Ankita and Amba had both enrolled in the first year of Computer Science Honors at the same college. From the very first day, they developed a close friendship. Amba was good at her studies but was a bit shy, whereas Ankita was of average academic performance but very smart in her manners and behavior. Moreover, Ankita came from a well-off family—her father was a gold merchant. Many people knew the name Rayan Jewellers.
Gradually, Ankita became good friends with all the other classmates as well. But in class, everyone called Ankita and Amba "twins." Whether that friendship would stay like twin sisters or turn bitter like Devyani and Sharmistha—that was yet to be seen.
They were still in their first year when they both took part in a college event. Amba had said many times, "I can't dance. Let me sing instead. You dance alone. You choreograph so beautifully—I won't be able to keep up." But Ankita didn't listen and forced her to perform the dance.
Though Ankita's performance was met with thunderous applause, after they came off stage, Amba had to hear people saying, "It looked like Ankita was dancing with a wooden doll." Ankita brushed it off, saying, "Let them say what they want."
After the event, while they were changing, one of their other friends came running and said, "Come quickly, we've been called to meet the seniors who've graduated." One senior brother suddenly asked Amba, "Can you recite something?" Amba was startled and stayed quiet. Seeing her hesitate, Ankita nudged her and said, "What's wrong? Say something." Amba replied, "I can say something, but only if it's by an unknown poet. I can't quite recall…"
A deep voice ordered, "Let's hear it—" Ankita looked in that direction, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly recited:
> I do not understand you, beloved,
So please forgive me.
You too do not understand me—
Is that why you've gone so far?
You are an image of my soul,
I wanted to paint you with colors.
The day you left me,
The colors of my heart left too.
I didn't know then,
How hard it would be to forget you.
After reciting this, Ankita fell silent. "Did you write that? Have you had your heart broken?" one of the senior sisters asked. "No, not at all," Ankita replied with a shy smile. "Then why such sorrow in the verse?" Amba chimed in, "Why, do you need to fall in love to write poetry?"
The brother who had asked for the recitation now asked, "What's your name?" "Amba Sarkar," she replied. "What's the need to answer him?" said one senior sister. "Sumon just wanted to know the name of the poetess," she added. Though Amba felt hurt, she still said, "Sorry." Sumon repeated the name to himself a few times—"Sumon, Sumon…"
Then Ankita spoke up, "My name is Ankita Pramanik. I live near Kakurgachi."
"Wow, so Ankita can dance well, writes poetry—what else do you do?" Before Amba could say anything, another senior interrupted, "You can go now. You're very disturbing."
Sumon protested, "Why are you saying it like that? She's our junior after all."
Another brother added, "Go on, dear. Why stir things up?" Sumon tried to object but then didn't stay there anymore. Later, Ankita told Amba that many more things were said after that.
Perhaps everything in life is predestined. And perhaps it's human nature to seek comfort in the place we get hurt. Maybe that's why, despite everything, Amba ended up cherishing Sumon in a corner of her heart.
---
A few days after that event, on a Wednesday afternoon, Amba was standing at the auto stand at Chiriamore. While looking around, her gaze suddenly fixed on someone. She walked up shyly and asked, "Hey, Sumonda, you here?"
"My house is right here," she said. "But what brings you here?"
"I come here for tutoring."
"Oh, really? And your friend—does she just dance and write poetry all day?"
"No, she has a family event at home today."
"Do you study under Prabal Sir?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"Hmm, I used to study with him too. Also, our house is right next to his."
"Oh, I see."
They chatted for about 20 more minutes. But it wasn't like Amba was listening carefully to everything he said. Somehow, everything around her started to feel lovely. Even after getting scolded by her mom at home, she laughed and played around. Her mother was surprised by this behavior. She thought to herself, "When Ambika returns from the hostel, I'll have to tell her all of this."
"But oh—she'll only come during Durga Puja. That's so far away. I can't wait anymore."
"If only I could tell Ankita…"
Ah, blind trust. There's a saying: Better a known enemy than an unknown friend.
Amba perhaps didn't know that. So she trusted someone and shared everything—never imagining that same person could betray her.