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“Why will Bondita not come for Holi?” Asha asked as she inspected the colours, Abir, Pichkiri and balloons Somnath had ordered from Baro Bazaar. He shrugged. “She is scared of colours, I think.” Asha smiled, a little amused at her clueless husband. “She is not ten anymore.” He looked up at her words with a sheepish smile, “Well, I never saw her play Holi, perhaps Dadabhai knows the reason.” Asha contemplated her husband’s words. She did not share a relationship with Aniruddha frank enough for him to share things about Bondita. It would be easier for her to ask Bondita instead.
“If you wish for her to come,” Som said, like he could almost read her mind, “Perhaps you can invite her. She won’t say no to you.” Asha nodded.
“It will be good to have the whole family together. It's not been so since the wedding.” She smiled. Som agreed as he matched the list with the things. “Yes, and Baba will be coming too, he told me not to tell Jethu, but I was surprised by that.”
“Maybe because he and Dadabhai are fine after such a long time.” Asha contemplated. Som nodded absent-mindedly. She took the empty cup from her husband’s desk, rebuked him for the number of cigarette butts in the ashtray and left him there as she walked downstairs to summon Koeli.
“Can you tell Bondita to come see me once?” She walked towards the study room, “Tell her I am using the study room to do some corrections.” Koeli nodded and left.
“I don’t like it.” Bondita looked away, a little uncomfortable with the topic, as Asha stopped correcting the copies and looked up at her. Asha was sitting on the couch with the notebooks she had checked and was about to in two heaps on the coffee table as she looked up at Bondita standing by her. “You don’t like Holi?” Bondita nodded. “Som said you were scared of it as a child, but you have stayed in hostels, have you never…” Bondita shook her head. Something in Asha’s waiting stare made her feel like she was not convinced.
“I have not participated since… my parents… You see… Thamma…” Asha stood up and placed her hand on Bondita’s. “There is no reason for you not to celebrate with us, Bondita. I would like you to be there.”
“I will be there for the evening Pujo with Thamma.” She reassured, “She loves the Kirtan.”
“You don’t participate because Thamma doesn’t, right?” Bondita looked a little taken aback at Asha’s deduction. She had lived most of her life convincing everyone with a false narrative that she was still scared because she did not want to leave Thamma and celebrate. It bothered her how Thamma stayed in her room and refused to go out, yet stared out of the window longingly. But she had no idea how Boudi could see through her.
“I… how did you…” Bondita bit her lip as Asha smiled.
“I stay all day among children, and I am trained to know some child psychology. You have always been overprotective of Thamma’s happiness and comfort because you had nobody else to care for.” Asha smiled. “Until us, of course.” Bondita smiled faintly with a nod. “I don’t like it if she doesn’t…”
“But I would like you there.” Asha insisted. “I am sure Thamma would not mind if you came for a bit.” Bondita nodded reluctantly as she walked out of the house, in two minds.
Aniruddha was in his study when Bondita knocked. He could tell it was her because she was the only one who knocked thrice. “Come in.” He looked up, eyeing the watch, wondering why she had not changed out of her work clothes. The Holika Dahan was that evening.
“I wanted to speak to you about something.” She said as she peeped in, and he gestured at her to take a seat. She did not; instead, she stood by the edge of his desk as he looked up and waited for her to speak.
“Boudi invited me to the Holi party.” Bondita looked unsure. “I don’t want to upset her.”
“Then come by.” He shrugged. She eyed him briefly. He looked up at her lack of response. “Is this because you are scared of colours?” She nodded. She had no idea why she lied. “Then tell her that.” He shrugged as he got up from his seat. “Or…” He walked up from behind the desk up to her and sighed. “Tell her the truth.” Bondita looked up at his words with a frown as he continued without looking at her, with his hands in his pocket, pacing the room, “That you don’t like it because Thamma doesn’t participate.”
“You… know?” Bondita asked, trying to hide her surprise as he nodded. “Of course, otherwise if it were just the fear, I would have insisted.” He narrowed his eyes and appeared to be thinking, “Now that you mentioned it, perhaps you can convince her to join?” Bondita looked alarmed at his suggestion as she shook her head. “Thamma will scold me.”
“Then perhaps someone else can convince her?” he raised his brows as she remembered one of the unsent letters from Trilochon mentioned Dol Jatra in Alamethi.
“She will be more upset if she knows I asked him to.” She shook her head at the implication.
“You know, Bondita, all you talk about is changing the world and making it better for women. I saw you fighting for that NGO, those girls for the school and even Asha so that she can work…” She waited for him to speak as he stopped pacing and turned to face her. “But it starts from home.” Bondita opened her mouth, but he did not let her speak. “If you are too scared to talk to Thamma about this, then how do you expect women to be brave around you for themselves? To choose their happiness?” He stared at her, unsure, contemplating her face. “Unless you think widows should not…”
“Never. I think everyone deserves to be happy. It is not her fault that someone died…” Aniruddha nodded at her words with a proud smile. “Then do something about it. If you don’t, you can’t expect others to change.”
“What if it doesn’t work and she is upset with me?” She asked, unsurely.
“What if it works?” He shrugged. “And if it doesn’t, tell her it was my idea.”
Bondita gasped. “Then she will hate you.”
“I am beginning to feel she doesn’t quite like me as she used to anyway…” He shrugged as Bondita frowned at his words. “Why?” Aniruddha adjusted his glasses and avoided her question. “If it means you would agree to join the family celebration, I am willing to take the risk.” He asserted. Bondita nodded unsurely.
Trilochon set fire to the Burir Ghor, and as the crowd gathered to watch it burn, they cheered. Bondita waited patiently for him to finish meeting the party members and common people before she walked up to him.
“There is something I want to speak to you about.” She made Trilochon frown.
“You sound serious, Ma. Is anything wrong? Did Aniruddha scold you?” Bondita smiled at his words. She remembered times when she would complain to Jyatha Moshai about Aniruddha’s scolding and be satisfied with him getting scolded in return.
“I am not a kid anymore, Jyatha Moshai. It's about Thamma.” The words made Trilochon sit down on the bench in the garden path and ask Bondita to take a seat.
“Do you think Thamma deserves to be happy?” Bondita was unsure of how she would bring up the topic.
“What kind of a question is that? Everyone deserves to be happy,” he shrugged.
“Then why does she not participate in the festivals? You know it used to be one of her favourite ones.”
“I know,” Trilochon murmured. “But she is a widow and…”
“She doesn’t deserve to be happy because someone died?” Bondita looked displeased at his excuse as he shook his head.
“It is not what I meant. She is a widow, and if she participates, people will…”
“Why do you care so much about people?” Bondita snapped. “Before your own family’s happiness?” Her words made Trilochon skip a heartbeat as he looked up at Bondita’s anticipating face. She was right, all his life he had remained unhappy because he cared too much for what people thought.
“Can you convince her?” He asked, unsurely. “If you can, I will be very happy to have her participate.”
“I was hoping you could ask her.” Bondita cleared her throat.
“She will know it's not my idea. She will blame Aniruddha.” Bondita frowned at his words as he murmured, “He has not been in her good books lately.”
“Why is that?” Bondita’s question startled him.
“I don’t know. Ask him. Who knows what he does to upset people? But yes. Go and ask Kalindi about the festival. I am sure you will argue the right points and convince her better than me.” Bondita nodded reluctantly, promising that she would try. She did not want to hurt Thamma, and for her to be upset with Bondita.
“Did you play with colours when you were a kid, Thamma?” Bondita served the steaming Dal over the rice on Kalindi’s plate and then hers as they sat down on the floor of the living room for dinner. Kalindi smiled with a nod. “Of course, we did.”
“You never told me about it.” Bondita urged as Kalindi waited for her morsel to finish and spoke, “Well, my friends and I used to visit each other’s houses and their mothers used to cook special things. Someone made fish, someone made polao… sometimes I would make some snacks as well. Then we would all meet at someone’s courtyard for a feast that day.”
“What about Abir and Rong Khela?” Bondita saw her eyes twinkle as Kalindi remembered some good memories.
“My brothers used to go out early to play with friends. They returned home late, usually drenched in black and golden shimmery colours. Sometimes Baba would beat them up.” She laughed. “Your grandfather was like that. The first time he got to work, he had no holiday on Dol and Baba was reassured that he would not be doing something. He came home late with rotten eggs from somewhere and threw them at the house.”
“Then?” Bondita asked, raising her amused brows.
“He got beaten up, Baba did not care that he was all grown up and working, to be married soon. He was beaten up anyway.”
“And you?” Bondita asked without trying to sound pushy.
“I used to go to my friends’ house after cooking. But ours was better, Abir and a little colour that would come off easily. We did not force each other much. Usually, their fathers would bring colours from the city.” She smiled at the memories.
“Did the… umm… Roy Chowdhury Bari has Holi too?”
“Of course they did.” Kalindi nodded. “They used to have a kirtan like they do now, only bigger. The whole village stayed awake all night to witness the Kirtan and Jatra Pala there. Boro Malik used to sit on a chair and supervise the distribution of Bhog among villagers.”
“Boro Malik? Jyatha Moshai’s father?” Bondita interrupted.
“No, his grandfather.” Kalindi corrected.
“What about them playing with colours? Jyatha Moshai said they used to have guests over.” Kalindi eyed Bondita, a little aware of her words.
“What else did he tell you?” She enquired. Bondita shrugged, “That their premises were bigger than this, and people from the village used to come.”
“Yes, the upper-class people used to go.” Kalindi nodded. She resumed eating as Bondita eyed her. She suddenly sounded closed off. Bondita finished the meal in silence.
Kalindi was thirteen the year Trilochon insisted she visit the Jomidar Bari for Dol Jatra. She was sceptical about it because she had heard stories from her father, who had to report for duty every year, that people from affluent families in Kolkata used to be guests there. Often, foreigners would also come by. They were interested in the culture and diversity of India. She could not picture herself there.
“What will I do there? Baba will be working.” She refused as she eyed him shuffling his marbles out of a box.
“But I will be there.” Trilochon had insisted. She eyed him unsurely as she said, “Yes, but busy with your friends.” She shrugged as they sat on the spiral staircase behind the house that was once used to go up to the roof.
“You are my friend too.” He had insisted. Kalindi could not refuse him, but she did not want to go.
“I… have an invitation over at my friend’s place.” She could read the disappointment on his face “Oh.” He had not insisted anymore.
“I will come by for the Kirtan and Jatra Pala.” She tried to reassure him.
“Yes, so will the entire village.” He shrugged. “But I wanted you to see the festivities in the morning.”
“Why?” Kalindi narrowed her brows.
“Well, your brothers are in the city, your father is working too, so I thought you would be alone in the festivities.” He insisted. “I did not want that.” Kalindi smiled faintly at his caring choice of words. She had been alone for a long time, yet her father or her brothers never noticed.
“Well, I will have a busy morning. I will visit the temple, then cook lunch for Baba, then visit my friends. By evening, we have to wash off the colours and go to the Kirtan or else all the good seats will be gone.” She tried to sound cheerful, but he did not look convinced.
Kalindi had just finished cooking, humming a tune to herself as she wiped her forehead in the anchol of the faded saree that once belonged to her mother. She was about to hurry inside to find a wearable saree to change into to go to her neighbour’s place when she heard a cycle ringing by their courtyard. Alarmed, she stepped out, and her eyes widened to find Trilochon there, smiling at her. He wore a white Dhuti Panjabi, unlike his usual pant shirt, and his cheeks were smeared with pink Abir. A little of that was sprinkled on his Punjabi as well. Kalindi was suddenly aware of him being spotted as she eyed the empty courtyard of the neighbour, and as soon as he approached her, she pulled him by his hand into the hut. Trilochon was surprised at first, unable to comprehend her look of shock and anger as she asked, “What are you doing here, Trilochon Babu?”
“ I thought you would be happy to know…” He took out some Abir from his pocket, “I came to play colours with you.” Kalindi looked wide-eyed at him as he took some Pink Abir out of the packet and applied it to her cheek as she stepped back. His glance at her flushed cheeks did not miss her observation as she inhaled and asked him to leave. He could not quite understand what was wrong; she had been different lately. More aware of him than before.
“I just wanted you to be happy and…” He stammered.
“I am perfectly happy, and I don’t want to see you in my hut again.” Kalindi snapped. Trilochon nodded, unsure of what had offended her, his unannounced visit or his gesture. “Fine.” His jaws tightened as he turned to leave. No matter how calm he was, he was the eldest son of the Jomidar Bari, and nobody ordered him in that tone. Kalindi looked alarmed as he was at the threshold, and she stopped him. “Wait.” He stopped, unsurely as she walked up to him, taking some colour from his hand, and surprised him by touching his feet with it. Trilochon stepped back, a little awkward at her gesture. He was older than her, but only by a year and a few months.“What are you…”
“You are our Malik, your stature is bigger than everyone else in the village, everyone touches your feet.” She smiled as he looked disappointed at her.
“Did I ever make you feel that way, Kalindi?” Her smile faded at his words.
“Wha…”
“Did I ever make you feel inferior?” He looked upset.
“I… did not mean…” Kalindi shook her head as he stormed out and cycled away.
It took Kalindi two days of treating him with her cooking his favourite dishes to convince him. She knew on that day that something had changed between them, probably for the worse. She had found herself smiling, her cheeks flushing warm as she tried to rub off the colour from her cheeks before visiting her friends for Holi. She was more aware of his stares of admiration, and it constantly reminded her of her status, unlike before. It forced her to draw herself away from his life, not meet him every day and share fewer secrets and problems from home, hoping the feeling would go away. It was irrational. It was not worth the risk. But Trilochon would not understand, would he? In his privileged and veiled stubbornness, the more she drew away, the harder he tried to be a good friend. Until that fateful day at the pond changed their lives.
“Did playing with colours make you happy, Thamma?” Kalindi jolted from her thoughts at Bondita’s words as she smiled at her granddaughter. “ Yes… of course…”
“I don’t remember the last time I played with colours…” Bondita wondered aloud.
“Probably while your father was there? I remember he used to bring colours for all three daughters. Unlike your Kaka.” Kalindi spoke as she folded the washed sarees that were dumped on the bed. Bondita paced Thamma’s room as she nodded, “Yes, I remember him.” Kalindi’s hand stopped at the saree as she looked up and asked, “You were not scared of colours as an infant, what happened afterwards?” Bondita smiled faintly at her words. Kalindi turned to observe her fiddling with the things on the shelf as she said, “Just because they are not there, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to find happiness in what they liked. They would want you to live your life.” Bondita looked up at Kalindi’s words.
“Then does it not apply to you?” She asked. Kalindi looked a little taken aback as she lowered her gaze. “My case is different.”
“How?” Bondita frowned. “You also stopped doing everything you loved, because you lost someone.”
“In my case, the rules are dictated by society, and I follow them.” Kalindi sounded firm. “Like many others like me.”
“Society has not lived your life since eighteen, sacrificing every little thing in life like that.” Bondita sounded stern, “You have. It’s your choice…”
“You sound like Aniruddha Babu. Did he fill your head with this nonsense?” Kalindi said in a harsh tone. Bondita’s jaws tightened.
“No, he did not.” She shook her head. “Even if he had, it was not wrong.”
“It is, because there is a reason certain rules exist. It is for our betterment, and we should respect them. If we all start doing whatever we want, society will crumble.” Kalindi tried to reason as Bondita shook her head.
“And what about happiness, Thamma? Do you not deserve to be happy, too? You told me they are not alive, I am, and I should choose my happiness. Why don’t you?”
“I am happy, my child.” Kalindi stepped towards her and smiled forcibly as Bondita looked unconvinced. “You are my happiness, my pride, my life, everything.”
“Then why do you not listen to me? Playing Holi would not make you any less of a widow or your life less miserable.”
“Bondita!” Kalindi scolded as she tried to control her anger and stepped up to her. “Enough. Don’t speak of things you don’t understand.” Bondita was suddenly teary at her scolding, and Kalindi was surprised at her tears.
“You don’t understand me, why should I understand you?” She sobbed, “Do you have any idea…” Bondita could not finish her words as she ran to her room, closed the door, and Kalindi could hear her sobbing. As Kalindi sat down on her bed, confused by the reaction, she wondered why Bondita was suddenly adamant about her breaking an age-old tradition. She did not, indeed, understand her grandchild.
Kalindi expected Bondita to be locked in her room the entire morning, with the fear of being attacked by Batuk with colours. She had always stayed away from Holi, saying she was scared of colours. But she was twenty-five now, and the fear of colours was not rational anymore. Kalindi sat through her morning prayers, unmindfully playing the conversation in her mind time and again. Why was it so important for Bondita that she agreed to her words? Even if she did, going out to the lawn, where the politicians, affluent, rich friends of the family, their wives and children came by as guests, to play with colours at her age, would be outrageous. If Bondita was not scared, did she stay away from the festival because she did and not because she missed her parents? A sense of guilt hit Kalindi more so because she had not noticed her granddaughter’s reasons before. The knock on the door made her realise she had been standing with the flower offerings in her palm for a long time. She placed the flowers at the feet of the idols and folded her hands quickly before she approached the door, and the knock resonated again. She opened the door, anticipating that Batuk had come looking for his friend, when she was surprised to see Trilochon standing at her threshold. A sudden feeling of Deja Vu crept in as she stared over his shoulder at the people who were arranging seats and tables on the lawn for the guests to arrive. Her questioning eyes made Trilochon clear his throat.
“Umm… Bondita?” He asked, unsurely.
“She is still sleeping. Do you want me to call her?” She asked as he shook his head, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh…” Kalindi narrowed her brows, “I would have come by to have tea, could it not wait?” She let him inside as he eyed the couch and her. “Is something wrong?” Kalindi saw that he was reluctant to sit down.
“You tell me?” He asked, “Bondita seemed teary on the telephone yesterday.” Kalindi gasped involuntarily.
“Had she complained to you?” She shrugged. “Unbelievable. She was just being irrational.”
“Why?” Trilochon’s words made her frown some more as she pulled the green-bordered white saree closer to her body.
“Do you not know why, or did she just tell you about my scolding and not her audacity?” Kalindi asked as she shook her head. “Aschorjo.”
“Maybe I don’t think of her request as audacity.” Trilochon cleared his throat and looked away briefly as Kalindi stared at him in shock. He stared back at her face, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “In fact, you being offended is what kept me from suggesting it for so long. It was not my place.”
“No, it is not.” Kalindi’s jaws tightened as she asserted. “Neither is it hers.” She turned, hoping he would leave and she could resume her prayers. “I will reconcile with her; it's also not your place.”
“It is my place because I can’t see my daughter unhappy because of you.” Kalindi turned back to face him at his choice of words.
“Excuse me?” She frowned.
“If you know so much, you would know she had been keeping herself away from the celebration for so long because of you. Because she did not want you to be left out. Is her happiness less important to you than these traditions?” He stopped at Kalindi’s sarcastic smile.
“Bah, Trilochon Babu. Am I hearing this right?” She shook her head. “You are talking of breaking traditions, you?”
“Yes, because with age I realise none of it matters more than my children’s happiness.”
“So, you are fine with someone my age, breaking rules and frolicking among your guests?” She sounded almost amused as Trilochon narrowed his brows.
“Nobody expected that from you. All we are saying is…” Kalindi let out a gasp.
“We? Now it is “we”? Who else is involved in this stupid plan? Aniruddha Babu?”
“We, your granddaughter and I, care for your respect in society, even if you think otherwise,” Trilochon asserted. Kalindi exhaled as if she were exhausted. “You can do something for her happiness, can’t you? Bouma invited her to the party, and you know how much Bondita likes festivities.”
“What do you expect of me then?” Kalindi asked in a submissive tone that surprised Trilochon.
“Start somewhere that makes her happy and you comfortable.” He suggested. “You only reminded me that the rigidity of traditions hurts people. Remember?” Kalindi nodded a little absent-mindedly as she said, “Fine, I will allow her or anyone who comes by to take my blessings and put Abir on my feet, nothing more.” Trilochon smiled victoriously at her words. “Great, then send her over to the house when she wakes up?” He made her nod. Kalindi expected him to leave, but Trilochon appeared like he wanted to say something more.
“What is it, now?” Kalindi asked with raised brows as he cleared his throat.
“You said the children can take your blessings with the Abir.” He made her nod. “What about people older than you?”
“Who is…” Kalindi stopped as he took out a packet of Abir from the pocket of his Panjabi. Kalindi stepped back almost in a reflex so that the coloured powder of Abir didn't touch her white saree, as she looked a little perplexed at him. Trilochon smiled faintly as he poured some Abir on his palm. “You can perhaps start with a friend?” He expected her to say he was not her friend, but she did not. She appeared amused, a faint smile reflecting in her twinkling eyes and wrinkles.
“What? Did I offend you? I asked first.” Trilochon said in a reflex, “I have learnt.”
“I often wondered when people often said men age but don’t mature, as to what they mean by it.” Her words made him brood.
“What do you mean by that? I am…”
“Still the same, stubborn.” She shook her head. “Bondita sounds like you, and she is less than half your age. It worries me.”
“Are you going to lecture me or…” Trilochon raised his palm full of Abir to her eye level as she took a pinch in between her index finger and thumb and placed a small tilak on his forehead. “Subho Dol Jatra,” she made him nod with a smile as he proceeded to do the same with a teep on her forehead. “Thank you, Kalindi.”
“I am doing this for Bondita’s happiness.” She asserted as she stepped back, brushing the little Abir in her fingertips away. She made a mental note to wipe away the little from her forehead once he left. Trilochon smiled. “I know.” He nodded. “Thank you for keeping her heart.” He turned and walked away as Kalindi closed the door and proceeded to her room to check herself in the hanging mirror. Her hand stopped before she wiped her forehead as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. A teardrop fell on her cheek as she wiped it off with her hand, fearing someone would see her in a moment of weakness. She stared at the idol of the god and folded her hands, unable to wipe the colour from her forehead. For the first time in a long time, Kalindi appreciated Trilochon’s efforts to mend their relationship for Bondita’s sake.
Bondita shut the door to her room noiselessly as she sat down on the floor with an overwhelming smile on her face. She wiped the tears that had fallen on her cheek and sighed. She had creaked open her door slightly when someone knocked early in the morning, and she did not want to step out unless summoned. But what she did not expect to witness was her Thamma finally agreeing to break her shackles, that too after Jyatha Moshai convinced her. The longing in their voices when they referred to the past, the comfort in their body language, always made Bondita wonder about the what-ifs. She had decided to let things be after the huge fight that occurred between them about the keys, knowing that stirring up old hurts could potentially ruin whatever little friendship they had created by mending the bridges on their own. Neither Trilochon nor Kalindi would like it if she interfered, or worse, if they knew that she knew. But seeing them made Bondita wonder with a strange sense of longing about the similarities Kalindi’s feelings probably had to hers, despite their very different lives, times and situations. Bondita was truly happy when Kalindi asked her to apply Abir on her feet and put some on her cheeks, lovingly hugging her. They shared happy tears, apologising to each other, before Batuk came by, asking Thamma whether he could seek her blessings. He was accompanied by Asha, who insisted she come by the house, which she politely refused, asking Bondita to go with them.
“What are you smiling at?” Bondita was a little startled by Aniruddha’s voice behind her as she stood on the roof, with her wet hair and a hint of pink colour on her cheek despite having a bath.
“I…” She shook her head. “Boudi said I can put the clothes up to dry here. So I…” She stopped as he glanced at her. She narrowed her eyes a little at his spotless white Panjabi over a blue pair of jeans and wondered aloud, “Where have you been?”
“To pick Baba from the airport, remember?” He shrugged, “Besides, I don’t want to be present with their political guests around.”
“He is home?” Bondita smiled as he shook his head, “I put him up in a hotel in Kolkata, he said he would surprise Jethu in the evening. When he comes for the Kirtan.” Bondita nodded, satisfied.
“You did not say.” He asked, folding his hands to his chest. “Why were you smiling by yourself?” She looked a little awkward as he waited and said, “ I could not convince Thamma.” He frowned slightly at her statement, “And you are happy because?”
“Jyatha Moshai did. I don’t know how, but… after seeing them… it felt like…” Bondita looked up at Aniruddha’s keen eyes, unable to put her overwhelming happiness into words.
“It felt like?” He waited as she formed the sentence.
“It felt like they had their closure, in their little way.” He looked unsure at her words, “You were right and I was wrong when I said it was in the past. It never was. It felt like what goes around, perhaps comes around… You know?”
“Like life gave them a second chance?” He asked, raising his brows suggestively as she nodded, “It is rare, isn’t it?” He agreed with a faint smile, observing her still confused face. “Yes, it is, and if life gives you second chances, one should not hesitate to take them.” Aniruddha made Bondita look up at him, a little unsure and surprised. It felt as though the words he uttered for them were directed at her. Bondita looked away, awkwardly.
“I… I can’t explain…” She shrugged. “I am just so happy she agreed to be part of the festival.” She tried to steer the conversation to more comfortable grounds.
“Me too.” He nodded in agreement. “Perhaps now you will agree to share the letters with her?” He gently suggested, but she shook her head immediately.
“It is not our place to. It really is not. Jyatha Moshai would have mentioned his letters to her in all these years if he wanted to.” Aniruddha contemplated her words.
“Perhaps they don’t want to bring up old wounds.” He said almost unsurely.
“Then neither should we.” She reminded him.
“Seems like you had fun.” He gestured at the colours that refused to go from her cheek despite her attempt to remove them by taking a long bath. “Wait till you see Batuk.” Bondita walked past him, down the stairs and stopped at the landing. Aniruddha followed her downstairs and stopped two steps above her as she turned and asked, “What were you doing there?”
“Huh?” He asked as she repeated her question, adding, “On the roof.”
“I…” He looked a little awkward admitting, “Saw you there from the porch and wondered if you were fine.” She nodded and was about to say something when Batuk appeared out of nowhere and flung two handfuls of Abir at Aniruddha.
“Dadabhai, Happy Holi.” Aniruddha was startled by the attack from behind, over his head and clothing as he brushed them away, and Bondita stepped back as some of it fell on her.
“Batuk!” They shouted at him in unison as Batuk laughed and touched Aniruddha’s feet in a hurry before he could scold him.
“I just took a bath!” Bondita exclaimed. “You put Abir in my hair again!”
“Take another one,” Batuk smirked with a shrug and walked downstairs as Bondita followed by pumping her fist. “You see what I…”
“Bondita,” Aniruddha called her back softly, as she decreased her pace, allowing Batuk to run out of her eyesight as she turned to face him with questioning eyes.
“Since you are taking a bath anyway…” Aniruddha picked up the half-thrown packet of abir that Batuk had abandoned on the steps during his escape as Bondita looked a little wide-eyed.
“No.” She protested softly as he poured its remaining contents over her head. “Happy Holi.” Aniruddha looked amused as she protested. “My eyes, my eyes. It's gotten into my eyes.”
“Let me see.” Aniruddha walked down to the step above her and held her face up by the chin using his right hand. Bondita looked a little intimidated by the proximity and his gesture, though she could sense that Aniruddha was too concerned with her potentially injured eyes to notice her being aware of him. He blew gently at her eyes, making her flutter as he scolded, “Hold still, let me see.”
“I am fine.” She stepped down as he let go of her chin, suddenly aware of her discomfort. She tried to brush the Abir off and stood alarmed, “Look at the floor, Koeli Didi will be so unhappy.” She blinked uneasily. “I need to go take a bath again before helping Boudi. I promised her. So many people will have lunch and… Koeli Didi must be busy, perhaps Bihari…”
“Bondita.” Aniruddha made her stop as she reached the bottom of the staircase and looked up at him, standing on the landing, leaning on the railing, wearing an amused smile on his face. “Stop blabbering.” He made her heart flutter as she blushed, turning her face away from his amused glance as she ran out of the house towards the lawn.
