Punch

It was some three years ago. I was a young man of 20 back then. I barely lived through twenty. Want to know why? Go on, read the rest, you'll find out.

***

Hello, I'm Amar. And though my name means ' immortal ', I was hardly able to live through these last two years of my life. I just couldn't. The pain. The guilt. My troubled conscience. I was hardly able to survive. I hid from my own self in shame. When I went to sleep, the only thing I could see was that night, and my tiredness and sleep flew away. No sweet memories - only guilt-ridden ones whenever I thought of my past. When I ate, I remembered the lavish spread that night, and I lost my appetite. When I drank, I remembered the drinks that were kept there, though I never really touched them, and my throat went dry. Even as I breathed, I remembered his deo - the one he had bought for his 'special night', and I felt like I was choking. My heart contracted in pain every time I relived the night. And I couldn't forget it. My brain was filled with clouds. I was hardly able to think rationally. All I could remember, all I could think of, was that night. And I would moan in pain.The pain in my heart. You don't know relief until you know trouble. I realized what was unrest then. Today, all I feel is relief. Sweet relief.

I should probably tell you about it. Well, here goes.

***

It was a Saturday night. Back then, I worked in a reputed cyber - security company. Big income. Good friends. Awesome life. Ah, if only, if only, I had not gone to the party that night, maybe I would've been spared the pain.

We had been invited to a hotel. A few of my friends had suddenly decided that they were in desperate need of a party (or rather, a few glasses of freedom and wisdom), and they had insisted to drag me along. I was not interested in either freedom, or wisdom, or having the skills of a pro dancer, but I did want to see what a real party looked like (believe me, I've never attended a party like the one my friends were planning before).

It was 12 something into the night, when Zeeshaan, a good friend of mine, strode over to me angrily. I was a bit alarmed to see his face filled with fury. Why, everything had been going on fine until then. "Err... Hey Zeeshaan! Um ... Everything cool with you?" Yes, I was stammering, but then, you should've seen the look in his face. He started to sway. "Cool with me? Cool with me?" He looked like he was about to fall.

"Hey, let me help you to a chair," I offered, stretching my hand out to him to help him to a seat. "Huh!!" He exclaimed, knocking my hand off. He looked really pissed off. Had he drunk too much? Well, of course he had, but still. It was not like him to look so angry with me. His face was contracted with anger, his eyes narrowed, his hands curled into fists. He was panting. I couldn't imagine what had happened so suddenly to make him look so pissed. A joke? I had no idea. But the, why else would he come and start blowing his top off on me?

"You dare to even look me in the eyes after what you have done?" I didn't have to figure out myself what I had done. He told me. He was on a roll now. "You were the one who told Sir that I was searching for another job, that I had given an interview for a new one already, and that I was going to leave someday without telling him that I was about to leave, weren't you? You were the one who told Larry that I don't want to be roomies with him anymore, and that I had found a third person in my life, and that he was no longer needed? The one who told Saira that I didn't like her, that I had lost interest? JERK!!" Unbelievably, he raised his hand and slapped me. My hand went up to my stinging cheek. I stared up at him. I tried to bring myself in control.

"Wh - who told you all this?"

"Zif you care!" He was red. So was I.

"You do realise that someone is trying to play a dirty joke on you, and you are falling for it? Would you care enough to at least tell me who gave you all these lies about me?" But he was out of control now. He couldn't listen. He wasn't really seeing anything. His face was beaded with sweat, and he was pale. He pushed me. I did the same, but less harshly. "Dude..." No, he wasn't listening. Not at all. His eyes were unfocused and he was shaking his head. No way he could hear me. He kicked me. That was it. The guy couldn't drink to his heart's fill and then come and start hitting me. I lost it. Everybody else was away on the dance floor. I was the only one not drunk. No waiter was was in sight. I still wish that someone had been there to stop us. Nobody was there to keep us in control now. We weren't going to be stopped.

"Who do you think you're touching, punk?!" I punched him on the shoulder. This time, he actually came to bite me. You can't blame me wholly for losing myself then. He very nearly did bite me, right on the shoulder. I punched him in the face. He staggered back, turning a full 360 degrees. His head fell back. His face looked pale. He fell down. I hadn't caused any real harm to his face - after all, I wasn't the drunk one. But he fell. I instantly dived after him. "Zee? Zee!" He didn't respond. I turned his face around to see him properly. His eyes were blank, staring. His face was white, and his breathing laboured. I felt a stab of fear in my heart. "ZEE!!" I was really worried now. I hurried him to a hospital. By the time I reached it, his face had lost all it's colour. The same face, which about fifteen minutes ago, had been red with blood. His breathing had nearly stopped, and his body was slowly loosening.

The wait at the hospital was long and painful. I wondered what my friends were doing, if they'd even noticed our absence. Finally, the medical staff came out. They told me he was no more. Dead, in a simpler, more dreadful word. I couldn't believe it. They were about to tell me something else, but I was not one for rational thinking anymore. I excused myself from the hospital. On my way back, I decided to go to the capital early. I was applying for a job there, and I decided to go as fast as I could. I know, I shouldn't have made such a hasty decision - but then, have you ever punched someone in the face and then watched them die before your eyes? I was quite sure I was the one who had killed him. I still didn't know who had told him so many lies about me in the first place, but I decided I didn't care. Not anymore. I just needed to leave now.

***

Fast forward a few years, I was living in excruciating agony. I had modified my memory to make the incident look even more like I was the one who had - I can still hardly say it, even now, after everything has been cleared up - murdered him. I hated myself. I loathed my actions. I was working in intelligence for the army, but that was little solace to me. I was serving my country ... But I had killed one of it's people too. How cruel, that when we need to modify our memories to give us peace and solace, it just magnifies our faults - the mistakes we had made, the crimes we had committed.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I had decided that I would now face my past. I couldn't live like this. I wasn't living like this. I was not talking to my old friends. I was avoiding their calls, messages - anything they did to contact me.I was ashamed and troubled. I was going insane. I decided to go back and face whatever was in store for me.

I set off. Just suddenly, one Friday, I set off. I didn't take any luggage with me. I was not going there to celebrate a holiday. I was there for a faceoff. A face off with my past.

Back in my hometown, I spotted my old friends. They were not still living here, but I had chosen a special day to come back. Today was Dusshera, an auspicious day for Hindus. A long story, involving a man with a monkey army who came to free his wife from the clutches of an evil king, and was victorious. Today, plays were enacted in our hometown, and we burned down a large puppet of the villain. Also the day I ... He was killed. So, anyway, the people who lived here at sometime and had moved away, usually came back to celebrate the festival. My friends had, too.

I went to them (they'd already converged and started talking), with my head bent in shame. I was about to tell them what I had done, and was going to ask for forgiveness, though I didn't think they'd ever forgive me.

"Amar!" Almost all of them cried out my name simultaneously. They ran to me. "Dude, no talk for days!" She was grinning widely. "Where have you been? Busy with your job? Well, you could've at least picked up our calls!" It was Saira. Remember, Zee's girlfriend? Saira turned serious. "We haven't been able to contact you since the day he was killed." Sorrow crept into her eyes. I felt guiltier than ever.

You remember I told you at the beginning that Zeeshaan had applied a lot of deo that night because it was his 'special night'? Well, it was because he was about to propose to Saira. I don't know how he planned to do that after he was drunk and hardly able to stand straight, let alone kneel on one knee, but we all knew he was going to do it. If only the twist of events hadn't occured, Zeeshaan and Saira would've been a happily married couple today. I didn't want to fathom how much pain Saira would've got when she got news that the same night Zeeshaan was about to propose her, he left the world. It would've pained me even more to see her at the cremation grounds. It was better that I had left.

Just as I got this thought, I felt even more ashamed. I was such a coward, I couldn't even face the consequences of what I had done.

As I was dissolved in this mental machosism session, Larry, who is... Was Zee's best friend, said, "Dude, you never came to find back to find out who killed him!" My heart skipped a beat. I looked up in surprise. Larry nodded. "Yup, it was..." He looked around at everyone darkly to create a special effect. Seriously, did he have to do that? I was curious. If they already knew who was Zee's killer, why didn't they just slap me - or rather, punch me, just as I had punched him - and be done with it? "Swarowsky". My head was started feeling. Swarowsky? That was Zeeshaan's arch - enemy. They hated each other. It started from a job interview, and ended in Robin Swarowsky swearing that he would kill Zeeshaan one day. Zeeshaan always excelled in everything he did, and it was easy for his competitor to get overshadowed by him. Swarowsky hated it.

"I know ... It's unbelievable - but Swarowsky was there that night! He poisoned Zeeshaan's drink, and by the time he offered the drink to him, Zeeshaan was already drunk. He didn't realize it was his arch - enemy. He took the drink. Swarowsky ran away. And Zeeshaan..." Maria's face fell.

"Wait ... You mean Zeeshaan didn't die because of wounds from a fight?" Yes, I had amplified the thing so much in my mind, I now believed what me and Zeeshaan had enacted there, that night, was nothing short of a thriller hollywood movie's action sequence.

They stared at me. "Why... No? Why do you ask?" I grinned. "You mean it, don't you?" They stared at me some more. I didn't care. It was as if I was on cloud nine."Go on tell me. Zeeshaan was not injured at all, was he?"

"Dude, I think you're losing it." This was Maina, the only tomboy of our group. "There was no wrestler's match going on there. You heard Larry didn't you? He was poisoned. " She looked at me suspiciously. "And are you drunk?" She added the last part because my face, which a moment ago had been hanging like it wanted nothing more thank to collide and stick to the ground, now had a huge grin on it. "I don't drink, girl. And I think it's time for the show." I took Larry's and Saira's hand, and had just started to drag them away, when Saira said, "I am Larry's wife." I looked at her, surprised. Then I turned to Larry. "Dude, it took time, but we got over it. We sent you a virtual greeting card with a very well thought-out and thought through and through out message about it, but you were completely cut - off. Where were you?" He started to frown.

"I...I was busy," I mumbled, and grinned. "Hey, guys, it's a happy occasion, why don't you show me your teeth and let's just celebrate?" They laughed. I took their hands again and skipped away with them. I usually feel annoyed with people who skip too often - But hey, I had just discovered that I hadn't commited a crime I believed I had! I was happy!

***

So there you go, that's my story. As I said before ... You don't know relief until you feel the pain. This time, I felt the relief. But seriously, you know what's better? I suggest you never feel the pain. Keep a control on your anger. Maybe you'll see later that the argument was of no significance at all, yet you had felt it really important when you were having it.

Anger is bad. It's evil. It makes you act in ways that you never would behave in, if you were calm and in your right mind. Most issues can be resolved peacefully, and the rest can't be resolved at all. But anger is not the answer. Nor is a fight. It never will be. So, you know what? When you feel angry, sit and count till ten. Walk away quietly when you're done. The person who had done the bad thing will feel bad and come to you later, or you could just break relationships with them. But why trouble your own mind and conscience by doing something harsh and then repenting for it?

***

I hope I have influenced you enough with my story to at least make you consider performing anti - harshness activities when you're feeling angry. Maybe taking a few deep breaths or something. Why, that's the point of the story! To show you what a moment of anger can do to your life, and how peace can save the day. What do you think?