Legs When Walking (Book 3)Chapter 1: Smiles No One Understands
758 Words
Legs When Walking (Book 3)
Chapter 1: Smiles No One Understands
“When we walk, sometimes we think about someone special… and smile meaningfully to ourselves. The world may think we are mad—but some emotions are too deep to explain.”
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The streets of Kolkata were alive, as always—honking taxis, tram bells ringing in lazy defiance of time, and crowds flowing like restless rivers. Yet amidst all that chaos, one man walked as if he belonged to a quieter world.
Bhabotosh Chakraborty walked alone.
Not hurried. Not lost.
Just… walking.
His steps were steady, almost rhythmic, like he carried music inside him. And then, without warning, he smiled.
A soft, private smile.
A passerby glanced at him, whispering to a companion, “Pagol naki?” (Is he mad?)
Bhabotosh heard it.
He didn’t care.
Because in that moment, he wasn’t on a crowded street. He was somewhere else—somewhere softer. Somewhere where laughter echoed gently and eyes spoke more than words ever could.
He was thinking of her.
And not just one.
That was the problem.
---
“Oi! You’re smiling like a criminal hiding something.”
The voice snapped him back.
Makim leaned casually against a tea stall, arms crossed, eyes sharp with mischief and suspicion. He had the kind of presence that made people uneasy without knowing why. A dangerous man, people said. And they weren’t wrong.
Bhabotosh exhaled. “You always appear out of nowhere?”
Makim smirked. “Only when things start getting interesting.”
“Nothing is interesting.”
“You. Smiling alone. In public. That’s very interesting.”
Bhabotosh shook his head, trying to brush it off, but Makim wasn’t someone who let things go easily.
“Who is it?” Makim pressed.
Silence.
Then—
“I don’t know.”
Makim raised an eyebrow. “That’s worse.”
---
Because it was worse.
Bhabotosh wasn’t confused about love.
He had fought for it. Nearly lost everything for it. Built a life out of it.
But now… something had shifted.
There was Putha—his strength, his home, the woman whose presence made everything else feel steady.
And yet—
There was another presence too.
Not fully visible.
Not fully understood.
But real.
---
Across the city, under the dim glow of a flickering streetlight, Trinetra stood watching the same road Bhabotosh had just walked.
Her expression was unreadable.
Cold, yet aching.
Strong, yet fractured.
She had seen him smile.
And it had done something to her.
Something dangerous.
“Still the same,” she whispered.
Her fingers tightened around her phone. A message blinked on the screen:
“Target confirmed. Awaiting your move.”
Trinetra didn’t reply.
Not yet.
Because this wasn’t just a mission.
This was personal.
---
Back at home, the warmth of family life wrapped around Bhabotosh like a familiar embrace.
Laughter echoed through the rooms.
Little Aria’s tiny footsteps—unstable but determined—filled the space with joy.
And Putha…
She stood by the window, watching him.
She noticed it immediately.
That smile.
Not the one he gave her.
Not the one he gave their child.
This one was different.
Quieter.
Distant.
And that scared her more than anything else ever had.
“Bhabotosh,” she called softly.
He turned. “Hmm?”
“Where do you go… when you walk like that?”
He froze.
Just for a second.
But she saw it.
And in that second, something unspoken passed between them.
Something fragile.
Something dangerous.
---
Later that night, the city fell into its usual restless silence.
Makim sat in a dimly lit room, flipping a knife between his fingers, eyes focused on nothing and everything at once.
“Trinetra is back,” someone said from the shadows.
Makim didn’t look up. “I know.”
“She’s watching him.”
A pause.
Then finally—
Makim smiled.
Not a kind smile.
Not even a sane one.
“A love-hate story,” he murmured. “Those are the ones that burn the longest.”
---
And somewhere in the city…
Bhabotosh walked again.
Alone.
Thinking.
Smiling.
Unaware that every step he took was leading him into something far more dangerous than anything he had faced before.
Because this time—
It wasn’t just about love.
It was about obsession.
Memory.
And the kind of connection that refuses to die…
Even when it should have.
---
Some smiles are misunderstood.
Some walks lead back to the past.
And some people…
Never really leave your heart.
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To be continued…
- Writer
