Walking distance from their house in central Calcutta to the Jewish Bakery was about forty minutes. Bondita was almost running, barefooted, as the impact of the blast had made her lose a pair of her slippers. Anirudh on the other hand was staggering, he was hurt, and the blackened soiled cast on his left leg had made it impossible for him to walk freely. He needed to get rid of it, right then.

"Barrister Babu, just a little more." Bondita urged him again, her arms wrapped around his waist, and Anirudh nodded his head trying to smile, his stomach churning painfully at the thought of what he had lost!
The fire had not only taken their home but all his hardwork, the evidence that he had so skillfully gathered against Neelmoni Mukherjee. He had everything planned, the back-up, all schemes and schedules, but what he hadn't plan was a back-up for his back-up plan.
Unable to express his fearful concerns to his wife, Anirudh just walked quietly, his teeth clenched in pain.

"What's there at the bakery Bondita?" He had asked once.

"You'll see", was what she replied.

The far stretched city road seemed never-ending, and seeing her husband's condition she request a pulley rikshaw to take them to their destination. Under normal circumstances, Anirudh would have vehemently refused to be carried by another like that, but that night was completely different.
He had neither the strength or the heart to oppose his wife in anyway.
It was she who was guiding them, it was she who led, and he, for once, let go of himself completely to her decisions.

"I hope Rudhi and Kaka is fine." He had murmured unmindfuly, and Bondita had squeezed his hand in reassurance.

"Ofcourse they are fine. Don't worry." Bondita pressed a smile on her lips, and at that moment, this was all he needed, the support, the assurance, and someone to tell him that everything will be fine soon.

Anirudh sighed in apparent relief.

It was around eleven when the hand-rikshaw stopped infront of the bakery, and Bondita got down at once and rushed inside.

"Yes?"
An old man in his late seventies asked her through his fat rimmed glasses.

"I'm here to see Dwarikadhish." She spoke confidently.

"Who?"

"Dwarikadhish." She forced. " I've called here before. My name is Bondita."

There were more than a few customers sitting on the wooden bench nearby, sipping their cups of late night tea silently, and a couple of them raised their heads and narrowed their eyes at her suspiciously.

"We don't serve that here."
The old man replied, a little rudely this time, trying to brush her off the shop counter.

"I know you do. Please arrange a meeting. I request you."
Bondita had folded her hands in a plea and the men with narrowed eyes raised their eyebrows in curiosity.

"Sorry Madam. I think you have the wrong address. We serve fresh baked breads and cakes and yes, you can get omelette too, along with tea, and fresh juices."
The man remarked plainly, his face expressionless.

"Then we'll have two glasses of fresh orange juice please."

Anirudh had paid the rikshaw puller and was now standing behind his wife, and the old man looked at him at once as he spoke slowly.

"Sure Sir. Please take a seat." He got up from behind the counter and guided them towards a cabin inside his modest hotel.

Anirudh felt exhausted, drained, and sitting inside the cabin, under this pseudo peaceful environment, he felt a little at ease.

"Barrister babu, you don't understand. It's important that we meet..."
Bondita left her words half eaten, as the old man returned with a steel jug in hand, ready to pour them some water.
"Barrister Babu, we'll have to find him, he can help us, and I know... "

The old man heard her, and then with his wrinkled narrowed eyes, he looked at at the soot covered man seated infront.

"Barrister... Barrister Babu?" He murmured inaudibly, as if in a shock, as his old lips started to quiver at once, along with the steel jug held in his hand.
"Barrister Anirudh Roy Chowdhury?"
His words were a suppressed cry now, as he immediately sank down on the floor and held the Barrister's feet.

Both Anirudh and Bondita were startled at this sudden change of the old man's behaviour. He too had bent down at once to pick the old man up from the floor.
And, before he could speak, he heard the veteran to call out for someone, loudly.

"Chote...Oh, chote, go and bake some fresh dwarikadhish, right now!"

"Is it a new kind of bread now?"
A middle aged curious customer seated near them had asked out loud, and the old man chuckled at him politely.

"It's a new cake actually, old Jewish recipe, with basil and ginger, and orange peel, and..."

The customer snorted at his words.
"Keep your basils and oranges with you, I'm happy with the ginger tea as of now."
He left the empty cup on the table and got up at once, tossing a tip to a young boy who was dozing beside the counter.

"That's my grandson, Fahim." The old man pointed towards the boy and Anirudh nodded.

"Arey Oh Chote..."

Anirudh smiled awkwardly, and Bondita saw with gaped expression as another old man came out slowly from inside the kitchen, bowing infront of them, as his elder brother gestured him with his eyes, he left through the backdoor immediately, without any question..

"That's Chote, my younger brother." He paused and smiled, his eyes full of admiration for the young Barrister seated infront. "He's called Fahruk, and I'm Fardin Bottlewala."

Anirudh joined his hands to greet him, and the old man held his hands at once.

"You'll not know me Barrister Babu, but you're my god, our god!"
A tear escaped his eyelids and the words came out as a mere whisper.

Bondita saw with opened mouth and widened eyes as the old man shed silent tears to her husband. Her gaze shifted to Anirudh now, his face hardened, thoughtful.

"Bottlewala?"
Anirudh gasped too, for he was well acquainted with this surname, a name from the list of twenty one Krantikaris for whom he was fighting this unequal battle.

"Nadeem?"
He muttered, and the old man nodded slowly.

"My son Babu, Nadeem Bottlewala... He worships you."
He hushed.

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

"So what is this place called?"

Anirudh's piercing gaze was on his baby brother, as he sat quietly at his feet, cutting through the dirty soiled cast from his left leg.

"Anush.. Anushilan...." Batuk murmured, almost inaudibly.

"What again?"

"Anushilan Samity, Dada." Batuk looked up to meet his brother's gaze, scared to face him with the truth.

"So this is the reason for your nightly endeavours?"

Batuk nodded quietly.
"I... I want to serve for the country."

"Can you not serve for the country being a good doctor?"
Anirudh sighed loudly, clearly unhappy with his brother's direct association with the deathly Krantikaris, not to mention the shock.

"Satya Da too is a doctor, a better one, but he works directly for the Swadeshi movement." Batuk tried to object faintly.

"Non-violent Swadeshi movement is one thing, and fighting in the front, being a Krantikari is another... Satya is a Krantikari, a trained and an efficient one, and you are meant to serve the people by being an efficient doctor, Batakrishna Roy Chowdhury."
Anirudh held his head back, leaning against the worn out couch on which he sat.

"But, but I... I don't believe in the Non violent movement." Batuk was stuttering.

"And in Gandhiji?"
Anirudh asked softly.

"No." Batuk nodded.
"It's Netaji for me, always has been."

The cast had come off smoothly from Anirudh's leg, all healed, and Batuk kept washing the blackened soot marks with lukewarm water and antiseptic.

"You can't choose Batuk, we Indian probably don't have the luxury to choose." He sighed again. "Alone Gandhiji or Netaji can't get us freedom, for it has to be collective, collaborative."

"But how? With such distinctive ideological clashes?" Batuk widened his eyes in question.

Anirudh looked at his brother for a moment and smiled fondly.
How big he has grown up all of a sudden!

"When your house is in fire, do you think about internal household conflicts that you may have with your siblings?" He asked rhetorically.
"No, right? Same here as well Batuk. Both the ideologies need to collaborate to achieve a collective freedom, else there is no point... And the collaboration needs to be done at our level, the grassroot level."

Batuk was gulping every word that his brother spoke.
"Why is there a 'no point'? Isn't independence the dream that we all seek?"
Batuk asked again, now wiping his hands in the same bowl.

"No point' because it's not the geographical freedom that we need here." He paused and smiled at him, moving his leg and wiping the water residue with a dry cloth kept near him.
"It's an overall independence Batuk, just not land... It's the overall freedom of thoughts, ideas, knowledge, actions... And, to achieve this, we can't have separatist sentiments... Violent, non-violent, these ideas needs to merge and emerge as a wholesome idea, a wholesome ideology. For, if this doesn't happen, then even after we get our so-called independence, the internal dependency and conflict would still remain... What will we do then? Divide our lands?"

Batuk sighed and nodded at his brother's words. It's always so inspiring to listen to his thoughts, it's always so new, so refreshing.

Anirudh had sat upright, and was about to say something, when both the brothers were startled a little by the sound of collective applause coming from the dark corridor.

It's not yet been an hour as Batuk brought Anirudh and Bondita to this hideout of theirs as per Satya's instructions.
Bondita was a mess, covered with black soot, unrecognisable, and after entering the place, the first thing she asked for was a bath, lucky before coming out of the house, she had stuffed a saree and a dhoti in her sling bag in a hurry.
Anirudh on the other hand had sat outside, in the moderate sized drawing room of this old building. He needed to get rid of the hard cast on his leg, and his brother had sat by his side, helping him in his need.

"Wonderful, Just wonderful, Anirudh Da." Satya had come out in the light, clapping, and along with him came four others, along with Bondita, now bathed and wearing a simple clean saree.
"Such clarity not thoughts and idea... We really have so much to learn from you."

Satya was smiling, and Anirudh stood up slowly to greet him with open arms.
Satya limped infront and let him tie his wounded body in a warm brotherly embrace.

"Bondita told me what happened tonight. It's terrible, no one deserves to..."
Satya let out a soft exhale, and Anirudh nodded his head slowly.

"I too heard what happened tonight Satya," he sighed. "Batuk told me." He let go of the wounded man and eyed the bruises on his face.
"How is she?"

Satya nodded.
"You were right Anirudh Da, she's a fighter, she'll survive!"

Anirudh let out another loud sigh.
"It's too bad... Neelmoni is really going above his limits now."

"He crossed his limits the night he attacked you, Barrister Babu." Bondita had come forward and stood by her husband's side.
"But, you were just saying that Non violence isn't the way, then how do you answer such assaults? How do you fight back the British if not with weapons?"

Anirudh turned towards his wife and smiled.
This was the same Bondita whom he had taught to question, the one whom he had missed so much in the past few days.

"You fight back, with this..." He pointed at his head with his index finger and smiled gently at her.
"An eye for an eye would make the whole world blind Bondita."

"But isn't it necessary to fight back, as in literally, if you truly want to defend yourself? Otherwise you'll be considered as weak, won't you?"

Anirudh pressed his lips, as he saw the rest of the room silenty listening to their logical argument, savouring every word, every idea coming from them.

"You definitely need to fight back, but the fight need not be a bloodbath. You fight with logic, reason, knowledge, law." He paused. " But, that isn't stopping you to raise your voice though... Hiss Bondita, hiss... But biting is absolutely optional."

Bondita nodded quietly at her husband's words. It's always so enlightening to speak to him, to hear him speak, even if their ideas don't match, there was always something to learn for sure.

"We all have flaws." Girish had suddenly spoken up, he had been a little too broken tonight after losing his dear friend Ramcharan.
"But, how can you be so perfect Anirudh Babu?"

Anirudh looked up at his words and let out a sigh, a sigh of regret, probably failure that had been eating him since he saw his house blow up.

"No Girish, I'm not." He paused.
"I'm anything but perfect, for tonight I've probably committed the biggest blunder of my life."
His voice was choking, but his self confession reeked of bravery, as all the eyes in the room narrowed at him in question.

"I lost all evidence against Neelmoni Mukherjee tonight, in the fire..." He had sank back on the old couch, devastated, the acute pain of guilt in his heart had surfaced once again.
"I had done everything to hide it from everyone, to protect it... But..."
He buried his face in his hands and then felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

"Don't worry Barrister Babu... We'll sail through this too." Bondita had sat down on the floor infront of him, holding his knees.

"Where was the evidence kept?"
Batuk had spoken up finally, as his brother replied without lifting his face.

"In a red envelope. I had given it to Bondita as..."

"As a love letter?"
Bondita had stood up at once, her face reflecting an inexplicably expression, as she grabbed her sling bag and pulled out the soiled red envelope with big heart cut-outs infront.
"This one?"

Anirudh was looking at her, blankly, his mind unable to fathom what just happened, and how was it possible either, as the others in the room had started to rejoice already.

"How Bondita? Of everything?"
He had almost pounced on her, holding her shoulders, shaking her with the question.
"How?"

"Because..." Bondita looked away bashfully.
"Because you wrote it for me, and I haven't read it." She pressed her lips as her face flushed instantly.
"I would've died out of curiosity if I had left it back in the house. It's... It's a letter from you afterall."

Anirudh couldn't think anymore, as tears of happiness mixed with a strange relief washed over his entire being, making him feel as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest. And, in that moment, the surrounding, the people around, everything seemed to fade away in a far distance, and it was only his Bondita infront of his eyes, just his Bondita.

"I love you so much Shona, what would I do without you??" Anirudh cried out, his hands pulling her swiftly into a tight embrace, an embrace that was meant to paint everyone's face in the hue of love... Specially Satya's.