India: The Legend of Aritra

The tuition finally wrapped up, and as Aritra stepped out of Ratan Sir's house with Deep and Arnab, he felt like a prisoner who had just been granted parole after hours of mental confinement. The cool evening breeze was a refreshing contrast to the stuffy classroom.

Rimi waved goodbye with her usual sweet smile. Aritra nodded, maintaining his casual indifference while silently reminding himself to not fall for the same trap twice. As soon as she was out of sight, Deep turned to him with a mischievous grin.

"So, lover boy, survived the battle?" Deep teased.

"Oh please," Aritra rolled his eyes. "She's more interested in Newton's laws than in me."

"Are you sure? I thought she was applying the law of attraction," Arnab chimed in with a dramatic wink.

They burst into laughter, and without missing a beat, Deep hopped onto his cycle.

"Race to the club room?" he challenged.

"Loser buys tea tomorrow," Arnab added, already mounting his cycle.

"You're on," Aritra grinned, tightening his backpack and pushing off with a burst of speed.

The narrow lanes of Dakshin Barasat became their racetrack. The dusty roads, dotted with potholes that looked like they were designed by nature to test cyclists, made the race even more thrilling. The faint orange glow from the streetlights cast long shadows, and the occasional barking of stray dogs added to the soundtrack of their adventure.

They dodged pedestrians, zoomed past slow-moving rickshaws, and narrowly avoided a cow that decided to sit right in the middle of the road like it owned the place.

"Watch out, speed racer!" Arnab yelled, laughing as Deep swerved dramatically to avoid the cow.

After a few breathless minutes, they skidded to a halt in front of their local club room, a small, dimly lit building that had seen better days but held a treasure trove of memories. The walls were adorned with faded posters of cricket legends and old political campaign slogans.

Inside, they found Akash, their old friend who had taken arts in Class 11. Despite the different academic paths, their bond remained unshaken.

"Look who decided to show up," Akash smirked, already setting up the carrom board.

"Well, we were busy expanding our brains while you were busy... what do arts students even do?" Arnab teased.

"We create masterpieces. Unlike you science nerds, who solve problems we never had," Akash shot back.

Laughter filled the room as they settled around the carrom board, flicking the striker with the precision of seasoned champions.

As the game heated up, so did the banter.

"So, Aritra," Deep grinned slyly, "how's your 'study partner' Rimi?"

Aritra groaned.

"Oh, shut up. At least I don't write poems for Swati."

Deep's ears turned pink, but he recovered quickly.

"Better than Arnab, who turns into a philosopher every time Priya walks by."

Arnab dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

"Priya is an inspiration, not a distraction."

Akash, not one to be left out, chuckled.

"Speaking of distractions, Deep, didn't you drop your lunchbox just to impress Sneha last week?"

The room erupted in laughter, with each friend taking turns teasing the other, their voices echoing with genuine joy.

By the time the wall clock showed 8:45 PM, they reluctantly packed up, the carrom coins scattered like memories of yet another perfect evening.

As they cycled back home under the starry sky, Aritra thought, Life is like a carrom game. Sometimes you miss, sometimes you score, but it's the people you play with that matter the most.