The Lost One: Story of the One who ends it all (Shiva the Destroyer Book 1)

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The Lost One: Story of the One who ends it all (Shiva the Destroyer Book 1) Page 6

by Aarohan Atwal


  "Nothing serious," "He asked me few questions"

  "Questions?"

  "Yes, he wanted to have a feedback of hostel facilities"

  I let a sigh of relief, no complaint from the juniors.

  "That's strange" I reply.

  "What's strange is, he asked me if I want to become a student warden"

  "Student warden! what the hell is that?"

  "Ahh, he told me he has come up with this new plan to involve students in the hostel management activities and so he wants a student to volunteer"

  "What did you say then?"

  "No! of-course."

  "No? Are you stupid or what, that was a golden oppurtunity," "This could have given you powers and a special status" "These things always come in handy time to time"

  Changing the topic he asks me, "What happened with Siddhant? I called him he was not at home"

  "He is still not at home!" I exclaim.

  "What happened at JJ's?" He asks.

  "Nothing, that place was abandoned" "Not a single soul was there"

  "Where did he go then?" He asks.

  "I have no clue" I reply.

  Chapter 7: An Escape

  The sleep sometimes overpowers my already lackluster will to study; table lamp running on the dimmed power in our colony (for there are people who leech illegally) makes for a perfect ambience. A mosquito buzzes past my face, How does it like to fly? With wings or a jetpack or maybe on just plain whims.

  I feel claustrophobic just by thought of going through the motions of the day - get up early, go to college, eat (the same food) before going to college (mother’s cooking is so repetitious that I can almost guess what she’s gonna cook), see through the classes, attend the labs, chase the lab rats (and measure them). I feel a surge of hatred-ness just by the thought of it, who wants to butter up those snobbish, self-centred, egomaniac old professors? I do, I admit, I have to, grades are scarce, and professors are sacred.

  I mean what is it? What is this, life, all about? Am I being captive here? It feels lot like being in a prison - I live in a confined state of my home, my mind, other’s beliefs (can do this, can’t do that), and I toil diligently (perspirating hours at college), and I am surrounded by phonies, they are everywhere. I want to be free

  - no full stops

  The only contrast there is between my life and a prison: I am not chained (physically). But my mind, my consciousness is chained. I want to be free

  Free-will (with double quotes gestured by fingers) they talk about, you can choose what you want to, you can be what you want to be and you can get whatever life you want. What if I choose not to choose, anything, nothing, just lie down in my bed in perpetual torpid motion. BS, pure BS free will is imho.

  But even if am allowed (or forced) to choose what would I have to be or do - I think a lot of my discontent is because I took, without knowing the truth, the blue pill. But that’s why I took it, to know the truth. What would you choose an ignorance bliss or an enlightened sadness?

  Dreams, I have dreams, not the fancy and moronic kinds like branching out (without knowing what, why, how) or being someone (I am happy in my shoes). I wanted to be a man of science (and my shoes says so too), I wanted to unravel the mystery of the universe, I still do, but after getting myself into this mess I ruined it, I spoiled one thing I had passion for. Now, I experiment in the confines of a computer simulation taking an imaginary space walk. What if I am a simulation myself in somebody’s experiment? I, a highly intelligent bio-robot that some aliens (god included) left here on earth. I feel trapped, it’s a prison I shout, I run, take me with you. It’s so serious that it is almost funny.

  The mosquito completes its flight path as it rests etched on the line of fate between the palms of my hands; the nap works wonder I think, in my half slumber every word I read goes directly to my subconscious and which my conscious mind automatically summons as I hold the pen over an examination sheet. I will get up early in the morning and study I rationalize, I switch-off the lamp, and pull the sheet upto my chin. The bed crackles under my weight as I toss on my side.

  I want to be free, free without a full stop

  ~’~’~

  Spirited with a new zest to learn, I am early to the college today. After yesterday’s episode, I am assuming, the torturing humanities would be second lecture for now. When I enter, there are still ten minutes to the first lecture, class room is abuzz with noise of a new day, people are upto something, or maybe it's me, imagining things, I have never been in time to see what happens before the day starts. There is a small huddle around Vairagi's desk, Vairagi Chand, the most spirited, the most enthusiastic person in our class. Playing pranks and performing practical jokes on people are his favorite past-time. And despite that he is never annoying, he knows his limits, he knows people's limit, he knows how much each of us can be pushed, and he exploits that.

  As I draw closer by pushing off few shoulders from the huddle, I see Vairagi sitting on the table, with his feet resting on the bench, he is holding some sort of a card - a wedding card?“What is that?” I enquire. Everyone ignores, they are just too engrossed.

  “Who's getting married? I ask further. No replies. And so, I reach for the card and grab it with a sudden pull. Vairagi watches me intently. My eyes wander as I open it, it says Chewy weds Shipra, venue at Blessing Farms, 1st April.

  “That’s quite far, the date” I exclaim.

  “When did it happen?” I question, Vairagi just smiles. Everyone else is in just plain awe, awe of Vairagi.

  “Wait a minute!” I say “Something doesn't look right.”

  Obviously this is a fake. I mean look at the date - 1st April. People marrying on April Fool, perhaps it is a good idea, you can look back after years and always say – it was foolish thing to do.

  If there has to be a masterpiece created by God, it must be Vairagi - tall, broad shoulder, athletic build, wide grin, speaks firmly, and walks as if he knows where he is going and what he is doing.

  I settle down on the front seat, room is packed, front row is filled up. There’s a movement at the door, I gather, the door swing opens and our favorite Miss Radhika enters, its humanities back on first. I am frozen with horror. Yesterday only she informed us that Mr. Bahuguna (CP) and she exchanged their classes, then how can she be back at first lecture again? She bubbles with excitement on seeing so many people in the class, probably a record for her. Not for a minute she doubts, the real reason behind this sudden interest. So, chripingly, she declares, without disclosing much, and leaving every bit to our imagination.

  “Alright! everyone. We’ll do something interesting today“

  ‘Define interesting -‘ ‘in the field of humanities’

  The woman certainly knows how to build up anticipation, there are murmurs in the room about what she’s upto.

  “Okay okay silence class” “Please queue up all of you. We are going out.” We gather outside the class like bunch of preschoolers going to the playroom. She takes us through the zigzag steps to the second floor and to the newly built sections of the college we have never come before. Part of the second floor is still under construction, not fully done. There's whole new wing coming up, there are speculations that it is the M. Tech, they are about to start, so that people will start up with B.Tech, and would continue with M.Tech and finally would end up being lecturers, the whole thing looks like a machinery to churn out teachers and feed them to our great education system.

  An education system which looks so pointless and dull - first year of engineering is wasted in studying non-specialization subjects, people coming to the class rooms are given importance than the people who actually understand things, and grades are revered over the application of concepts.

  She adds removing the veil of secrecy ‘it’s my pet project’, I bet this is the new projection room we are going, I have heard things about it. I tell Surili who's walking next to me:

  “I think, she's taking us to the new projection room”

  Sur
ili replies in her cracked voice, after thinking for a moment, her replies are often calculated and well thought of, “I wish they would play 'Harry met Sally', it’s my favorite film.”

  “What? “ I said, immediately regretting my attempt to continue conversation with her.

  “You haven’t seen the movie?”

  I twist my head in a negation.

  “It’s about a girl and a guy -”

  “That’s new! A movie about a girl and a guy!” I murmur under my breath.”Haven’t seen such a thing before”

  “What?” She asks. “Anyway, it’s about a guy and a guy and who keep on banging with each other -” She continues. I raise my eyebrow.

  ”I mean they keep bumping -”, embarrassed, she quickly corrects herself, realizing her mistake. “With each other and finally fall in love” Pause. Her eyes roll in the socket.

  “Isn’t it so beautiful and romantic?” She adds to her cacophony.

  'You know what is beautiful? You keeping your trap shut is beautiful.'

  Her talk puts me in a waking slumber, my thoughts wander to the marsh lands of Transylvania, I see count Dracula summoning his subject. One human to be sent to my castle every day, or you all die. Take her Mr. Dracula - I am done with her.

  “Oh!” everyone sighs in a collective disappointment. I thank them for jerking me out of my sleep and ending her auditory torture. I see Radhika has lead us to a big room, it's more of a hall. We step in following her footsteps. A number of tables are arranged in parallel fashion, and on the tables a small machine is kept. This is a phonetics lab and the machine is an audio player and recorder.

  I find Siddhant already sitting on one of the desks, he looks perfectly alright, in-fact he is all smiling, as if mocking us. Raul and I grab a seat beside him, ready to question him, but miss radhika notices and shouts, "Only two people at one desk"

  I look around to find a place where I can overhear them, a chair is available at the next table, but the problem is the other one is occupied by Surili Daga, I decide to take my chances.

  "What happened? Where were you yesterday" Raul asks.

  "I went to my cousin's place" "What?"

  "Yes, why what happened?"

  "Aaron went to JJ's to find you" He looks at Raul surprised. "But why?" He shrugs.

  "Because you dropped a message to DK" "I didnot, why would I do that?"

  "Why did you skip the college?"

  "I was at my cousin in ranipohkri, he called me that I should come over urgently, and without telling anyone" Ranipokhri is a place some 25 odd kms away from Sambhala.

  "What happened then?"

  "Nothing serious, it was just one of his jokes" "When I reached there he told me, he didn't call"

  "What?"

  Let me put it all together whatever I have understood so far -

  Siddhant's cousin prank calls him, Dhaval gets a prank message too, Dean calls Raul for nothing, I leave college early and get involved in someone else's fight. It just doesn't make any sense, or am I missing something? Is someone playing with us?

  ~’~’~’

  Lunch at the cafeteria is stale as usual and fails to hold any interest, eating for me has become more of a process than a sensory indulgence. And if you complain to the guy who runs the canteen, he gives you the same goddamn answer that he has been giving for the last three years:

  “Do you know how much I am paid for this damn contract?” “I can barely survive, that’s how much it is” “What will you eat if I go out of business?“

  “Stuff up! You’ll not even get this otherwise” “You” he says referring to the college body. “You talk to the management” “And if they agree to pay me more “I’ll change the whole god-damn menu” “I swear”

  You have to live with it, life is all about making compromises. We have something called canteen-committee as well, but it excels at doing nothing. The job of canteen-committee is a highly sought after job on the campus, the benefits extends manifold - they get ‘special’ food and ‘samples’ from the caterer, and are treated like VIPs with privileged seating on the big round table of the first floor hall, cloth napkins, beautiful steel cutlery are among other novelty enjoyed by the members.

  After the lunch we walk in a silent agreement to the smoking joint. This is a place where people relax, and people network, professors, lecturers, lab assistants all kind of people come here, basically, anyone who can smoke and anyone who can stand the smoke. Raul and Siddhant are non-smoker types but they still tag along to keep me company. I am not a regular smoker myself, just sometimes when the going gets tough, I never bring my own cigarette, it makes you habitual. I see Diwedi sir smoking impatiently at one end, probably thinking over some math problem that one of his smart wicked students might have brought up to test his skills.

  “Diwedi sir”, I call.

  “Yes?” he says absentmindedly, normally he’s a cheerful person to talk to but not when he’s into deep thoughts. Anyway, I know he always keeps a pack.

  “Lend me one sir”, I ask, directly. Such is the degree of student-teacher relationship here in our college. He draws out an ultra mild from his pack and hands me over. 'So today is an ultra-mild day' I mumble, I remind myself, ‘I am not much of a smoker, I do it sometime only when I feel a strong urge for it.’

  “Which one is that?” Raul points to a cigarette completely black in color. “Orient black!” I exclaim, it’s my personal favorite, extremely hard to get, for free.

  “They say you don’t smoke the Orient, the Orient smokes you” I add. “This is how strong it is, it smokes the hell out of your lungs”

  “What happened to you? You didn’t tell us.” Siddhant probes about my injuries, he points toward my upper lip which bears a visible cut, a reminisce of yesterday’s fight.

  “Your chin looks badly swollen“. Raul adds.

  “This?” I say, pointing to my chin. “What about it? This has always been like this.”

  “Bigger the better” Raul adds.

  “Don’t kid around with us you surely look messed-up.” Siddhant says looking upto Raul.

  “Yeah what happened? Tell us” Raul says.

  “You were fine yesterday till you left and now you turn up today looking off-color, bruised up. Something did happen.“

  “Yes” I begin to tell him the whole story “You know yesterday I left early, during the lunch.” “On my way I saw a bunch of people, second year-ers I think, beating a what looked like a fresher” “There were six of them, so I stopped over, jumped in and tried to break the fight...”

  Raul’s jaw drops in utter amazement, as he listens. Siddhant too looks astonished, his eyes big like that of a wild deer frozen under a headlight.

  Why do I feel I have seen those goons, and specially that moustacher? Where, I am not able to place it. I take a long puff, and inhale as much as I could, I see a cloud gathering as I puff out, the black clouds devour the white one, a storm is coming, no umbrella can protect you -

  ~’~’~

  It was not something that happened that particular night but it was culmination of all the nights that I had lived in guilt and remorse. For weeks sleep eluded me, I hardly could shut eye since Ojas died.

  And in one of those nights that I couldn’t sleep, I silently slid out of my blanket. I walked around quietly, the house was in deep sleep. Without any second thought, or even without any thought at all I walked, I walked in a walking daze. I picked up the key to the front door from where it's usually kept, the dining table in the hall. I tip toed my way through the gallery to the exit door, I slid the key and very carefully unlocked the door knob.

  The night was cold and dark, a small crescent moon hung on the night sky; the cool air ran a chill inside me, I was not scared at all, only little apprehensive of the time to come. My head had never been so clear about anything in life than it was at that moment. I stopped at the front gate to turn around and see if anybody was coming after me. But there was no one, only darkness, and the absolute silence, my own shadow b
etrayed me, for a moment I thought I should go back and cuddle in the warmth of my bed. I could see this through, time is a great healer, eventually memories would fade away, and the restlessness would go.

  But, I guess at that moment all my mind could conjure was an escape, but to where? my heart sought freedom, to a place nobody knew me, to a place where I could start once again. I pulled myself together and climbed over the big white metallic gate and jumped over to the other side. I was in the world.

  Very soon I learnt the world on the other side was not what it is often made to look like. With no money, and nowhere to sleep I was out on the streets on the mercy of the good men, and unfortunately there is no such thing like good people, only the greed exists, even the one who wanna help you have agendas of their own. I travelled for days and days, I walked, I hitchhiked with strangers; I did not know where I was going or how long I will be travelling or not even how long I had been gone. I had lost track of time and place, nothing mattered, all I wanted was to get away as far as possible, but I was not even sure about that either, I might have been going in circles for all I knew. With nothing to do, day seemed longer and longer, and with no one to talk to nights felt lonelier and lonelier. I slept at bus stands and railway stations, they were the best places to spend night, they were safe, and there was food. I sometime stole from the stalls or sometimes snatched it from a passenger of a moving train. In short, I somehow lived.

  "Come with me" said a strange voice coming from behind me, he took me in. The boy lived alone, Ranagat station was his home, never beg he said, never ask for mercy, he told me. Keep your head high no matter what and you will find your way somehow. He didn't talk about himself much but I told him everything about me, my family and why I ran away. I stuck with him and followed what he told me, never trust anyone, you come alone, you go alone, and you have to learn to be alone. We picked what people discarded, we ate what people left, and we slept empty stomach when we couldn't find, never beg he told me. I learned to polish shoes, and he showed me how to clean the carriages, we delivered tea and made our margins, we towed luggage and made money.

 

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