Legs When Walking (Book 3)Chapter 3: The Smile We Leave Behind
913 Words
Legs When Walking (Book 3)
Chapter 3: The Smile We Leave Behind
“Sometimes, our answer brings a smile to someone else’s face…
And in that moment, we don’t just exist—we become a memory they carry forever.”
---
The city had changed again.
Or maybe—
It was Bhabotosh Chakraborty who was beginning to see it differently.
He walked the same streets, but this time, there was no urgency to escape into his thoughts. After yesterday’s interruption, something inside him had shifted.
Not broken.
Not healed.
Just… aware.
---
Near a quiet tea stall, a young boy struggled to balance a tray of clay cups. His small hands trembled, eyes darting nervously at impatient customers.
“Dada, taratari!” someone shouted.
The boy nodded quickly, almost dropping everything in the process.
Bhabotosh stopped.
Watched.
And without thinking, stepped forward.
“Here,” he said gently, taking the tray for a moment and steadying it. “Slow down. Nobody’s running away.”
The boy looked up, surprised. “Dada… I’ll get scolded.”
“Maybe,” Bhabotosh smiled faintly, “but at least you won’t drop everything.”
A pause.
Then the boy laughed.
A small, genuine laugh.
---
“Why are you smiling now?” the boy asked innocently.
The question again.
But this time—
It didn’t break anything.
---
Bhabotosh crouched slightly, meeting his eyes.
“Because,” he said calmly, “sometimes helping someone feels… nice.”
The boy tilted his head. “That’s it?”
“That’s enough.”
For a second, the boy simply stared at him.
And then—
He smiled wider.
Not confused.
Not curious.
Just… happy.
---
“Then I’ll smile like that too,” the boy said.
And just like that—
Something returned.
---
Bhabotosh stood still after the boy ran off, watching him disappear into the crowd.
And slowly…
That same quiet smile came back.
But it was different now.
It wasn’t distant.
It wasn’t lost in confusion.
It was present.
Alive.
---
From across the street, unseen eyes observed everything.
Trinetra.
Her expression shifted—not dramatically, but enough to reveal something unexpected.
“He’s adapting,” she murmured.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
He was supposed to feel lost.
Disconnected.
Not… grounded.
---
Back in his dimly lit space, Makim listened again—another recording, another moment captured.
This time, the boy’s laughter echoed faintly.
Makim didn’t smile.
He frowned.
“Interesting,” he muttered.
“He’s learning.”
The man beside him shifted uneasily. “Isn’t that… good?”
Makim’s eyes snapped toward him.
“Good?” he repeated.
Then leaned forward slightly.
“People like him don’t become dangerous when they’re broken.”
A pause.
“They become dangerous when they understand themselves.”
---
At home, the atmosphere felt lighter.
Putha noticed it immediately.
“You’re smiling again,” she said softly.
Bhabotosh looked at her.
This time, there was no hesitation.
“No one interrupted?” she asked, half-teasing.
He shook his head. “Someone did.”
Her expression tightened slightly.
“And?”
“And I answered.”
---
Putha waited.
Something inside her braced for discomfort.
But instead—
“What did you say?” she asked.
Bhabotosh walked closer, his voice calm, steady.
“I said… sometimes it just feels good to be here. In the moment.”
---
Silence.
Then slowly—
Putha smiled.
A real one.
Not forced.
Not uncertain.
---
“That’s a good answer,” she said.
And in that moment—
He saw it.
That same effect.
The same thing that happened with the boy.
His answer had created a smile.
---
And suddenly, the tagline made sense—not as words, but as something real.
---
Later that night, as the city dimmed into quiet shadows, Bhabotosh walked again.
But this time—
He wasn’t searching for something.
He wasn’t escaping.
He was simply… walking.
---
A stranger crossed his path, an elderly man with tired eyes.
“You look peaceful,” the man said.
Bhabotosh paused.
A simple moment.
A simple choice.
---
“Maybe I am,” he replied.
The old man studied him for a second.
Then smiled.
“Hold on to that,” he said before walking away.
---
And just like that—
Another smile.
Another moment.
Another memory created.
---
From a rooftop nearby, Trinetra stood still, the city lights reflecting in her eyes.
For the first time—
She didn’t look in control.
“He’s leaving something behind,” she whispered.
Not physically.
Not visibly.
But emotionally.
In people.
In moments.
In memories.
---
Her phone buzzed again.
“Proceed now?”
She stared at the message.
Longer this time.
Then slowly typed—
“…Wait.”
---
Because something had changed.
And for the first time—
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to destroy it anymore.
---
Across the city, Makim closed his eyes, deep in thought.
“A man who becomes a memory…” he said quietly.
“…is harder to erase.”
---
Bhabotosh finally stopped under a dim streetlight.
He looked around.
At strangers.
At movement.
At life.
---
And then—
He smiled.
Not for someone.
Not because of someone.
But because he understood something simple…
And powerful.
---
We don’t always stay in people’s lives…
But sometimes, a single moment—
A single answer—
A single smile…
Is enough to live forever in their memory.
---
To be continued…
- Writer
