As Bondita stepped inside the study room, her feet tangled in the mat, and she felt herself losing balance. She was about to fall, her arms flailing wildly as she tried to regain her footing. But before she could hit the ground, a strong hand grasped her elbow, steadying her.

Bondita's heart skipped a beat as she felt Anirudh's hand wrap around her arm, his fingers closing around her like a vice. She looked up to see his face, his eyes locked onto hers with a mixture of concern and surprise.

For a moment, they just stood there, frozen in time. Bondita's pulse was racing, and she could feel the warmth of Anirudh's hand on her skin. It was a touch that sent shivers down her spine, a touch that brought back memories of the past.

As she looked into his eyes, Bondita saw a flicker of something there, something that looked almost like recognition.

 It was a spark that ignited a flame of hope within her, a hope that maybe, just maybe, Anirudh was starting to remember. 

 But as quickly as it had appeared, the spark was gone, and Anirudh's expression returned to its usual stoic mask. 

"Be careful," he said, his voice low and rough, as he helped her steady herself. "You could have hurt yourself."Bondita nodded, still feeling the effects of his touch. 

She pulled her arm free, trying to compose herself, but her heart was still racing. She couldn't help but wonder if that moment of touch had been a coincidence, or if it was something more. 

Bondita's eyes followed Anirudh as he pointed towards the sofa, his voice firm but polite. "Waha betho!" he said, his eyes already moving away from hers as he turned to retrieve the chalk and slate.

She felt a slight pang of disappointment at the sudden dismissal, but she pushed it aside and made her way to the sofa. As she sat down, she couldn't help but notice the way Anirudh moved with a quiet confidence, his movements economical and precise.

As he busied himself with the chalk and slate, Bondita took the opportunity to study him, to try and read the expression on his face. But as usual, his mask was firmly in place, giving away nothing. 

As he busied himself with the chalk and slate, Bondita took the opportunity to study him, to try and read the expression on his face. But as usual, his mask was firmly in place, giving away nothing.

As Anirudh turned back to Bondita, the chalk and slate in hand, he gave her a stern look. "I will teach you, Vaijayanti," he said, his voice firm and authoritative. "You will learn from me, and you will learn quickly."

"Very well, Barrister Babu," she said, trying to sound obedient and respectful. "I am ready to learn from you."

Anirudh nodded, his expression unyielding. "Good," he said. "Then let us begin. I will teach you about the law, and you will learn to think like a lawyer."'

Anirudh's words brought her back to the present, and she looked up at him with a sense of curiosity. "Hum aaj varnmala se shuru karenge," he said, his voice firm and authoritative. "Dhyaan se padhogi toh jaldi seekh jaogi." 

As Anirudh continued to speak, Bondita's eyes never left his face. "Ek hafte mein seekh jaogi toh baar baar yaha nhi aana padega," he said, his voice firm but with a hint of softness.

 Bondita felt a pang of sadness at his words. She didn't want to stop coming to see Anirudh, even if it was just as a student. She wanted to be around him, to be near him, to learn from him.

She remembered the countless hours they had spent together on this very sofa, laughing, talking, and learning from each other. She had always been his student, but not in the classical sense. She had been his apprentice, his protégée, his friend.

As she looked around the room, Bondita's eyes fell on the familiar surroundings. The books, the papers, the chalk and slate. It was all so familiar, yet so different. She felt like she was stepping back into a past life, one that she thought she had left behind.

Bondita's words were laced with a playful tease, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she spoke. "Are yeh barrister Babu, itni bhi kya jaldi hai? Vese bhi jaldi ka kaam shaitaan ka hota hai. Aap shaitaan hai kya?" 

Anirudh's reaction was immediate, his face darkening with a scowl. He glared at Bondita, his eyes flashing with annoyance, as if daring her to continue with her jest. The air around them seemed to vibrate with tension, the atmosphere charged with a mix of irritation and attraction. 

Anirudh's eyes narrowed, his face darkening with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Vaijayanti, tumhari zubaan kabhi-kabhi bahut tez ho jaati hai," he said, his voice low and even.

As the silence stretched out, Bondita began to feel a sense of unease. She shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for some sign, some indication that Anirudh had heard her, that he had understood her joke. But there was nothing, just a blank, expressionless face that seemed to be staring right through her.

Finally, Anirudh spoke, his voice flat and detached. "I am your teacher, Vaijayanti," he said, his words dripping with formality. 

"Let us begin the lesson." He turned back to the slate, his movements mechanical, and began to write. Bondita watched him, feeling a sense of disappointment wash over her. 

She had tried to connect with him, to get a reaction out of him, but it seemed that Anirudh was determined to keep her at arm's length.

As Anirudh started writing on the slate, Bondita got up from the sofa and walked over to where he was sitting. She sat down beside him, her thigh brushing against his, and he was taken aback by her sudden proximity. 

He was shocked, his eyes widening slightly as he felt her warmth and closeness. He moved a little aside, trying to create some distance between them, but Bondita just smiled mischievously and moved closer.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she leaned in, her face inches from his. Anirudh's heart skipped a beat as he felt her breath on his skin, and he couldn't help but be aware of the curve of her neck, the softness of her hair.

He tried to focus on the lesson, to remember that he was her teacher and she was his student, but it was impossible. Bondita's presence was too distracting, too captivating. He felt like he was being pulled into a vortex, a whirlpool of emotions and sensations that he couldn't control.

As Bondita moved closer, her shoulder touching his, Anirudh felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. He tried to push her away, to create some space between them, but she just laughed and snuggled in closer.

"Let's learn together, Barrister Babu," she whispered, her voice husky and seductive. Anirudh's heart was racing, his pulse pounding in his ears. He knew he had to get a grip, to remember his duties as a teacher, but it was getting harder and harder to resist Bondita's charms.

Anirudh's eyes snapped towards Bondita, his neck jerking towards her as if he had been punched in the gut. The question had come out of nowhere, and it caught him off guard. "Aapne shaadi kyun nhi ki," she had asked, her voice innocent and curious.

But Anirudh's mind was not innocent. It was a jumble of memories and emotions, all of which came flooding back as he heard her question. 

He remembered the days when Bondita was a little girl, full of life and energy, always making him smile. 

He remembered teaching her, playing with her, and laughing with her. He remembered the way she would ask for ek badam rosogulla, and the way she would sit muh foola kar, after getting angry from him. 

But most of all, he remembered the way he had felt about her. The way he had loved her, even back then, when she was just a little girl. The way he had cherished her, and the way he had wanted to protect her.

And then, like a slap in the face, his mind reminded him of the reality. "Aniruddh Krishna Nagar se judi hui har cheez se tumhe nafrat hai," it said. He remembered the way he had been conditioned to hate anything related to Krishna Nagar, including the people.

But little Bondita's voice cut through his thoughts, like a knife through butter. "Sakha Babu," she said, her voice heavy with emotions. And suddenly, the surroundings went black, and all Anirudh could see was Bondita's face, her eyes looking up at him with a deep sadness.

"Aapko apni Bondita ki yaad nhi aati?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. "Bata dijiye na inhe aapne meri wajah se shaadi nhi ki."

Anirudh's heart skipped a beat as he heard her words. He felt like he had been punched in the gut, and he couldn't breathe. 

He couldn't answer her question, because he didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to explain the complex emotions that had been swirling inside him for so long. 

 All he could do was look at her, his eyes locked on hers, as he tried to process the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.

As Anirudh stood there, frozen in time, he couldn't help but think about the truth that Bondita had spoken. 

The 16-year-old Bondita, with her bright smile and infectious laughter, had been the only girl in his heart since he was 24 years old. He had tried to deny it, to push the feelings away, but he couldn't shake off the fact that he had fallen deeply in love with her.

How could he marry someone else, when his heart belonged to Bondita and only Bondita? The thought of being with another woman, of sharing his life with someone who wasn't Bondita, was unbearable.

 He felt like he would be living a lie, like he would be betraying his own heart.

Anirudh's mind was a jumble of emotions, as he thought about the what-ifs and the maybes. What if he had acknowledged his feelings for Bondita earlier? Maybe things would have been different, maybe they could have been together.

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

Anirudh's expression remained neutral as he gathered his thoughts and papers, his eyes avoiding Bondita's. "Aap dosti karenge mujhse?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. 

He didn't respond, instead choosing to focus on packing up his belongings. The silence between them grew thicker, heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, he spoke, his voice detached and formal. "Vaijayanti, I am your teacher. It is not appropriate for us to engage in...dosti." He emphasized the word, his tone implying that it was a frivolous concept, one that had no place in their relationship. 

 Bondita's face fell, her eyes clouding over with disappointment. Anirudh's gaze flickered towards her, but he quickly looked away, his expression unyielding."I expect you to come prepared for the next lesson," he said, his voice firm.

 "We will be covering more complex topics, and I will not tolerate any lack of dedication or focus."With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Bondita to wonder if she would ever be able to breach the walls he had built around himself. 

The distance between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, and Bondita couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and longing.