Tark- His Penned Chronicles

Ch26: All these years

I didn't get time to go to her hostel so I directly went to her college, after cleaning my face.

I roamed around the college, talked to my teachers as I was once a student of this college too.

After a while, I entered the filled hall and made myself seated. The curtains on the stage were still closed.

My heart was pumping faster by the thought of meeting her. My hands were sweating. Was I nervous? But why was nervous?

Bondita's pov
I dressed in a saree and put the sindoor on my hairline. Wrapping the black robe around and wearing the graduation cap on my head I waited for the announcement.

I was 11 then when he first made me wear this. I am wearing it today, once again and he will be sitting down there watching me making him and my country proud.

My eyes already started to become moist.

Anirudh's pov
The curtains opened slowly and stood the host by announcing the names of the students.

All the students walked up to the stage on calling their names, received their degrees.

In hundreds of heads, I was searching her, waiting eagerly for the host to call her name.

"So this time," said the host, "topping the list once again, is none other than Bondita Anirudh Roy Chowdhury".

I couldn't control myself. I stood up and started clapping with teary and a subtle smile on my lips. I became too excited and people started staring at me instead of looking at the stage.

"My wife, first ayi hain" I told the fellow spectators who didn't ask me. I was acting weird but it's an emotion for me. I had left my career, my childhood love, burdened my young age with the responsibilities of a mid-aged man at just 22 years of age. I was happy for her, after bearing everything finally achieved what she is meant for, setting an example, aspiring to inspire others.

"Sir please sit down, audiences at the back are complaining." Said, one volunteer.

"Bondita came first!" I said merrily.

"Yes sir now please calm down".

But it took no time for my happiness to turn into happy shock.

Upon calling her name that laraku girl
walked in wearing a nicely drapped white saree with black n red borders and a braid in her hair.

She walked in gracefully, proudly holding her head high while the hall echoed with cheers for an Indian girl.

For a second, my jaws dropped and my eyes widened. Bondita is still a little Bondita, a 9 year old soul in a 19 year old body. Her behaviour is still immature and feisty and stubborn to its peak. There was a strange flame in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

Her walk and behaviour portrayed royalty, like a queen. Her face is shown with instincts of nobility and generosity.

All my anger for that girl vanished because she was Bondita.

Bondita's pov
My eyes searched for him and when I caught his glimpse among the audience painful memories grasped my head instead of the sweet ones.

Ek din aisi nehi biti ki mein nehi royi, ek mausam aisa nehi guzraa ki mein chain se soyi, ek hafta aisa nehi gaya jab mein dil se hasi aur ek pal aisa nehi gaya hab wo mujhe yaad nehi aye.

I used to sit in front of the idol of Krishna that once belonged to my mother in law, which kaka gifted me.
I used to cry my heart out, my fragile broken heart used to break, even more, a feeling of dejection.