“Please, Sir, we were going to show the evacuation notice to the lawyer.” The older man with a salt and pepper beard and a bald head pleaded with the Judiciary official, who handed him a paper of illegal occupancy. The NGO stood on the ground of the property that belonged to the Bhowmicks. Their lawyer, Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury, had sent a notice of warning and evacuation that the NGO did not pay heed to. The man in charge looked least concerned at the plea of the older man. His hands were folded, eyes teary, as the men who came with the Bull Dozer to knock down the one-storey house with thatched roof broke down the board of the NGO.
“Why did you not show the notice then?” The man rebuked in a gruff voice.
“Because we thought it was some mistake.” Another man, relatively younger and calmer, came forward from the crowd that stood there watching as he spoke. “We got the land as a gift from Mr. Bhowmick some eleven years back to make the school for the orphans.”
“Then where is the deed?” The man rebuked. Aniruddha stood there, watching the hurt eyes of the orphan children who had come out of the adjacent property of the NGO that ran a healthcare centre and an orphanage to see the demolition of their school. Somewhere it did bother him, but as Mini’s representing lawyer, he needed to do the needful. He cleared his throat, realising the argument would become aggressive.
“Excuse me, but then ask your lawyer to come here, and we can talk.” The officer agreed with his words. “Perhaps they will understand the situation better than you are understanding it legally,” Aniruddha reassured.
“Yes, instead of wasting our time trying to make human chains to save your illegal building, call them.” The officer said gruffly. “Or else we will call the police for a forceful evacuation.”
“There is no need for that.” Aniruddha turned to the voice of Trilochon, who was greeted by the NGO members with folded hands and relieved faces. “They have a lawyer.”
“Who is it?” Aniruddha asked, searching through the paperwork to check if he had received any intimidation he might have missed.
“I am.” Bondita straightened the black waistcoat over her white shirt and walked up to the official, documents in hand. Aniruddha’s eyes followed her as his lips parted, but no words came out of them. His eyes hovered on her Kohl-drawn eyes, locks of hair sticking out of her French braid and pearl earrings.
“Do you have the deed?” The Officer asked. Bondita shook her head. “I am afraid I was appointed just this morning and…” She turned to Aniruddha, taking out a paper from her file. “Here is the intimidation. We are seeking time to show the deed.”
“What the…” Aniruddha was about to open his mouth when he spotted Mini behind her. She looked perplexed as she walked up to Aniruddha and said that she was brought here by Trilochon Babu. Aniruddha looked unsure as Mini tugged at him, whispering, “Hand the papers to her. We will see what happens.” He did, his eyes hovering over her face as she read the notice, her glossy lips parting to mouth some of the words, and she exhaled. He was aware of himself, noticing the rosy gloss she had applied, and he looked away to the papers handed to him. He cleared his throat, trying to sound professional. “Umm… this land belonged to Mr. Bhowmik. They have no deed. That is what Mrs Chatterjee is here to claim.”
“He gave it away as a gift.” Bondita shook her head at the notice. “For the NGO.”
“They can’t produce any papers.” He interrupted, trying to sound professional.
“I have eyewitnesses to the incident who had signed the said papers.” Bondita frowned slightly at him. He read the disappointment in her voice. It was as if to say he had not studied the case hard enough. Or perhaps she was upset with him for trying to remove the school. She should be. Trilochon nodded as he walked up beside her and eyed Saudamini disapprovingly. Aniruddha eyed him as Bondita spoke.
“Well, it is not enough. Witnesses can be swayed.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Trilochon’s brows shot up in an arc. Was he accusing his uncle of treachery in public?
“Then, instead of producing said notice to my client, you should perhaps look up the corporation data. This NGO has been functioning on this ground for over a decade. I am sure Mr. Bhowmik would have objected to the illegal occupation of his land when he was alive.”
“My client claims that her father was forced by said local authorities to give away the land.” Aniruddha nodded. Trilochon’s jaws tightened.
“Mr. Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury.” She looked up at him, her kohl-smudged eyes piercing through his stare as she tried hard to pronounce his name without skipping a heartbeat. “If that is the case, you should take matters to court and prove your allegation and not ask for a demolition just because my client had no legal guidance. Because hearsay will not be enough. We don’t accept this notice.” She shook her head at the officer.
“Then prove that the land is a gift, and we can settle it off court.” He said, almost like a challenge. “What?” Saudamini looked a little puzzled. “But you said…”
“I know what I said, Mini. Trust me.” Aniruddha interrupted her. “I am sure you can take the same path through the corporation that you suggested I take, Miss Bondita Das?” Bondita inhaled as she eyed Trilochon and whispered. “Can your men…”
“I will send someone right away,” he nodded and reassured the people of the NGO.
“We will take a week and arrange for a meeting with said documents. If we can’t, then we will accept your notice and evacuate.” Bondita made him nod. “But you cannot demolish the building under false pretences. Till then, the NGO will function the way it normally does. The girls go to school here. If you interrupt their education…” He watched her eyes sparkle in disappointment as he nodded in agreement and stepped out of the way as the children who stood behind her looked visibly pleased. Bondita handed the notice back to him before he could react, inhaling to control her emotions and walked ahead to open the gates for the children. They cheered, and the officer mumbled about a waste of time and left the premises.
“Thank You, Didi.” Some of them made her smile. “Don’t worry, I will not let you lose your school. No matter what.” She reassured them. Saudamini eyed Trilochon, who shook his head at her.
“I hope you know it is nothing personal.” She started as he nodded at her sharply. “I hope you know the same.” He eyed his nephew staring at Bondita in the distance, advising the administrators to continue their work while she did hers. One of the girls asked her to see their classroom, to which she nodded and obliged.
A faint smile appeared on the edge of Aniruddha’s lips as he adjusted his glasses on his nose. Trilochon cleared his throat and turned to Saudamini. “I suppose you are coming home?” He asked as she nodded. “Why don’t you come with me, and Bondita can go to work with Aniruddha? Won’t that be fine with you?” He asked his nephew, who looked a little clueless. “What?”
“I said I am taking Saudamini home, and you can give Bondita a ride to work.” Trilochon eyed him as he smiled sheepishly. “Of course.”
He watched the cars leave and the administration resume their work, sparing him angry glances as he waited by the gate, and there was no sign of Bondita. He reluctantly pushed through the gate and walked into the courtyard as he heard her voice coming from a room. She was with the girls in a classroom. He watched her laugh at something they said and then ask them if she could donate some money for their books. He suddenly remembered another day in another classroom.
“This is our classroom.” Bondita creaked a door open into an empty hut, with the fallen roof giving way to water that had filled up the floor. She gasped. “Our books.” She exclaimed as she tried to wade through the water, and Aniruddha stopped her by holding her shoulder in a reflex. “Don’t. Snakes.” He reminded her. Bondita looked wide-eyed and alarmed at him. “Lata. Lata. Lata.” He frowned at her, murmuring cluelessly. “We don’t call them by names; it attracts them.” Aniruddha could have said it was a superstition, but he did not. Instead, he apologised to the ten-year-old child living in a snake-infested village for not knowing better. “Our books are all ruined. What will Master Moshai teach us now?” She sounded worried. Aniruddha watched her walk out of the fallen hut to the courtyard and sit down below a banyan tree, pouting. For the first time, Aniruddha saw a glimpse of the child Bondita as her eyes teared up.
“Don’t cry,” he tried to reassure in vain. “I am sure some aid will come to the school and buy you new books.” She looked up at him in disbelief. “All aides go to the boys' school.” Tears trickled down her cheek. “None of us has money to buy the books. You know what that means, Babu?” She sounded anxious. “It means some more girls would not attend school. They will be married off.” She wiped her tears. Aniruddha looked around the fairly empty courtyard and was in two minds about his pants getting dirty. Bondita sniffed. So he sat down in front of her, in the dusty soil and reassured her. “If nobody gives you books, I will.” She stared at him wide-eyed. “With my saved pocket money. I promise.” She smiled gratefully. “Will you really do that, Babu?” He nodded. “Yes, stop crying.” He watched her wipe her tears. “But first, we need to fix the school itself.” He murmured to himself.
Aniruddha watched Bondita waving goodbye to the girls, who seemed inspired by her words as he smiled proudly at her. She had come a long way from the helpless ten-year-old he knew to the woman other ten-year-olds aspired to become. He was glad to be part of her inspiring journey. One of the girls spotted him standing there and smiling to himself before Bondita did.
“That bad man is still here.” She informed Lawyer Didi.
“Who?” Bondita sounded clueless as her smile changed to confusion.
“That Bodmash Lok.” The girl pointed at him as he found some odd twenty pairs of eyes on him, and he looked away, taking the phone out of his pocket. Bondita followed their gaze to him and frowned. She expected Jyatha Moshai to wait, and not him, especially with the way he had been nonchalant recently. She waved the girls goodbye and walked up to him as he acted like he had just seen her. “We will be late for the office.” He murmured as she approached him, and he opened the car door for her. Bondita stepped inside, eyeing him with a hint of displeasure. He took the wheel and put on his seat belt. “Umm…” His hand reached the radio as she murmured, “I can do with some peace.” He stopped wondering if she skipped breakfast.
“Do you want to stop for tea?” He offered as she shook her head. “We are late for work, remember?”
“Is something wrong?” He frowned, his eyes on the road.
“Everything is fine.”
“But you sound … upset?” He wondered.
“Now you can read minds?” She shook her head. Aniruddha cleared his throat. If she said she was fine, she probably was. If something bothered her, she would speak of it. She always did. “Alright.”
“Alright? I tell you I am fine, and you accept it?” Bondita eyed him, rolling her eyes as he looked confused. “What is that supposed to mean? What am I supposed to do?”
“Never mind.” She shook her head and stared out of the window, fuming.
“No… Tell me.” He stopped the car, alarming her. “What is bothering you?” She stared back at him, his face wearing a clueless frown, his right hand on the wheel, his left travelling behind her as he leaned in. “What is the problem?”
“You don’t know?” Bondita taunted. Aniruddha’s jaws tightened. “How am I supposed to know when you don’t tell me? I can’t read minds.” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. Bondita could see him lose patience with her.
“Well, today you are here to uproot a school for the underprivileged.” She eyed him as he narrowed his brows. “Who knows… tomorrow you will work for some big corporation and try to uproot poor villages to build a resort or something.”
She sounded upset.
“I was doing Mini a favour. She is a friend. This has nothing to do with my morals if you think I have lost them.” He shook his head. “She won’t come back once…”
“Then why did neither of you tell me?” She interrupted.
“Why should we tell you?” He retorted in a reflex. Bondita looked a little taken aback. Eyes met as Aniruddha sensed her uneasiness and Bondita lowered her gaze, suddenly alarmed at the right she asserted and demanded. “I mean… yes, you are right. My bad, I apologise. Let’s go.” She looked away, hoping he would start the car. Aniruddha leaned back to his seat and wondered aloud as if he were alone, “So what is the issue? Me, apparently losing my morals or not telling that I was helping her with the school?” He put the key into the ignition again, and she looked out of the window. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” She murmured to herself and shook her head.
“Then don’t assume things. I still work for the people.” He almost scolded. “Yeah, you are helping a friend.” She nodded.
“You also did not inform me when you decided you would go to Alamethi. For god’s sake.” He reminded her.
“Perhaps you were too busy to hear me out.” Her tone appeared to be taunting. Could it be that she was jealous? Aniruddha had been aware of her jealousy when he bought different things for her and Batuk, but never really noticed her being jealous of Mini, whom she adored. Bondita eyed him through the side mirror briefly as she exhaled.
“Dekh, you look so beautiful.” Saudamini adjusted the drape of her saree as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing one of Mini Didi’s sarees to Saheli Didi’s wedding in the neighbourhood. Mini Didi had done her hair and added the jewellery from her box. She bought those from Kolkata; nobody could say they were not real, she had said. Bondita suddenly looked all grown up and nice as she looked at herself in the mirror to put on some Kajol and Bindi. She watched Mini Didi do her makeup so easily, applying all kinds of colour palettes to her eyes and cheeks from an imported makeup box as she waited patiently for them to leave. After an hour or so, Mini Didi was done getting ready, and she looked beautiful. She took her by the hand and they went to the wedding house. Bondita’s eyes spotted Thakuma and Jyatha Moshai chatting with some neighbours while Batuk was already at the food counter. She felt a tap on her shoulder as both Saudamini and she turned to spot Aniruddha in a blue Panjabi and white Pyjama.
“How are we looking?” Saudamini suddenly made Bondita’s heart skip a beat at her question. “Tell me who looks better, me or her.” Aniruddha eyed them briefly as colour flushed from Bondita’s cheeks. She was fifteen, she could not resist acknowledging how handsome he looked, and oddly, she could read his mind as his eyes hovered on how pretty Mini Didi looked before he turned to her and smiled. Bondita knew he would tell her she was looking prettier, even if he did not think so, just because she was younger.
“Of course you do, Mini Didi. Is that even a question? Have we ever met any woman as pretty as you?” She praised Saudamini, who smiled, embarrassed. “You should think you are pretty too, Bondita; admire yourself more.” She reminded. Aniruddha watched them, not indulging in the conversation as he gestured at the Phuchka stall. “Anyone?”
“Me.” Bondita raised her hand as Saudamini shook her head, murmured something about a friend she was looking for and walked away. Bondita walked up to the Phuchka, took the leaf and turned to find Aniruddha had not followed her there. Instead, he was laughing at something Saudamini’s friend was saying. Bondita suddenly felt left out and jealous. She concentrated on the Phuchka, which suddenly felt tasteless. She joined Batuk for dinner, and once they were done, she told Thamma that she was sleepy and had school the next day.
“I can take her back. Batuk is going too.” Aniruddha had interrupted, “You can stay a bit longer.” Thamma had declined. However, once she reached home, Bondita noticed that she had left her homework copy at his work desk and needed to fetch it. She carefully removed her jewellery and tiptoed back to the Roy Chowdhury house, still in her saree. She was looking for her copy when he walked in.
“Can I help you?” She looked alarmed as he folded his arms to his chest and watched her search. “I was just here to look for a copy.” She took out the brown paper-wrapped notebook and checked her name. “Here.” She waved it at him, “Goodnight.”
“Why did you dress like that?” His question made her stop right in front of him as he eyed her. “Like what?” She suddenly felt conscious of his scrutinising glance. “I did not put any makeup on because you scolded me last time.”
“Not that,” he shook his head. “Beyond your age. You look like a teenager.”
“I am a teenager.” She frowned. He shook his head. “Not the school-going kind, the college kind.” He approached her and picked the sticker Bindi from her forehead, surprising her. “You don’t need all this extravaganza. You look better, simple.” Bondita’s eyes widened briefly as her cheeks felt warm, and she stammered. “Wh… what?”
“Find your own thing; don’t follow Mini blindly into everything. This is her style, not yours.” He shook his head as he bent a little to reach her height. “Bondita, it is very important to find what you feel comfortable with and what defines you at your age and not follow anyone else.” He made her nod, “Am I making sense?” She was unsure even when she agreed. It reflected on her face as he exhaled and smiled. “Look, your age is like wet clay, you can be moulded into anything that inspires you. I get that. But you are not Mini, so why pretend to do everything the way she wants? What do you want?”
“But… I thought… You liked how she looked.” Bondita stammered and looked away. Aniruddha was suddenly amused. “She looks her age; if you dress like her, you don’t look your age,” he said, making her look up. “I know everyone wants to grow up fast, but it is important to enjoy where you are before you do. Don’t grow up that fast, Bondita.” She watched him leave as all she could gather from his words was that he liked Mini Didi the way she was dressed, but did not like her when she did the same. Bondita was upset. So upset that she did not visit him or Mini Didi over the next two days. But when she did, and Mini Didi hugged her, saying how much she had been missed, Bondita felt guilty of being angry or jealous of her. She had promised herself she would never be that petty again.
“I am sorry.” She murmured as he approached the office. “I … it's your client - legal confidentiality. It's not my business.”
Aniruddha shook his head. “I thought I should not say no after we became the friends we used to be after so many years.”
“You thought right.” She reassured him with a nod. “Mini Didi should have good memories to remember Chandannagar by and keep in touch.” She made him nod before he entered the office, and she followed.
At midday, he was standing by the staircase, discussing a case with a partner, when an old man walked in, led by the receptionist, who directed him towards Bondita’s cubicle. Bondita let the man sit and offered water as he eyed her between his conversations.
Bondita checked the proof the man had brought with him and murmured, “I need to consult with Sir about this once.”
“Sir?” The old man asked.
“Yes, he specialises in the matter.” She spotted him by the stairs and stood up from her chair. “Come with me.”
“This is Mr. Ghosh, and he is the one I told you about who can guide you. Advocate Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury.” The old man extended his hand, and Aniruddha shook it and led him to his chamber. He watched Bondita brief him and leave, but what he noticed was how her tone changed when she took his name. He realised why her addressing him bothered him. It sounded so alien in her voice, almost like it was not his name. She tried to keep a straight face and failed miserably as her voice sounded shy and conscious, almost funny. When the client left, and Aniruddha was alone, he was amused at how he had never noticed that she never took his name. So when she did, it sounded odd. It reminded him of his mother and how she always addressed his father with Shunchen. Aniruddha wondered about his conversation with Mini about Bondita leaving and, subsequently, the recent events. A strange uneasiness filled his being as he tried to brush off the only possible explanation he could find for all of it. It was impossible. Wasn’t it?
Kalindi was not pleased with Bondita’s decision to go back to Sunderbans, even if it was for a few days. It took Trilochon and Som hours to convince her. First, she was angry and lamented that everyone was crazy to put Bondita in such danger. Then she cried that Bondita was going out of hand, doing as she pleased. Then she calmed down and heard Trilochon explain to her the importance of Bondita’s work in the villages. She would not even stay in Alamethi, he reassured her. After three hours, Kalindi gave her blessings to Bondita, who began packing her bags for the scheduled camp next weekend.
“Take some biscuits and cakes for the journey.” Kalindi reminded Bondita. “Should I make some tiffin for you?” She shook her head, “If I get hungry, I will eat on the way.” She insisted. Kalindi eyed the duffel bag Bondita had packed and asked, “How long are you planning to spend there?”
“Well, I have two days of duty, one at Alamethi and another at Sonakhali. So hopefully I will be back by Tuesday.” Bondita was checking the contents of her purse as she spoke.
“Do you need some cash?” Kalindi enquired. She shook her head with a smile.
“I have some money saved.” Bondita reassured her, “And I will get reimbursements.”
“Bondita, are you sure you want to meet them?” Kalindi asked. It did not escape Bondita that ever since they came to Chandannagor, she had never mentioned their names. Bondita nodded. “I am sure I did nothing wrong, so why will I be the one running from them?”
“Who gave you this stupid idea?” Kalindi rebuked. “Trilochon Babu?”
Bondita did not respond. She smiled to herself as Kalindi walked away from her bedroom, mumbling that she would hurt herself in the process. Bondita picked up the pamphlet from the desk and started reading the rules.
Koeli came by Bondita’s window, informing her that Choto Malik wanted to see her. It was urgent. Bondita eyed the clock, about to strike midnight, as she grabbed the hoodie from the chair to put over her loungewear, and she walked to the study. She wondered if she had done something wrong for him to call her at this hour.
Bondita stopped at the threshold of the open door, watching Aniruddha trying to read something by narrowing his eyes, in a file.
“Where are your glasses?” She asked as he looked up.
“I left them upstairs.” Bondita shook her head and turned to get his glasses as he stopped her.
“It's alright, I don’t need them.” Bondita stopped, hoping to know the purpose of her visit, when he pulled a paper from the bunch and handed it to her.
“I changed the clause so that you can work both jobs.” Bondita eyed him, confused, as he said, “You can take off on the days they have camp.”
“But you said…”
“I said to take the job in Kolkata, not to leave my… the firm.” Aniruddha sounded irked. “You seem to be hearing more than what is said these days.”
“I can’t help but feel unwanted if people are rude to me.” Bondita snapped back as she eyed the contract form with the clause of temporary work marked.
“Nobody is rude to you. It's practical…” He stopped at her stare as she eyed the paperwork she had stacked in the evening, messed up.
“This says I can work both jobs?” She looked unsure. He eyed her as he said formally, “Sign it.”
“Could this not wait?” She murmured. “I need to read it.” He shook his head.
“Read and sign it, now.” He was assertive. She sighed and read through the clause, taking her time. He watched her from behind his desk, his eyes not missing her expressions as she mouthed the words in the paper silently and nodded, taking a pen from the pen stand and signing it.
“Look at that.” She tried to lighten the air of tension around the silent room as she shook her head. “You are just scared you will need to hire an assistant when I am gone, and you won’t find one who stacks your papers a hundred times a day outside office work.” Bondita chuckled a little, amused. Aniruddha eyed the sign, taking the papers.
“I just don’t want you to be stuck somewhere you don’t want to be.” He sounded sincerely concerned.
“I will decide that for myself. Like I need to go to Alamethi.” Bondita noticed him observing her as he scratched his stubble. She looked away briefly.
“You are stubborn,” he declared.
“Yes, I learnt it somewhere, I wonder where.” Bondita turned to leave. “Goodnight.”
Aniruddha smiled faintly. “You are an emotional fool.”
“Pardon?” She narrowed her eyes and stopped as he was alarmed that he had been heard.
“Nothing, goodnight.” he shook his head, appearing busy with paperwork.
“You think I am a fool because I choose to stay with my family over a better job? What does that make you?” She raised her eyebrows as she turned at the threshold. Aniruddha shook his head.
“Unlike you, I don’t have people waiting for me in Kolkata.” Bondita’s heart skipped a beat as he sounded amused. “Debarghya has hope still.”
“I never told him to keep any hope.” Bondita sounded defensive.
“Why did you refuse?” His question startled Bondita. She did not expect him to demand an answer. “He seems like a nice lad.”
“He is. Doesn’t mean I should date him.” Bondita shook her head. “He thought he liked me.” She looked away, unsure of the conversation. Aniruddha stood up from his chair, straightening his Panjabi.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Aniruddha enquired, putting his arms across his chest and leaning on the table.
“Nothing. I can’t explain it to you.” Bondita shook her head.
“Try.” He insisted. Bondita eyed his stubbornness and inhaled as she stepped back into the room, taking two steps towards the desk.
“Fine, he thought he liked me, but he did not. He assumed it was love.” Bondita shrugged.
“How do you know it was not?” Aniruddha insisted. She smiled as she stopped briefly and eyed the open window and the darkness outside.
“Because when you love someone, you don’t worship the land they walk on, thinking it is perfect or they are.” She eyed his arched brows as she continued, “You choose to love people despite their flaws and shortcomings.” She watched him agree with a nod, “You call it love only when you can take their bad qualities, handle them at their worst, embrace the compromises you need to make for their sake without thinking of them as sacrifices.” She stopped as he looked a little amazed at her observations were unexpected. Bondita’s cheeks grew warm as she looked away from his gaze. “I read that somewhere.” She added quickly.
“Did you?” he sounded lost.
“He could not take my stubbornness or my opinions,” Bondita added. “He pretended to.” Aniruddha nodded, making his way from across the desk to her, facing her.
“But what if it's like the one you described?” he asked as Bondita’s heart made a funny leap. “What should one do then?” She looked up at his face briefly, trying to understand his words, read his mind, in vain. He looked rather determined to not let her go unless she answered his question. Bondita shrugged with a faint smile. Aniruddha took counted, measured breaths as he waited for her answer, his eyes searching her expression, her eyes, and her unsure, quivering lips for words perhaps his heart wanted to hear and rationale wanted to deny.
“You are either brave enough to do something about it or wise enough to know not to.” Eyes met briefly as she murmured goodnight and walked away. Aniruddha stood there, contemplating her words.
That night, Aniruddha stood by the window looking over her bedroom. He walked up to the grill and could see her by the desk, with the pamphlet in hand, reading it with the reading lights on. She had not said goodbye, but he knew that she was going only for a few days. He did not need a goodbye. No matter how much he had pushed her away, she had been adamant enough not to leave, no matter how much he brushed away everything she did for him and his family without being asked, which he thought of as her liability; she had chosen to be part of it all. A part of him could not deny that, for the first time in his life, he was glad someone did not leave when he pushed them away. Aniruddha was consumed in thought as he watched her switch the lights in her room off. Something told him that she eyed his dark room before she went to bed. He felt her stare in an unexplainable way. It was like she understood his reasons and wanted to prove him wrong. But a part of him wondered for how long it could continue, maybe till Kalindi found a groom for her, maybe till she fell in love with someone deserving of her and her attention shifted, maybe till she got a better offer and shifted to another part of the country. Either way, Aniruddha knew he would not be ready for it when it happened. A part of him felt restless at the thought. He could not deny that her presence helped to mend the two relationships that were once broken in his life, with Mini and Binoy. He accepted that it physically pained him when he acted aloof. Seeing her nonchalance at his coldness made him feel a heavy sense of guilt in his chest. A part of him felt disturbed by the bond she shared with Debarghya. How easily he made her laugh or react, unlike he could. Aniruddha was alarmed at how he was comparing his relationship with her to that of Debarghya. Aniruddha gulped as his throat felt dry. Bondita’s words about love came back to his mind. He shook his head and tried to sleep.
