coming from Batuk’s friend, Sudeb. “Yes, remember how she used to be…” Kaustav, another friend of Batuk’s, agreed, “Frail and …” Bondita smiled faintly, asking them how they were.
“Are you married?” Sudeb asked as she shook her head.
“No, I have just started practice…” She wiped her hand in the anchol as she eyed Batuk not coming back from the dining area.
“Are you a doctor?” Sudeb sounded impressed.
“No, a Lawyer…” Kaustav found that funny, much to Bondita’s surprise.
“What are you chuckling about?” She asked.
“Sudeb here is single, looking for someone. I am sure he would have asked you the question had you not been someone who can fight divorce cases for alimony.” He patted Sudeb’s back as he smiled sheepishly. Bondita looked a little offended.
“I am not a divorce lawyer, and even if I were…” She wanted to give him a piece of her mind. While eighty per cent of marriages in India took dowry illegally, the laws and conditions for alimony were way stricter, unlike what they believed.
“Bondita?” Aniruddha interrupted their conversation from near the stairs as he removed his glasses and eyed the men. “Have our guests eaten?” He eyed Kaustav and Sudeb.
“Oh no, no, Dadabhai, we will go see if Batuk needs our help first…” They walked away, arms on each other's shoulders, towards the kitchen area as Bondita exhaled, eyeing Aniruddha, who watched them go with narrowed eyes.
“What were they…” He turned to her as she seemed to be in a hurry.
“I have to go check the…” She left as Aniruddha stood there wondering. He had heard the awkward conversation play out from the stairs and decided to intervene. He had no idea why Batuk’s friends would be interested in Bondita, but he was sure she would not be. Not about such shallow creeps.
“If you look like that, you should know how to handle such attention.” He said almost to himself.
“Who are you talking to?” Aniruddha was startled by his cousin Nikhil’s words.
“I… nobody…” He shook his head. “Come, let's sit in the study. It will be more peaceful than the living room.” He offered.
Nikhil had just arrived from Mumbai, which used to be Bombay, when his mother, Aniruddha’s mother’s only sister, moved there with her husband. Nikhil was the closest in age to Aniruddha, younger than him by only two years. He was not married, and if rumours were to be believed among the grapevine of relatives Somnath paid attention to, he swung the other way.
“Doesn’t seem like it.” Somnath had remarked. Aniruddha had a different outlook towards it. “Should he stamp it on his forehead that he is gay?”
“No, but… You can tell, they look feminine.” Somnath seemed amused.
“They are people like you and me. Not aliens.” Aniruddha had stopped the discussion. He loved Nikhil like a younger brother and never wanted him to be treated differently. But there was also a part of Aniruddha who, despite being understanding or open-minded, did not quite understand Nikhil or people like him. All his life, in the little he had known about sexuality, to men around him, women had always been attractive; that was how humans were supposed to be. The primary need of any relationship was procreation, as most people would believe. Aniruddha would not agree because he was bothered to even think that the identity of women like his mother, even in death, was as a wife and mother and not an individual who was more than that. Women were not supposed to believe that was their goal in life, some sort of achievement. Of course being a mother was a lot of responsibility, the molding of a person was in her hands, but Aniruddha remembered his mother as more than that, a woman who could knit so well that the best sweaters abroad had competition, her voice when she hummed alone in the kitchen was one of the most melodious ones he had heard. She was more aware of the world than his father ever was. If she were there, she would not have let Nikhil feel different even if she did not understand him; Aniruddha was sure of that.
When Nikhil’s closeted life became public knowledge, although Aniruddha tried to be less judgmental than his brothers, he still could not quite wrap his head around the idea. But ever since he had arrived from Mumbai, the relatives seemed to be avoiding Nikhil, speaking in hushed tones, whispering gossip and making it apparent that he was not one of them. Aniruddha found Nikhil pretending not to be bothered by the change of behaviour. He asked Nikhil about his plans, and he wanted to move to a place where nobody would know him. It bothered Aniruddha, whose entire fundamentals of freedom were questioned by the way he saw Nikhil being treated. Bondita was either unaware of the gossip or she did not care. Either way, Nikhil had formed quite a rapport with Bondita, whom he addressed as “Bon” as a short form of her name, as well as meaning sister in Bengali.
Nikhil walked into the study room and lingered around the wall with the certificates and medals, class pictures and achievements on display.
“After you, Bondita seems to be the most intelligent one here.” Aniruddha had just taken a seat on the couch when Nikhil remarked. “Batuk seems lazy, and Som… I think he is too caught up with what is expected of a good son.”
“You have observed a lot in these few days.” Aniruddha showed a hint of amazement as Nikhil smirked and offered him a cigarette, which he refused.
“Well, when people spend their entire day observing you, you tend to develop a habit of observing them back.” He lit his smoke and exhaled. “It's weird to feel seen all the time.” They were interrupted by the sound of conch shells and ululation coming from the courtyard. It faded into chatter and laughter after three rounds, and Nikhil continued. “Come by Mumbai sometime. I have a flat by the sea in Bandra. Nice view.”
“You live alone?” Aniruddha asked, “Mashi Mesho…”
“They won’t live with…” Nikhil stopped as he puffed on the cigarette. “Umm… I have a roommate…” His choice of words made Aniruddha frown.
“You mean partner?” He asked. Nikhil smiled, “What, you are going to judge me for that?”
“No, absolutely not.” Aniruddha shook his head firmly. “I am happy for you.”
“His name is Sahil.” Nikhil smiled faintly. After telling his parents, this was the first time he shared about his partner. Aniruddha looked nonchalant. “What about you?” Nikhil searched for an ashtray, the absence of which in the room made him throw the cigarette butt out of the window. He watched Aniruddha turn the page of a magazine and smiled. “Do you have someone?” Aniruddha shook his head. “No, I am afraid I have no time for anyone else in my life. Anyone new means a lot of pressure. To impress, to keep, to feel secure and vulnerable with. I don’t have a place in my life for anyone…”
“Makes sense. Then what about someone you already know?” Nikhil asked as Aniruddha looked up from the magazine with a confused glance through his glasses. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… someone who might be around you and you can skip the whole formality to a meaningful companionship…” Nikhil shrugged. “Someone you might like in your circle…”
“You see, Nikhil…” Aniruddha put away the magazine. “My circle is mostly about work. Most of them don’t get it either. I don’t just need a partner. I need someone who would understand my work, who would respect my unpaid jobs when I choose to spend my holiday at some village, who would be part of this family; make Batuk feel at home whenever he comes home…” He stopped as Nikhil smiled.
“So you gave it some thought?” Aniruddha was caught off guard by Nikhil’s observation. He smiled awkwardly.
“I mean, I am not a robot devoid of human emotions.” Aniruddha shook his head, “I am about to turn forty and right now, all these seem too much work and too unrealistic…”
“I understand the feeling. I met my partner at a party last year.” Nikhil spoke as he perched himself on the window pane. “You see, I was also losing hope in love. Its definition keeps changing as we grow older, I guess. It's hard enough to admit to yourself that you are different, then you have to convince the world that it's normal, you have to see your parents get hurt…” Nikhil sighed. “I thought of getting married just to make them happy once… Once, I was on the verge of killing myself when a boyfriend refused to tell his parents about his truth.” Aniruddha looked worried at Nikhil, who smiled. “And then I met him. He was a friend of a friend. Things were so easy with him, I never realised I liked him until he said so himself. Sometimes we don’t see it right in front of our eyes.” Aniruddha smiled at Nikhil reassuringly. “I am glad you did. But I also feel that not everyone is cut out for that kind of story. Some of us are lone wolves and are better that way.” Nikhil agreed. “Well, before I leave, Bon said I must visit your firm; she was gushing about it.” Aniruddha smiled.
“She gushes about everything. It's a small firm…” Aniruddha shook his head modestly. “You are most welcome.” Nikhil nodded and then eyed the doorway as the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard slowly started coming inside.
“You know something silly?” He smiled faintly. “I always wanted to get married, I love all the rituals and stuff. But I never pictured the other person in that frame.” Aniruddha walked up to him and patted his back reassuringly, exchanging a smile. It was then that they heard the sound of anklets and turned.
“There you are, hiding!” Bondita narrowed her eyes at Nikhil as Aniruddha stepped away, eyeing the bowl of turmeric paste in her hand. Her cheeks were yellow, and her hair was dishevelled.
“No, not that!” Nikhil shook his head, trapped between her and the window. “I will jump.” Bondita chuckled.
“What, Nikhil Da? You know turmeric is good for the skin; it glows. Why else do you think I let them apply it to me?” She shook her head. “Come on…”
“Does it make the skin glow?” Nikhil narrowed his eyes. “What kind of an excuse is that?”
“A valid one.” Bondita put some turmeric paste on his cheek “You will see.” Batuk walked in, drenched in yellow from head to toe, as Aniruddha looked alarmed at him, “You! Get out of my study before you ruin the furniture and paperwork.”
“Nikhil Da, whoever has the most amount of turmeric on them after washing off is next!” Batuk teased cluelessly.
“Is that why you are drenched, Batuk?” Nikhil teased back with a smile. “High hopes.” Bondita chuckled at Batuk before sounding alarmed.
“I must wash my face immediately. Or else Thamma will start…” Aniruddha eyed her, realising she knew of Kalindi’s plans. That was news to him.
“Oh, has she started already?” Nikhil asked.
“Tell me about it.” Bondita shrugged. She moved a little away from Nikhil’s side to Batuk’s side and could feel Aniruddha’s gaze travel with her as she looked up at him, a little scared. He looked a little disappointed.
“Thamma even made the photographer take her pictures in the saree.” Batuk chimed in.
“I'd better wash my face now.” Nikhil pointed at Batuk, “You should too if you don’t want to go to the wedding looking like a jaundiced patient.” Bondita turned to follow them out as Aniruddha murmured, “This is not even photogenic.”
“Pardon?” Bondita glanced over her shoulder, stopping on her way with the bowl in her hand.
“The saree, yellow, fades out your skin tone in pictures…” He said matter-of-factly.
“Are you trying to help Thamma get better pictures?” She frowned, turning to him in shock.
“Do you not want someone to like your picture?” He taunted. Bondita sighed.
“I have no time to explain myself.” She shook her head and was about to leave when Aniruddha tried to stop her, and his hand hit the bowl, which toppled over.
“My carpet!” He almost shrieked.
“The Holud!” Bondita gasped as she sat down to pick whatever little was left of the paste from the carpet onto the bowl. He sat down, followed her and proceeded to do the same. She was about to pick up the bowl when he held it and caught the bowl over her hand. Eyes met as Bondita gulped. She wanted to look away, yet she wanted to read what was in his mind. Aniruddha stared at her Kajal-smudged, tired face, looking at him in disbelief. He let go of the bowl first as she stood up, holding it firmly.
“Sorry.” He smiled faintly as she eyed him. “If anyone asks, blame me.”
“Oh, I will.” Bondita nodded angrily and walked away. He watched her go, with her messed-up braid swaying at her hip.
Aniruddha noticed the yellow stain on his fingers and looked up at the now-empty threshold. Was Trilochon right when he said she wanted marriage and children? That they were part of her dreams? It bothered Aniruddha. Did she like the attention from Batuk’s friends and, hence, did not cut them off? It was a feasible feeling for a girl her age to seek such validation in the attention of men. Aniruddha shook his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could not fit Bondita into the mould of being someone’s wife, someone’s lover or that girl who craved the male gaze. She was better than all the superficial dreams the world expected women to weave. Isn’t she?
Aniruddha had finished lunch when he heard Batuk telling Nikhil about his Alpona skills, which would be on display when the new bride came home. He was sitting by the entrance, with a bowl of colours, rice paste and a brush in hand. Nikhil looked unsure of his boasting as Bondita reassured him that Batuk was indeed one of the rare men good at such skilful chores.
“I can do that too, I can make an excellent Alpona.” Aniruddha chimed in as the trio looked at him keenly.
“We never saw you doing that, Dadabhai.” Batuk shook his head.
“Absolutely never.” Nikhil agreed.
“Nope.” Bondita shook her head.
“Fine, I will make one right now…” Aniruddha sat down on the floor, forcing Batuk to shift and lift the rolled-up sleeves of his Panjabi.
“No, you will ruin mine… Dadabhai…” Batuk stopped at his glare as he snatched the brush from his hand. Nikhil patted Batuk reassuringly as Bondita leaned, putting her hand on her knees for a better view. Aniruddha was suddenly alarmed by the sense of her breath near him as he shifted a little. “Move away, Bondita, I need the light.” Bondita frowned a little, straightening herself, exchanging a glance with an amused Nikhil, who gestured at her that the light was coming from the opposite side.
“There, I drew the Goddess’s feet. It's a little out of practice.”
“Are you sure it's the Goddess or…” Bondita looked amused.
“You drew two left feet, Dadabhai.” Batuk laughed. Nikhil joined in, high-fiving Bondita. Aniruddha suddenly seemed irked.
“Why will I do your chores, Batuk? Don’t I have work to do?” He got up in a hurry, stumbling a little on his Panjabi as Bondita held his upper arm in a reflex for him to balance himself. He walked away hurriedly towards Trilochon’s room.
“What’s wrong with him?” Nikhil wondered out loud. Bondita shook her head.
“Sometimes he just loses it, without rhyme or reason, Nikhil Da,” Batuk said in an intellectual tone. “Nobody can understand.” Nikhil laughed, amused. Bondita was called away by Kalindi to get ready for the Bor Jatri as she crossed over the threshold, careful enough not to spoil Batuk’s work and promising to come by and see the finished Alpona.
Trilochon had insisted that Bondita buy a new saree for the wedding and reception. She was going to wear a magenta saree with Baluchari work. Bondita had spent some time in one of the recent half-day trips to Kolkata to buy some imitation jewellery for herself, while Aniruddha met a confidential client. Kalindi brushed her hair, which she let loose on one side and put a white rose in it. Along with her imitation choker and sitahar, she also wore Kalindi’s gold bangles and was about to put on her jhumkas when Koeli came from the house to inform her that Trilochon wanted them there before Som left. Kalindi wore a white Dhakai that Bondita had brought with her first salary as she walked into the house with Bondita to find the groom, and the wedding party was about to leave.
“You look so good in the saree.” Trilochon praised Bondita before discreetly telling her to look for Aniruddha. He was late to join the wedding party. Bondita nodded as she walked upstairs and stopped at the threshold of his room. Aniruddha was in a white Panjabi with red Kantha Stitch Work on the borders and a white Dhuti, struggling with putting the off-white Pashmina Shawl over his shoulder. He did it once, and it looked messy, so he did it again, and it looked like he was wearing a bundle.
“How do you do this…” He murmured to himself as Bondita stepped inside, looking amused. The sound of her anklets made him look up at her as he noticed the circle she drew with eyeliner on her forehead was not perfect. She swept her hair to the back, as it swayed by her waist, and he noticed the white rose, the smell of which hit his nostrils as she came closer.
“Give me that.” She said in a scolding tone as he surrendered himself.
“They should put up step-by-step tutorials for people like you.” Bondita joked as she took half a turn around him, fixing the shawl from the back. His gaze followed her, first in person, then in the reflection in the mirror as she stood behind him. He watched her face turn from narrowed brows to a satisfying smile as she walked up to the mirror in front of him and checked her hair.
“Hurry, everyone is waiting…” She turned to leave as he asked, “Looks good, doesn’t it?” as he observed himself in the mirror. She nodded, straightening the pillow, pulling the curtain, and finally putting her hand on the switchboard. “Yes, everything looks good on you.” The moment she said that, Bondita’s heart skipped a beat. Aniruddha looked up at her as she murmured something to herself and ran downstairs. His cheeks felt a rush of warmth as he smiled to himself. Aniruddha was about to step out when something cold pricked his foot. He picked it up to inspect it. It was one of the pairs of Jhumkas Bondita was wearing. He needed to give it back, so he put it in his pocket.
Bondita was busy handing the boxes of jewellery to Trilochon for the Ashirvaad and then attending to the gifts Som received to be handed over to the driver to take home. She came back inside the premises of the wedding hall just in time for the Subho Dristi. Bondita navigated her way towards the bride and groom, pushing through the crowd, murmuring apologies as she suddenly touched her ear and looked pale. One of the Jhumkas was missing. It was Kalindi’s gold pair from her wedding. How could she be so careless? Thamma would be very upset. She started looking in vain on the red carpet floor of the wedding hall, discreetly enough not to alarm Thamma or anyone else.
Aniruddha was making polite exchanges with Asha’s father when he noticed her look under the chair she sat in and around it. Bondita had moved away from the crowd towards the far end of the hall, looking over the lawn, when he followed her.
“Are you looking for something?” Bondita jolted at his words. She hid her earlobes with her hair and shook her head.
“Koi? Na toh.”
“It looked like you lost something.” He shrugged as she shook her head. Bondita shivered a little, perhaps because she was scared of losing Kalindi’s jewellery. Aniruddha eyed her shudders and shook his head. “Why do you not have a sweater in the cold? What is this style?” She eyed him, narrowing his eyes at her and fumbling. “I… I think… I lost Thamma’s earring…” She gulped.
“Oh, that.” He said something that was not coherent in the sound of ululation and cheers as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out the Jhumka. Bondita gasped.
“You hid it?” She was about to hit his arm as he moved away in a reflex.
“No, I did not. It was lying on the floor.” Bondita snatched it from his hand, suspiciously, as he watched her put the Jhumka back on her earlobe and move the hair away from it. Aniruddha watched her by stepping back with his arms folded and clearing his throat.
“You think I hid it?” Bondita nodded. “Batuk does that all the time and hides things.”
“I am not Batuk.” He shook his head, yet she was not convinced. Bondita adjusted her hair over the Jhumka and asked how she looked. Aniruddha nodded with a smile, without any words exchanged, as she turned to leave.
“What did you mean…?” Bondita looked a little unsure as he smiled, amused and added, “When you said I look good in everything?” Bondita’s heart skipped a beat as her throat felt dry. “I… mean… Thamma says so…”
“Does she?” Aniruddha raised his brows, amused.
Bondita looked up at his words briefly before she fumbled, “Yes…” and walked away. Aniruddha briefly stared at her move from one group to another, making conversation as she felt his eyes on her. Bondita was scared. Did he guess that she had a crush on him? If so, was he amused and entertained by it? But how could he…
Bondita tried hard not to look at him. She walked up to Kalindi and sat by her, watching the rituals. Aniruddha walked up to the other side of the Mandap and sat down in an empty chair beside one of his aunts, making conversation, his eyes travelling from the bride and groom to her and back. Bondita felt a little uneasy as she shifted, glancing over at him to find him staring more than once through the evening. She touched her face, unsurely adjusted her hair and could not understand what was wrong with her. After the wedding was over and dinner was served, Bondita found herself at the table opposite his, beside Batuk. The meat was spicy, and she realised she had lost her appetite for spice in her long hostel life as she tried the Roshogolla and ice cream in vain to calm her tongue. Her ears burned as she blinked away some tears, and Kalindi scolded her for not being able to digest “that little” spice. She stuck her tongue out and waved the cold air around it, trying to regain composure when Trilochon asked Batuk and her to see if the drivers were ready to take them home. She walked out to the garland-decorated gate, with the sparkly heart saying “Somnath weds Ashalata” above as she watched Batuk go towards the parking area.
“Here.” Something cold nudged at her hand as she turned to see Aniruddha with a bottle of cold soft drinks. She raised her brows as a teardrop trickled down her eye, and she sniffed.
“You have turned red.” He looked amused. “Have this.” She eyed the half-drunk bottle and straw.
“It's… someone else’s.” Bondita shook her head.
“Yes, mine. Do you have a problem?” Aniruddha pushed it in her hand and stepped out to look for Batuk when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed her shiver.
“Go inside, it's cold.” He scolded. She was about to when he stopped her. “Wait.” He unwrapped the shawl from around his Panjabi and wrapped it around Bondita’s shoulder as she looked up at him.
“You will catch a cold.” She sniffed again.
“So will you.” He shrugged with a smile, tapped her cold nose with his index finger like he used to when she was a child and left to find Batuk. Bondita stood there for a moment. With a sudden feeling in the pit of her stomach, she tried to calm herself as she walked inside the premises to inform Trilochon that they had found the drivers and that everyone should make their way out. Kalindi was seated across the room, and she walked up to Bondita with narrowed brows.
“Whose shawl is that?” She enquired. “Aniruddha Babu’s?” Bondita nodded, trying to get out of the shawl.
“If you were cold, you could have asked for mine.” Kalindi looked displeased. Bondita eyed her suspiciously at her tone as she corrected herself with, “He might feel cold outside.”
“I… will give this back.” She was about to turn when Batuk came and said the cars and bus were ready to take them home. The family would leave in the two cars and the guests on the bus. Batuk offered to accompany Binoy and Trilochon in his car while Nikhil and Aniruddha shared the car with Kalindi and Bondita.
As a habit, Aniruddha took the driving wheel as Kalindi stepped in the back seat, and he saw Bondita approach as he opened the passenger door for her. Bondita was about to step in when Nikhil jumped in, and Kalindi called her to the backseat. In a reflex, eyes met briefly, disappointed as she sat beside Kalindi, his shawl on her lap. Kalindi tapped at it to remind her to give it back to him.
“It's so foggy; be careful,” Nikhil said as they drove home.
Aniruddha handed the keys to the driver as he turned to see Bondita talking to Trilochon about the next day’s rituals before he went inside. Bondita turned and handed him the shawl back. “Here. Should I dry clean it?” He shrugged, taking the shawl as he sneezed. Bondita gasped. “If you fall sick, Thamma will scold me.” Aniruddha shook his head and sneezed again, making her laugh. He eyed her amused face as she said, “Tomorrow, tell Koeli didi to paste some Tulsi and honey and add…”
“You do it.” He interrupted, “I can’t instruct anyone.” He shrugged. Bondita stared at him hopelessly before she left.
Aniruddha walked back to his room, which he temporarily shared with Batuk and found the washroom occupied. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the spectacles on the bedside table, removing the gold buttons of his Panjabi, and his eyes fell on the shawl he had discarded on the chair. He picked it up to fold it when he could suddenly smell her in it. Aniruddha stopped folding the Shawl, lingered his finger on it and smiled as the image of her confused and often awkward stares came to mind.
“What are you smiling at?” Batuk startled him as he came out in a t-shirt, wiping his face with a towel. Aniruddha dropped the shawl on the chair, “Nothing, I am happy.”
“Oh yes, so am I… Baba was telling Jethu how nice it would be to have a woman in this house after so long, right?” Aniruddha smiled faintly, watching Batuk move to his side of the bed. His eyes travelled to the picture on the desk, of him, his brothers, and a little girl in braids, standing in front of them. Perhaps that was why he did not feel any different, for he realised for the first time, there had always been a woman in the house since she arrived from Alamethi.
