July 9, 2008 (Wednesday, 4:45 PM)
The scorching afternoon sun was beginning to mellow as Aritra stood by the window, staring at the dusty roads of Dakshin Barasat. The clock on the wall ticked mockingly at him: 4:45 PM.
Time to face Anuj Sir again, he sighed, dragging himself to change into a fresh t-shirt and jeans, trading his school uniform for something more breathable. He packed his chemistry notebook, a few pens (half of which barely worked), and his water bottle, ready for the next academic battle.
In the kitchen, Ma was preparing tea. She glanced at him with her signature 'Did you forget something?' look.
"You're leaving without eating anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow sharper than any blade.
Aritra groaned but grabbed a banana and stuffed it into his bag.
"I'll eat on the way, Ma. I'm late!"
By 5:00 PM, he hopped onto his slightly rusty cycle, its squeaky brakes announcing his departure like a dramatic farewell song. The familiar roads greeted him with their usual chaos: vegetable vendors shouting deals, rickshaws fighting for dominance, and stray dogs lounging like kings.
Pedaling through the bustling market, Aritra spotted his friends, Deep, Arnab, and Rimi, waiting near the old tea stall—their unofficial pre-tuition pit stop.
"Look who's late again," Arnab teased as Aritra pulled up.
"I was busy mentally preparing for Anuj Sir's rapid-fire questions," Aritra replied, dramatically wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead.
"Or maybe just mentally battling your laziness," Rimi added with a smirk.
They exchanged laughs, sipping on quick cups of tea that were probably more sugar than actual tea.
"So, Aritra," Rimi continued, raising an eyebrow, "heard you rocked the class with your Shakespearean chemistry analogies yesterday?"
"Of course," Aritra replied with mock arrogance. "I'm thinking of switching to stand-up comedy if this whole 'studying' thing doesn't work out."
At 5:20 PM, they pedaled together toward Anuj Sir's place. The narrow lanes twisted like a maze, with occasional potholes that served as surprise speed breakers. They dodged kids playing cricket, grumpy cows who refused to move, and the infamous 'Roadside Uncle' who always shouted at them for riding too fast.
"Why does he care if we're cycling fast? It's not like we're driving Formula 1 cars," Deep muttered.
"Maybe he's just jealous of our speed," Aritra quipped, making them burst into laughter.
Rimi rolled her eyes. "Boys and their imaginary racing leagues."
By 5:28 PM, they reached the small, two-story house where Anuj Sir conducted his classes. The faint smell of chalk dust and strong tea lingered in the air—the universal scent of every tuition center.
The tuition room was modest: rows of wooden benches, a large whiteboard, and a dusty ceiling fan that sounded like it was reciting ancient curses. Aritra took his usual spot beside Deep, with Rimi and Arnab nearby. Their notebooks were open, but their minds already planning silent jokes.
"Ready to witness the magic of covalent bonds?" Arnab whispered.
"I'd rather bond with my bed," Aritra replied.
Rimi smirked, "Well, if bonding with your bed improves your grades, you might be on to something."
At exactly 5:30 PM, Anuj Sir entered the room. His sharp gaze scanned the class, silencing even the whispers of the ceiling fan.
"Good evening, class," he greeted, his voice deep and authoritative.
"Good evening, Sir," the class echoed in unison, like a well-rehearsed choir.
Without wasting a second, he picked up the marker, turning toward the slightly stained whiteboard.
"Today, we will continue with Chemical Bonding, focusing on Covalent Bonds and their properties," he announced, writing the topic in large, bold letters.
Aritra sighed, whispering to Deep, "Ah yes, bonding… the thing that happens between atoms but not between me and my textbooks."
Deep chuckled, earning them both a sharp glance from Anuj Sir, who had an uncanny ability to detect even the faintest whispers in the room.
Rimi leaned in, whispering, "Maybe if you bonded with your textbook, you wouldn't need to improvise in class."
"Now, hybridization refers to the mixing of atomic orbitals to form new hybrid orbitals," Anuj Sir explained, drawing overlapping circles and arrows on the whiteboard with the enthusiasm of a man sketching his life's magnum opus.
"Aritra," he suddenly called out, "explain sp3 hybridization."
Aritra stood up dramatically, like an actor taking center stage.
"Sir, sp3 hybridization is when one s orbital and three p orbitals get together and say, 'Let's form a band,' and boom! You get a tetrahedral arrangement."
The class erupted in laughter.
Anuj Sir pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn't hide the faint smile creeping onto his face.
"Sit down, Mr. Rockstar. Now explain it properly."
Aritra rattled off the correct answer, earning a nod of approval.
Rimi whispered, "Wow, look at you, balancing comedy and chemistry."
At exactly 8:30 PM, class finally ended. Students packed up their bags with the urgency of escaping prisoners.
As they walked out, Rimi nudged Aritra.
"You know, for someone who claims to hate chemistry, you sure make it entertaining."
"That's my secret," Aritra replied with a wink. "I confuse the subject so much that it forgets to confuse me."
The cool night air was refreshing as Aritra pedaled home, the stars blinking lazily above. The streets had quieted, with only the occasional distant bark of a dog or the flicker of a tea stall still open.
As he rode, Aritra reflected on the day.
Chemical bonds may be complex, but nothing beats the connections we make through laughter.
Reaching home, he was greeted by Ma's warm smile and the comforting aroma of dinner, the perfect end to a day packed with equations, laughter, and survival.