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Truth behind the Facade

By dawn's early light, two dark silhouette came, creeping inside the RayBahadur palace as the sun opened up as a flower on the horizon, rising to send those petals of gold to warm the earth - mind, soul and body. But darkness had still loomed over the huge study hall where Neelmoni Mukherjee had just spent his sleepless night, sipping his expensive scotch, and dreaming about the destruction of the man who he thought, was about to destroy his reputation. The walls felt colder than usual as the two shawl clad figures bent forward to pay their homage to the influential RayBahadur.

"Is it done?" Neelmoni Mukherjee's voice was gruff and hoarse, partly from age and partly from the nightlong destructive undertones that his mind had relayed.

"Yes, Mai baap."
One of the men spoke up.
"It was a little difficult to enter the court and rig the telephone line owing to the heavy police guard, but..."

"Did you do it right? Yes or No?" Neelmoni growled in impatience.

"Yes, I did... Mai baap, I'm your loyal..."

Neelmoni didn't let the man complete his words as he almost threw a rectangular folded piece of paper tied with a red string at him.
The man quickly picked it up and clutched it to his thin chest, almost in tears.

"Thank you... Thank you so much. You are my god... This land is my forefathers... Now I'll be able to die in peace... Thank..."

Neelmoni Mukherjee raised his hand to stop him.
"Leave the city... At once... and you know what would happen if you ever speak."

The man bowed down again and rushed out of the door, clutching the property papers with his body, probably thanking his stars and praying to his god never to meet this heartless old man again.

"And you?" Neelmoni had turned towards the other man.

"I did... Yes."
The man's voice was low.

"What's your name again?"
Neelmoni asked disdainfully.

"Koreem. Koreem Mia, Saheb."
The man removed the sheath from his head revealing his poverty stricken shrunken face.

"Daughter's marriage, isn't it?"

"Ji Saheb."

"Telephone lines are tricky things Karim Mia... Specially the house lines, once rigged, it can be fixed in hours." Neelmoni let out a sigh.

"No Saheb, as I had said. Barring me, only the Almighty can find the fault where I rigged it." Koreem hung his head low and spoke with a firmness in his voice.

"Hmm.." Neelmoni hummed.
"But, I want you to stay at watch."
He picked up a sealed envelope and waved it at the poor man.
"And, you'll get it once the work is done."

"What work Saheb?" Koreem folded his hands and asked.

"Not yours... You may leave." Neelmoni growled at the man as Koreem lowered his gaze and turned towards the door.
"And, now... Barrister Anirudh Roy Chowdhury... Let's see which God of your's saves your soul!"

Koreem left, as quietly as he had entered, as the indoors of the entire RayBahadur palace as well as it's walls echoed Neelmoni Mukherjee's dark sinister laughter.

"Baba!"

The soft voice had made him stop, as RayBahadur Neelmoni Mukherjee turned around to face the only soul on earth he cared for.

"Rai Maa??" He exclaimed.

"Baba... You promised..." Raimoti's voice had ripples in it.

"I know Maa... " The old man replied slowly.
"But, aren't promises meant to be broken?" He got up from his imported lounge chair and staggered towards his daughter.
"You know what they say? Everything is fair in love and war..." He inched closer to her and tried to touch her head lovingly.
Raimoti stepped back.

"And this is probably both... Both love and war, Maa... It's both love and war!"
His menacing laughter filled the empty darkness of the room with cruelty once again, as a single drop of tear escaped Raimoti's eye.

"But, you had promised Baba..." She turned around and murmured to herself, slowly making her way back to the staircase, leading to her self confined deserted bedroom once again.
"You shouldn't have broken your promise Baba... You shouldn't have... " She exhaled inaudibly.

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

The morning after the stormy night was especially chirpy and bright, or so it had appeared to Bondita who was sitting infront of the dressing mirror to do last minute touch up to her carefully made up appearance.
She had worn a neatly pleated blue saree, with golden embroidery on the edges, her hair was beautifully pinned in a top knot, with a golden pin securing the loose end meticulously. Her hair was combed into side parting, making her sindoor slightly visible. She wore golden danglers and matched it with the golden wrist watch that Trilochan Roy Chowdhury had gifted her on her last birthday.

"Boudi, the phone isn't..." Batuk had suddenly entered her room, unannounced, as his eyes froze on the mirror reflecting Bondita's smiling face.

"Wow! Whom are you planning to kill today?" He teased her.

"Your Dada." Bondita winked at him through the glass.

"Isn't he already dead? Poor guy.."
Batuk chuckled softly turning his eyes away from her and looking at her notebooks kept on the table.

"Your Dada isn't the 'poor guy' that you think him to be", Bondita let out a laughter drawing the fine wing of kohl on her eyelids.

"Really? You think so Bondita?" Batuk suddenly looked up with narrowed eyes.
"Seeing Dada, I'm scared of love Bondita! Look at him... He is desparately working to win the case, save lives, and then he goes to your college to give lectures during the day to keep you entertained." He let out a sharp sigh.
"The poor guy works all night to complete his law work... "

Bondita's face had suddenly turned black.
"I didn't... ask him to come to my college."
She murmured thoughtfully.

"Exactly! But still he's doing it because he wants to see you happy..." Batuk sighed again.
"You know Boudi, he hasn't slept in the last one week... My heart cries for him."

Bondita couldn't reply.
She clutched the golden necklace in her hand firmly before keeping it back on the table.

"And, Bondita, last I was told that you aren't comfortable telling anyone in your college about your 'reputed influential' husband... So what happened suddenly? You are fine with him visiting you now?"

"No-one knows." Bondita murmured softly.

"What?"

"No one knows in my college that he's my husband."

"WHAT??"
Batuk's words were like needles, piercing her mercilessly.
"So, the poor guy is doing love's labour. Excellent!! And, you think no one would notice the romance??"

"What romance?" Bondita asked softly, conflicted with the words that she had just heard.

"Your famous eye to eye conversations? The smiles, the gestures? Come on Bondita... You aren't that naive, are you?" He looked up and held his head in his hand, running his fingers through his hair, just like his elder brother.

"Bondita, I've known you two all my life, I need not be present there to know what might have been happening... Even if you guys don't talk, it's easy for a blind to detect the chemistry you have."

"I... I don't know... What you are..."

Batuk raised his eyebrows at her.
"Bondita... Please tell me you haven't thought about it? You haven't thought what your classmates would think if they see you two together!! Oh god Bondita..."

"What would they think?" Bondita's voice was low and measured.

"They know you are married. And now suddenly they see you with this insanely handsome man, romancing around... Why don't you tell me what they would think?"
He slammed the notebook back on the table and let out another sigh and Bondita called out to him.

"I'll fix it Batuk... I'll.."

"You better do Bondita." He turned around once again.

"Oh... by the way... the telephone isn't..."

"Yes. It stopped last night." She exhaled sharply, her mind immersed in thoughts that Batuk's words had probed into her.
"Please drop an urgent complaint on your way to the med school, will you?"

"Hmm... I'll... Telephones are urgent things." Batuk breathed the words and walked out of the room leaving Bondita alone with her thoughts.
Her Barrister Babu was going miles for her, and what was she doing?
Blaming him for mistrusting her?
He isn't omniscient... How would he had known that she would file the petition on his behalf?

Bondita pressed her eyes together letting two drops of tears escaped her black lined eyes.
She had been too harsh on him, she thought. And now, it was time to fix it!

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

The classroom was vibrant and enthusiastic as Anirudh completed his interactive lecture in Woman Rights. He wasn't like any of the typical professors, his teaching style was fun and exciting. He valued questions, he laughed with the students, he respected their views and opinions.
The ninety minutes had felt like a blink of an eye as Bondita too sat in the classroom, mesmerised by the words that Anirudh had spoken. Occasionally, he would steal a glance at her, breaking her chain of concentration and making her blush.

"He seems fond of you." Beena had nudged her once with her elbow amidst the lecture.

The entire classroom was bursting with over-pouring enthusiasm and praises for the new revolutionary lecturer, every soul was filled to the brim with gratitude and knowledge, barring one... Professor Prathamesh Ganguly. Known to be a modernist, he too tried to be happy at this success of education, but, only to an extent! This class was his strong hold, his monopoly, until then... And, although Anirudh was only a guest, but Professor Ganguly knew very well that the lessons delivered by Barrister Anirudh would be compared with his own, even long after he's gone.

"May I ask a question?"
A young man had raised his hand.

"You absolutely may. What's your name?" Anirudh smiled politely.

"Ramakanto." The boy replied.
"Anirudh, why don't you join our college as a full time teacher? None of us would ever bunk lessons."

The entire class radiated a joyous agreement as the lighthearted gesture touched Bondita's heart.

"He is truly amazing!" She murmured.

"Is he?" Beena raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously.

Anirudh was smiling.
"Well Ramakanto. That's an excellent proposition... May be this can be my retirement plan." He chuckled softly and turned towards Prathamesh Ganguly.
"Your teacher was kind enough to lend me few of his lessons... I definitely don't want to steal more."

"But you have stolen already..."
A female voice spoke from the crowd.

Anirudh turned around and narrowed his eyes quizzically.

"Ours hearts, Anirudh... Our hearts!" Another spoke up, making the class burst into fits of laughter.
There was a festivity that had brightened every soul in the classroom, and that's what had burnt Prathamesh Ganguly more...
Why can't they be like this when he teaches? He isn't any less than this Anirudh?
Who is this Anirudh anyway?

He stood behind the charismatic revolutionary, answering life questions effortlessly and with humor, as he hung his head low, lost in thoughts...
How can someone be this perfect?
Or, is it only a facade?
A beautiful facade hiding some sinister truth within...
Prathamesh Ganguly sighed.
He had to find out what breaks this man... What is hidden behind this magnanimous facade of perfection...
Everyone has weaknesses... And so would Anirudh!

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

I'm on a writing spree today. Do let me know how this was.
Please vote.
I'll update once the story hits atleast 100 votes.




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