The Unventured Passions

Brewing Stratagem

"Did you not sleep last night?"
Beenapani closed her notebook and turned towards Bondita as she yawned for the third time after the first lesson.

"Philosophy makes me dizzy!"Bondita yawned again. "And I slept late."

"Slept late? Why? Did the old man keep you awake?" Beena teased her as Bondita rolled her eyes.

"Well, it's my daughter actually... She wasn't in a mood to sleep last night... Hence..."

"Wow! Your daughter? You didn't mention before that you are a mother!" Beena's face brightened for a moment.

"I'm mentioning now." Bondita smiled.

"How old is she?"

"About a year."

"Lucky you!" Beena sighed. "I always wanted to be a mother... Tell me Bondita, how does it feel?"

Bondita sat upright on her chair as she closed her eyes recalling Rudhi's beautiful, innocent face.

"It's an amazing feeling Beena. It's overwhelming. I miss her, all the time, wherever I'm not with her..." She paused. "I'm eager to hear 'Maa' from her."

Beena was listening quietly as her heart longed to share her friend's emotions.
"And what was it like before the birth?" Beena looked expectantly at her.
"I mean I have read so much about it... The mood swings, the overdose of love and care, and... and the pain... Tell me all about it Bondita... Everything... I so want to know." Beena's eyes reflected her tender eagerness as Bondita clearly saw the pain of unrequited desires of motherhood that had nestled in her heart.

"I... I didn't give birth to her."

"What!! Oh.. I didn't... I'm sorry..." Beena lowered her head promptly, biting down her tongue as she spoke in an apologetic tone.
"Bondita, I didn't realise she'd be your step daughter."

"She isn't a step Beena... I'm the only woman my husband ever married... I told you already, didn't I." Bondita paused to weigh her next reply.
"We've adopted her!"

Adoption wasn't a welcoming action, atleast not to the so called elite orthodox society of Bengal. Beena gasped at her answer and raised her hand, placing it on Bondita's shoulder. She squeezed her a little and lowered her voice.
"I'm so sorry Bondita... None of us are lucky enough to get everything in life."

Not realising the reference of her statement Bondita sat quietly awaiting her escape into the wonders of the next lesson, Women Studies!

.................................................

"Mukherjee Saheb, wish you a very good morning."
Anirudh had dialled Neelmoni Mukherjee's private telephone number.

"Barrister Roy Chowdhury! What a pleasant surprise." Neelmoni's voice vibrated from the other end of the black telephone, although a little mechanical, but was vibrant as the new morning.
"Tell me young man, what can I do for you?"

"I won't draw an unnecessary prelude Sir. It's the Swadeshi Arson case." Anirudh's voice was concerned.
"Custodial death is unacceptable!!"

Neelmoni's voice too, sounded grave.
"But the officer in charge gave a formal statement that the Krantikari who died was already sick, suffering from acute tuberculosis."

"Absolutely not!"Anirudh gritted his teeth, yet maintaining his outward composer of his voice over the telephone.
"I have read the reports thoroughly after their arrests, infact I have spoken to each one of them individually, Ramakanto Sardar was not sick... He was tortured to death!"

The concrete firmness in Anirudh's voice made Neelmoni thoughtful for a while, and after a whole one minute of silence, he pressed the telephone receiver to his ear and spoke slowly.