Bondita opened her door in the usual hours of the morning and found Thamma and Jyatha Moshai on the couch in their living room, sipping tea. She had half sat on her bed, leaning against the pillow all night, imagining her plight when she faced Aniruddha in the morning. What if he did not think of it as much as she thought of his actions? What if that was his uncomfortable way of comforting her because she was upset? But what about his eyes, his gestures? Had she misread all of it? Bondita blushed to herself the moment she remembered how his eyes followed her around for the past two days.
Bondita was hurrying through her daily chores, eyeing the clock, for she would be late for work and overheard Trilochon lament about things not changing since Binoy left. He thought that things were getting better at home, but as soon as Aniruddha had left for Sunderban, Binoy informed him that he had changed the attorney in charge of his case. Bondita frowned slightly as her hand stopped at wearing the watch. Had she failed in her attempt? She realised that for the days they were away, Aniruddha never mentioned his father or the case anymore. Bondita arrived at the office late and learnt that Aniruddha was in Kolkata. She had a few files she needed him to sign, so she decided to take them home with the mental note of confronting Aniruddha about Binoy. If he was not comfortable discussing whatever transpired the day before and was avoiding her, as she suspected, she would act like nothing had happened and demand to know his stance with Binoy like she normally would. Bondita did not want any awkwardness between them at any cost. She had just built the bridges with him again.
Aniruddha could not take his mind off Bondita’s thoughts even when he was busy with work. To add to his misery, everything in Kolkata, like the street-side Chow Mein, the walk through the Old Court House Street, and visiting his firm too, reminded him of her. The last time they were in Kolkata, and he had taken her to his firm’s branch in Kolkata, she had suggested a better wallpaper colour and a change of the paintings that hung on his chamber wall. The moment he entered the chamber and his eyes fell on the old painting, he remembered her words and ordered the peon to change it. He sat on his chair, well into the evening, with paperwork, in between meetings, contemplating the fact that he had to meet her once he was home and face some questions. In his head, Aniruddha rehearsed his answers. Even the things he wanted to tell her, if she did not ask. He knew she was from a different generation altogether, and perhaps holding hands meant nothing to them, but he was old school. He wanted her to know how much time he had spent trying to resist the idea of them, the idea of falling for her, how much he had evaluated the pros and cons before arriving at Sunderban. He wanted to let her know everything that he felt while he waited for her, everything he felt when she was away, every thought that went behind his coldness towards her and that she took away his sleep but gave him a peace nobody else could. He wanted to let Bondita know that this was not a whimsical attempt for him to do away with his loneliness, but he would be perfectly fine if she did not feel as deeply. If she wanted someone better, he would understand, and she was not obligated to reciprocate his feelings. He wanted to reassure her that nothing had changed between them if she did not feel the same way, neither professionally nor personally. Aniruddha’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden idea of not having her in his life again, or worse, seeing her with someone else. He shook his head, turning to the paperwork as he immediately remembered her holding his hand, the stares, the blushing and her demeanour, the reason he suspected she left Chandannagor in the first place. Was he that wrong in interpreting Bondita? He never was. By late evening, he was sure that he was ready to go home and face her. He was tired of trying to act cold and aloof. He was tired of trying to push her away because of his insecurities. He did not want to hurt her anymore. The consequences of his acceptance of the absurdity and of the possibility that there was a future in store which he dreamt of in the deepest corner of his denying heart could be dealt with when the time came. What was important was that she trusted him, and he would not let her down again.
“We are so glad you helped us.” Bondita smiled gratefully, receiving the packet of sweets the NGO manager gave her, as Trilochon smiled. “I was just doing my job, and I am glad the children still have the school.” The man nodded. “Bhowmick Babu had gifted us the land without informing his daughter, and we had no idea. That caused more misunderstanding.” The moment the man mentioned Saudamini, it occurred to Bondita that although Mini Didi was still staying and often visiting Thamma, she had not talked to Bondita since that day. Was it possible that she was upset with Bondita? Bondita made a mental note to talk to Mini before she leaves in two days. Bondita waited for the man to share pleasantries with Trilochon before he left, and she eyed the staircase, contemplating.
“Are you looking for Dadabhai?” Asha’s voice from behind startled her as Bondita tried to keep a straight face and nodded. “There were some papers that needed signing.”
Asha eyed the clock hands that said eight. “I think he is going to return home late.”
“Oh no.” Bondita frowned slightly. “These were urgent.”
“I can give them to him,” Asha suggested as Bondita shook her head. “No, Boudi, I need to tell him what to check and where to sign.”
“Oh, then do one thing. He will be back by eleven or so… why don’t you come by then? I will let you know he is here.” Bondita looked slightly awkward at the suggestion. Was meeting him so late in the house so soon, a good idea? But Bondita needed the papers the next day. If he was avoiding her, she also needed answers. She agreed.
Saudamini stared at the space that used to be their living room. The furniture was dismantled by the movers and packers she had hired with the help of Trilochon, and everything she had in the house was packed in brown cartons of various sizes. The tube lights were taken down, and a small yellow bulb lit up the room as she sat down on one of the broken chairs that would be sold, and sighed. Her entire childhood, her mother’s memories, her Thakuma and Baba’s memories, all were in that house. She was teary-eyed, but she knew that this needed to be done. Neither she nor her husband could come by now and then and maintain such a big house. They would not even come here on vacation. There was no practical use of the house at all. Yet, emotions got the better of her. She wiped her tears on the edge of the anchol and stood up, contemplating how to thank Aniruddha and Bondita before she left. Bondita walked up to her main door to find it unlocked. She narrowed her brows a little, unsurely as she pushed the two doors, and the door on the left opened slightly with a creaking sound, and she could not see inside as it was dark. Light was faintly falling on the corridor from what used to be the living room. Bondita knew that her son was with Thamma, who was making Naru for him. Ever since she heard that the child was deprived of grandparents on both sides, she tried to make up for it as much as she could in this little time. Bondita tiptoed inside and, unsurely, called Saudamini and found no response. All she could hear was the old ceiling fan whirling in the living room, making noises occasionally. She walked up to it and half opened the door to find Saudamini on the discarded chair, in a sleeveless black blouse and a white cotton saree with maroon borders, wiping her tears in a corner of the saree as she sniffed. Bondita’s face reflected worry as she walked in, enquiring what had happened. Saudamini was startled at first by the sudden intrusion and then overwhelmed by Bondita’s worry. She realised that the only people who knew her before she was Mrs Chatterjee and when she had dreams and ambitions quite different from those she had now, were all here, in Chandannagar. The only tie she had with them through that house was now gone, and she would perhaps never see them again.
All of Bondita’s worries were set to rest by Saudamini’s warm hug. “I am going to miss you so very much.” Saudamini sniffed. Bondita reassured her that if she wanted to visit Chandannagar, she always had Thammar Bari to come home to. Although Saudamini knew her offer to be genuine but deep inside she knew she was never going to come back to her hometown again.
“When is your train?” Bondita enquired. Saudamini smiled faintly. “This weekend. Tupai’s Baba insists we be home for Dol Jatra.” Saudamini stared at Bondita, nodding and smiling. “Do you remember Dol Purnima?”
Bondita was fourteen when she finally wanted to participate in the festival of colours. The colours and the chasing around, the water balloons and Pichkari did not scare her anymore. Since she was a kid, she had never been part of this festival. Her uncle could never afford it, her Thamma was forbidden to play with colours, and the sight of people chasing each other with Bandure Rong scared her. People’s faces remained pitch black or silver well over a week after Holi. Women in the village did go to the Radha Krishna Mandir for the Purnima Pujo, but Bondita was never that lucky to accompany anyone. Dol Purnima at Chandannagar was different. There was an array of sweets and Thandai kept for the guests, and many of Jyatha Moshai’s peers and colleagues came to the house. They never chased each other with Bandure Rong. The year Aniruddha brought herbal colours from the market in Kolkata, everyone hated it. The colour did not sit well on the skin, and the shades of pastel were matte compared to the vibrant yellow, magenta or green available in the local market. Aniruddha tried in vain to educate his family on the benefits of using Herbal colours instead of the local ones. Only Mini Didi seemed convinced. However, neither Batuk nor Somnath could convince little Bondita to step out of her house to play in the lawn. When they asked Aniruddha to force her, he did not. Instead, he made Batuk realise that she probably felt sad as her Thamma did not participate. But the year Bondita turned fifteen, she had heard the stories of Holi from Saudamini. How Krishna coloured Radha with his love. The festival found new meaning for her teenage heart. That morning, she had tiptoed into the study room to find Aniruddha busy. He had not looked up at her, expecting her to be present there with her maths books and copies. Instead, Bondita extended her hand, and he stared at the packet of Abir. An important paperwork was scattered around the tabletop top and Aniruddha panicked that the open pack of Abir under the whirling fan would ruin his work. In a reflex, he shouted at a startled Bondita, who ran back home, abandoning the Abir on the way to the lawn. Nobody saw her the entire day. She lied to Thamma that she felt feverish and had to study for her finals, and stayed in her room all day. All she wanted was for him to play Holi with her. He was not supposed to shout at her on a festive occasion. She had grown up enough to be disappointed in silence, without her usual tears and puffing of her cheeks. That was perhaps why he did not even notice she was upset when she accompanied Thamma to the Thakur Dalan for the Kirtan in the evening. He barely even looked at her.
“This year, Dol Purnima will be huge because Dada is hosting his first after joining the party.” Bondita smiled at Saudamini, “You could tell Jamai Babu to come here and witness the Kirtan.” Saudamini shook her head and explained how the festival was celebrated with much pomp and grandeur even at her in-laws' place.
Bondita left Saudamini’s place with a strange feeling of loss. She had memories in the house, good and bad, in each room of it. Soon, a promoter would start demolishing the old house and making a residential apartment in its place. The street would never look the same again. She wondered if they would destroy the plants in the garden, too. The guava tree, the bougainvillaea scattered by the main entrance in pink paper, and the Kadam tree, which provided shade to the road. She always wanted a bougainvillaea like that, but Thamma said she was too impatient to be gardening, as it required a lot of time and effort. Perhaps she could tell Jyatha Moshai or Bihari Babu to get a tree for their portico. It would look beautiful and add to the aesthetics of the house. Bondita was suddenly aware of herself deciding on the Roy Chowdhury house. She was perhaps getting ahead of herself.
Bondita had just taken a bath to relax after a tiring day, draped Thamma’s saree carelessly around herself to offer her prayer, because Kalindi complained of a backache. Bondita insisted she rested, reassuring her that she would do the evening prayers exactly as Kalindi wanted. She was late, so when she finished dinner, it was almost ten. She opened her window to see the light in his room lit, the shadow of the whirling fan could be seen on the wall opposite the window, and she wondered if she could go and ask for the sign from Aniruddha or wait for the morning. She checked her schedule. She needed to reach the office early, and that meant bothering him before she left. Her phone rang, almost jolting her, and it was Asha.
“Dadabhai has asked you to come by when I asked him.” Bondita picked up the file and adjusted her drape before making her way to the Roy Chowdhury house.
Aniruddha was in his pyjamas and a loose shirt, relaxing after a bath, with a book, half lying on his bed. His bedroom door was half closed so that he could hear Bihari call out to him for dinner when it was ready. Since he came home late most nights, on the nights he did come relatively early, Trilochon waited for him to have dinner together. Asha was in the kitchen helping Bihari set the table while Somnath was in the living room, talking on the phone, when Bondita entered the house.
“He is upstairs. Do you want to stay for dinner?” Asha smiled at her as she shook her head, mentioning that Thamma was unwell, and walked up the stairs. At the threshold of his door, Bondita was in two minds. She eyed the door to Trilochon’s room closed, the sound of faint music and Slokas coming from the other side. He was playing his favourite records again. The entire first floor was dark, and the light from his room fell on the corridor outside from the half-opened door. She walked up to it, file in hand and pushed the door slightly. He sat up on the bed as he heard the door creak open. Aniruddha watched her enter in an informally draped saree, Kalindi often wore at home, her wet hair pushed to one side over her anchol, and her Kohl smudged after a tiring day. She noticed his gaze on her as he put the book down and looked up at her questioningly.
“I…” She cleared her throat. “You need to sign this. I need it tomorrow.” She pushed the open file and pen towards him as he removed the pillow he was leaning on and eyed her, a little amused. “So now you just come in without knocking?” She narrowed her brows at his question. “The door was open and…” She stammered, unsurely. He leaned a little to check the empty corridor outside. “So you wouldn’t knock?”
“Boudi…” Bondita bit her lower lip slightly, unsurely as she spoke, “said I could…” She pushed the file onto the bed. “Sign it.” Her mind was racing with how to bring up Binoy without upsetting his mood. He held the pillow close on his lap, placed his hand on his chin and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Are you upset?” She shook her head at his question. “Then why do you look…”
“I went to see Mini Didi.” She wet her dry lips with her tongue, eyeing him briefly as he nodded. “She will leave before Dol, I said, my goodbye.”
“And you are upset she is going away?” He tried to understand as she shook her head. “The house has been there ever since I came here. Things will not be the same.” She asserted as though the thought of change stirred her.
“Things aren’t the same since you left, things have not been the same since you came back, have they?” Bondita could sense Aniruddha’s observant glance as he stared at her even when she did not look up at him and appeared to be fiddling with the corner of the anchol between her fingers. Her heart thumped a little in her chest, and she felt her throat was dry. “I… don’t know…” She murmured unsurely. The air of awkwardness in the room that engulfed her was getting thicker as his eyes did not leave her.
“What else brought you here?” His question made Bondita skip a heartbeat. Not only was she red, but her cheeks grew warm as she looked flabbergasted. “Wh… what?” She stammered. “What… Do you mean?” She looked up at him as he raised his eyebrows, straightening himself.
“Have you been meaning to say something?” He raised his brows as she looked away deliberately towards the open window and fluttering curtains.
“I… no… just the sign and…” Bondita looked unsure. Aniruddha seemed displeased.
“Since when do you lie to me on my face?” He scolded. There was something deeply familiar and comforting for her in his tone as Bondita breathed in and turned to face him. He had stood up from his bed and waited for her to speak.
“Then promise me that you will hear me out calmly and…” She stopped at his impatient stare and cleared her throat.
“Why did your father change lawyers?” She asked, making him frown. He expected to talk, for her to have questions, but not about this.
“How am I supposed to know that?” He shrugged. “I was where you were.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean … is there anything…”
“To blame me?” He shook his head. “Bondita!” He looked disappointed at her.
“I didn’t mean…” Bondita shook her head. “Let me rephrase that.”
“Let me ask you something. Why do you have a pathological need to be right?” Aniruddha folded his arms across his chest and eyed her as Bondita arched her brows. “ It's more about you succeeding in mending things than us. Tai na?” Bondita tightened her jaws.
“Moteo Na.” She protested strongly. “Fine, don’t tell me. I am not in the mood to argue with you. You are right, it's not my business. I am sorry.” She was about to leave when he blocked her way. “Now, when did I say that? You have been hearing things that have not been said lately. I just asked…”
“My concern was simple: have you or have you not reconciled?” Bondita interrupted him firmly.
“You could just ask that, rather than just blaming me for things.” He shrugged.
“I did not… I asked…” She shook her head as he frowned. “What did you do to make him change lawyers?”
“See, you assume I did something. Why are you fighting about that?” His words made her inhale. “Because it is my responsibility.”
She put her arms on either side of her waist, intimidating Aniruddha to step back as she continued while he observed her.
“I am the one who tells him your son would help you; your son is an expert in this case. I reassured him of that, and there’s no value in my words? I went to Jyatha Moshai and reassured him not to worry; his nephew would not mess up a professional obligation even when he had differences of opinion. I tell Thamma that I am not risking anything by getting in the middle of this, even when she insists I am, and then they tell me he doesn’t want your help. They look at me as though I failed, and let me tell you something, Moshai, Bondita never fails. She will not…” She narrowed her eyes, raising her index finger as he shrugged.
“That’s your problem, not mine.” He looked least bothered as Bondita’s mouth remained open. “What …” She shook her head. “There is no helping you, is there? Sign this, and I will leave.” She looked miffed. “And I will never again, never ever again, try to fix things. I am sorry I did.” Aniruddha looked almost amused at her voice. She sounded like she used to when Batuk joked that Obhiman was her Daak Naam.
“Listen…” He said sincerely in a low voice. “I wanted to speak to you…”
“I don’t. I am angry. Just sign this, and I will be on my way.” She deliberately looked away, pressing her lips together.
“What do I get if I sign it?” He asked as he stepped up towards her, and Bondita stepped back, unsurely. “Umm… a case off your desk?” She said suggestively, frowning at him. He shrugged. “I would get that anyway. What do I get now?” His amused stare made Bondita fluster as she tried to dodge him and leave, murmuring, “You know what, keep it. I will come back later.”
He held her back by her hand, alarming her as she jolted and turned to face him. “I will sign the paper if you do something for me in return…”
“What…” Bondita was suddenly aware of their proximity, his hand on her wrist and the open door. “I …”
“It’s very simple. You do it, and I'll sign this.” He shrugged, making her look unsure as he continued. “Take my name.” He had a smile on the edge of his lips as she looked confused. “I don’t … understand…” She raised her eyebrows, stammering through her words.
“You heard me, take my name. It's simple, really.” He shrugged.
“Have you gone mad?” She almost looked amused as she suppressed it, trying to stay angry with him. “What kind of childishness is this? I take your name all the time.”
“Do you? Then why do you sound strange when you do?” He pulled her closer by her hand as she forgot to resist, making her eyes widen as his hand travelled to tuck a wet lock of hair behind her earlobe, as if it was disrupting his view. Bondita shuddered, alarmed as she tried in vain to free herself from his grip and glanced over her shoulder suggestively at the half-open door. “You were speaking to me for so long and about me for a longer time, yet I never heard you utter my name.” Bondita narrowed her eyes at him, a little intimidated by the fact that he noticed that after so many years. “So?” She tried to free her hand in vain.
“So, you will be free as soon as you do it,” he reassured nonchalantly. Bondita breathed in. “Mr. Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury, let me go.” he shook his head as she looked embarrassed. “Not like that.” He suddenly let go of her hand as she stood there flabbergasted, and he leaned in. Aniruddha commanded, “Take it like you take everyone else’s, informally.”
“You are older than me.” She protested feebly, unable to look him in his eyes in her coyness. “I never take your name.” He looked more amused as if he expected her to say that, and she was falling into an invisible trap he had set for her.
“Is that the reason why?” He sounded amused. “Or… Is there something else?” Bondita felt her throat was dry as she gulped. “Wha… What are you saying? What’s wrong with you? Sign the papers.” She tried to step back as he came closer, and her eyes hovered on his unbuttoned shirt. She forced herself to look away, intimidated by the familiar smell of his aftershave, but he could feel her cheeks turn warm. He pressed his lips together in amusement as she stared at him sternly. “What do you want?” Her voice was softer.
He leaned in, making her lean back, unsurely as he reached for her ears and whispered, “Say my name, the way you would say it had I not been older. The way I want you to say it, right now. You know that, don’t you?” His breath softened against her skin as her heart raced. “I… umm… Aa…Aa…” He urged her to go on by nodding. Bondita felt weak in her knees, like her nerves were soothed by his hand now holding hers more gently. “Go on. If you want me to let you go.” She shook her head, lowering her gaze as her lips quivered. Aniruddha’s eyes were transfixed on them as he smiled faintly at her uneasiness. “You know me, Bondita. I am not letting you leave unless…”
“Ani…ruddha.” She said it as quickly as she could to avoid awkwardness. Aniruddha looked like he had won a battle as she was unable to meet his gaze. He smiled at her nervous, coy face as he stepped back, letting go of her hand, as she looked confused, and he turned to pick up the pen.
“Which page was missing a sign?” He asked in a rather normal voice. Bondita took some time to regain her composure and speak. Her mind was numb, and she could not recollect the page number. “Umm… 1…120…6…” She stammered as he found it and signed it. He placed the file down on the bed, capping the pen as she walked up beside him to take the file, trying hard so that her hand did not tremble. He did not look up at her as Bondita eyed the empty corridor while she picked up the file.
“Listen.” She was at the threshold when his words stopped her. “I was just messing with you, Baba and I am fine. I informed him that I would be taking a break, so he asked for someone else to represent him.” He made her look over her shoulder, unsurely at his words. “And I can tell you something if you promise not to tell anyone.” She nodded at his words as she turned to face him, and he stepped forward, speaking in a whisper.
“Umm… he wants to come home.” Aniruddha smiled calmly as Bondita’s eyes widened. “Really?” She asked as if she did not believe it. He nodded. “He wants Som to take over the business and retire, so I… told him to come home.” He watched her face light up as she covered her mouth with her palm in excitement. “I can’t…”
“Hush.” He placed his index finger on his lips, a bit alarmed. “He wants to surprise Jethu when he comes back on Holi.” Bondita smiled and nodded, placing her hand on her lips. She could not help but giggle. “Can I tell Batuk? Oh, wait, no, I can't, he will tell Som Dada. Thamma? No, she will tell Jyatha Moshai. God, I need to tell someone. Let me go find Boudi.” She ran out to the corridor as Aniruddha shook his head.
“Bondita.” He called after her, a little baffled. “I have something else to say, too.” He heard her footsteps on the staircase as he smiled to himself. “Could you not just let me finish talking?” He said to himself, smiling as he shook his head and heard her footsteps recede.
