Begusarai

006

"There is nothing a man cannot achieve if he puts his complete dedication into it."

Achintya believes in that. He will always be the kind of person who, by any means, will not kneel before a situation but will make it bend to his will.

_

Achintya's daily college visits had taken a backseat as the election fast approached. The preparation for rallies and the campaign rested on his shoulders. His father had entrusted him with the responsibility, and as always, Achintya was doing everything he could to make his father proud.

This meant sacrificing and chastising his own comfort and pleasures.

A week earlier, when his father had given him the responsibility for the campaign, Achintya thought, "This is it. The time when I will finally forget about her. She will soon be erased from my mind."

His body and mind became occupied with work. Politics consumed a large portion of his time. Traveling to different states, meeting politicians, devising strategies to sabotage the opposition—all of it tired him out.

But alas, the thought did not match reality.

Every night, when Achintya went to sleep—sometimes in his own bedroom, sometimes in the guest house where the funds were hidden, and sometimes even in warehouses because it got so late his bones ached—he would close his eyes and see those big eyes dancing in front of him, illuminated by the glow of a flashlight.

Achintya couldn’t understand it. He had been with other women before. For heaven’s sake, the girl wasn’t even that beautiful. He had seen women far more stunning than her.

And yet, she was the one who wouldn’t leave his mind.

When he closed his eyes, she was there. Looking at him with those big eyes, stealing glances and shying away just when he would catch her. Then, once the sun came up, his mood would sour at the thought that, yet again, he wouldn’t be able to catch a glimpse of her.

That his dreams were just that—dreams.

The thought infuriated him to no end.
_

It was a tradition in the Chaudhary family that Phulan Chaudhary himself would prepare Sunday dinner, and the whole family would eat together.

"What happened, Guddi bitiya?" Rukmani Devi asked.

"Nothing, Choti Amma... it's just that the people at college have finally lost their minds."

Achintya was lying on the khaat, his head in Durga Devi's lap. "Why so?" he heard Rukmani inquiring.

"Oh... where do I even begin—"

"What you're dying to tell, we already know, Guddi," Achintya lazily commented. He, like everyone else, was well aware of Guddi's dramatics.

"—you stay quiet!" Guddi glared. "The college has shifted the first-year class timings, Choti Amma. Now, we have to report at 7:45 a.m. sharp instead of the more relaxed 11 a.m."

The news caught his interest. Achintya sat up. "Every first-year? From every stream?" He had already done a background check on her—he wasn’t ashamed to admit that—and knew she was a first-year B.Sc. Microbiology student.

"No, only mine. I'm that special," Guddi replied sarcastically. After receiving his infamous glare, she meekly added, "Yes, every first-year, Bhai. Happy now?" She knew better than to make him angry. Being on Achintya's good side was beneficial for her, as he wasn't as strict as Mithilesh or as controlling as Vijay.

Achintya was cool, laid-back even. But he was dangerous—oh, so dangerous—when he got mad. Not that it happened often, and Guddi definitely didn’t want to be the cause of it.