A Scar on the Soul

They had huddled together again just like yesterday, masking the presence of the one at the center. Whenever there is a crowd some sort of fun is happening and Vivek was not the kind to skip on little joy. His disgusted face, however, told a different story for the one hemmed in between was a helpless kid. He knew the kid. Was it his problem that he knew? Not like he went out to get acquainted. It just happened to be Vivek and the kid were together for a year, back in school days but that was a long time ago. Five years? No, it was six. Vivek observed through the corner of his eye, the bullies relishing the moment. Usual sight for him. “Just mind your business, Vivek,” he sighed quietly, tossed his bag and slid across the bench.

Though Vivek could not see he could hear. The pleading sobs. The quivering voice of the kid begging to be left alone. It was, as it had always been, a common sight. The kid would be rescued by a teacher or by some other adult, sometimes earlier, sometimes later. There was no need for action on his part. He’d rather revise yesterday’s lesson. Such a blatant lie for he checked his Insta almost immediately.

No new followers. It was only a matter of time before he gets landslide of followers. The upcoming photoshoot will leverage his game. He beamed at the thought. ‘Publicity, attention, and followers, the end of the contemporary era,’ he pondered. And the kid that gets bully… a little nobody with no presence need not a morsel of Vivek’s way of being and yet, it ticked him now as sobs translated into cries. “Where the hell is master?” he asked rather crudely to the boy in front of him.

“If you mean, the master should hurry up and save that sorry ass,” replied the boy, “I couldn’t agree less.”

“Well,” he glanced over and observed meekly. “It is getting out of hand.”

“Agreed. Any brilliant idea?”

“Stand up?” he hesitated. “Say – uhm, something.”

“After you.”

“Of course,” Vivek retorted and rolled his eyes. If only he had been brave as he’d portrayed on social media, then indeed. ‘Pathetic,’ he thought. ‘But really, not my problem. I got my things to look after and they will eventually lose interest in him and then, and then…’

And then, someone new would appear and the ordeal would persist.

Looking back at it, Vivek duly noted it, nothing had changed. What is it again? Mutation? A birth defect? He had long forgotten about the cause, however, the effect lingered before his eyes. A kid with, literally, no hair. Well, it was understood about head hair but eyebrows? How the hell it was even a possibility? Vivek had branded the kid, as all others had, an alien – a freak of nature. A healthy distance and no association seemed a safer bet, after all, you don’t want to be in the same boat with a queer fellow. He had intended to keep the tag intact but why the sudden pang of regret? This call to action and be a hero – a hero to whom? he wondered, to no concrete answer.

In the end, he feigned ignorance. ‘I’m no hero!’ he sank into the bench.

For three days Vivek saw and did nothing whatsoever but the call to action surged through his veins. There was an uncanny impulse to jump in the fire. He had thought the flames would douse eventually, however, they burned only brighter. Eyeing no way around, he punched in into the phone and spoke, “do you remember Abhinav – the weirdo?”

“Whaa… what’s gotten into you?” the voice on another end said.

“Answer the damn question, Shank.”

There was a brief sigh. “You mean, the Alin?”

“Yeah. The Alien. The Weirdo, whatever.”

“Of course, man. How can anyone ever forget him? Oddball, through and through. But, what’s this about, anyway?”

Vivek considered before uttering as if recalling some distinct memories. “We bothered him a lot, didn’t we? Calling him names and that sort of stuff. Pushed him too far once, should you recall it.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Shank said regretfully, “we were not innocent. There are incidences as I vividly remember, where we made him cry rivers. Such fools we were! It was fun back then, but now, I do feel we – err – might have crossed limits, especially with – well, you know…”

“Well,” Vivek sighed heavily. “It is happening all over again. Only this time, I’m on sidelines and can – argh – feel the pain. Perhaps, pain isn’t the right word here but you do get what I’m trying to say. It just feels bizarre. Standing there and seeing. Not like he is at fault. He got wind up in that, whatever his medical condition is called. And I’m thinking to -”

“Do something,” finished Shank. “Evening the odds. Good! I like this already. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s not even five days since the tuitions have begun. You can easily invade here. Get your admission today itself. After that, we shall see.”

“Oh? We are going to be heroes now?”

“Apparently, no. We were villains before and I like being a villain. We just need to divert attention from him. I got my photoshoot today. I’ll be done by late evening. See you at the usual. Bye.”

The plan was hatched and all Vivek required were few volunteers who were brave enough to indulge in the plan. He made a few phone calls one after the other and at least ten people agreed to hear him out. Should they all vote in favor of the plan, ten would be enough to make a difference. Nobody needed to be a hero, he had contemplated, everybody just needed to care an ounce and viola, the results might be stunning. He could make them see – the bullies and the fellow students – he reasoned with himself. And why not? He was an Insta influencer. Charm was his sword and words his armor. 

Perhaps, the results would not be stunning but a change would instill, enlightening a new path rather than this worn out and with a repetitive ending.

“Hell no!” cried Shank after hearing Vivek’s plan. “I will not. You simply ought to find a better one.”

“Let’s just assume this plan of yours works, I don’t think it would make any difference at all,” said a member.

“I believe it will,” another beamed. “I mean, from the last five days we are witnessing harassment, quite plainly it is. And of course, we lack firepower.” Eyeing boys furrowing their brows, he hurried, “no offense whatsoever. But seriously, I don’t feel we could trade blows for that matter. Here,” he rolled his sleeves and curled his arm, “look at these guns.”

Eyeing a flat landscape, Vivek said, “Point made, brother. Definitely.” He looked around in apprehension. Slowly but reluctantly he received despaired nods. Indeed, trading blows were out of the equation. Besides, it was a long time since Vivek had traded blows. He had lost the muscle memory.

“Argh,” gruntled Shank, pulling his face down with his palm. “Is there no other way?”

“Hide and do nothing,” suggested Vivek. “We’ve already done that. So…”

“I’m out of here,” a member proclaimed.

Two followed the suit to abandoned the party.

Seven watched their receding figures until they disappeared. There was an eerie silence. Shank performed a series of awkward voices to fill the gap but his tricks were not getting through.

“Look here, guys,” commanded Vivek after a minute had gone. “It’s not that you should, okay. Let’s get that thing straight. I called you simply because you are witnessing what is happening. If this is to go on, I fear –”

“We were the ones who had ticked Abhinav back then and drove him to an edge, didn’t we?” said Shank, wondering in the light of discovery.

“Who else comes in your mind lest us?” countered Vivek, sharply. And who indeed? He had been a bully for he had thought how cool it is to tick someone off, simply because people appreciated good laughs until the chaos was on others. His physique was an advantage even back then. Almost twice the size of his age group across length and breadth, Vivek stood a class apart. Naturally, people flocked towards him and he was unanimously appointed as an alpha. The attention that comes with it. Leading the pack into new horizons. The fear. Respect. Fame. How he had relished it!

Then came Abhinav. A frail bundle with a signboard, ‘feast upon me.’ How could not they? A timid kid with no hair. An alien, they had called him. He was perfect prey to rid boredom. Though diffident Abhinav seemed to be he endured every arrow shot at him. Wounded but not defeated. Tears would roll down his cheeks more often than not but he would weather every storm, something that pissed Vivek immensely. The kid proved to be cast-off steel. He just did not subjugate to Vivek’s will.

The shame had closely followed on Vivek’s heels.

For a fifteen-year-old, the difference was indistinguishable between the right and the wrong. There was a flicker of pain in his heart when on the surface, nothing had changed. He was simply diving deeper into an illusion of rage and hatred. Vengeance then, needed to be served and it did.

Never in his wildest dreams did Vivek had thought of his vengeance backfiring. Intending to dominate and subjugate Abhinav, he had set gears in motion. He had said, “A kid with not spine is challenging me. I ought to settle the score before I lose to him.”

Shank had appealed him to use reason but the sway of hate was firm. Involuntarily, Shank too was roped in and so had the other three.

The scar of the incident had etched deeper into Vivek’s soul, throbbing in him even today. Mayhap, it was this mark that had incited him to take action.

Vivek’s bully scheme had led a life to a brink. Well, almost on the brink. Had ever he even apologized? No, he could not. He did not know what sort of face he needed for the folly he had committed. He thought it best to renounce his dark side and sought novel ways to retain his followers and stick to being alpha.

“I still wonder, why Abhinav did not say anything?” Vivek said, more to himself.

“If he had,” added Shank, “we would have been doomed.” He heaved a sigh. “Do you remember what he had said when we went to see him in the hospital?”

“Not a word,” said Vivek. “Though, his eyes had said enough.”

“What’s going on here?” said someone after a brief period of confusion.

“Long story, bro,” answered Shank, wearily. “Just this, whatever had happened should not happen again. And for that –”

“We must act,” finished Vivek. “It is like history is repeating itself,” he added silently because the guy who was leading the bullies was a spitting image of Vivek’s past self. And Vivek knew perfectly well Abhinav would not go down, fight or no fight, he would hold his ground. For him, holding his ground was a victory and it was exactly what Vivek feared.

“Fuck it, man,” pestered Shank. “I’m in. Better to do something than having him sent to hospital again.”

Vivek and Shank started half an hour earlier for the class but ended up reaching ten minutes before the session because Shank simply cannot follow the prescribed time. Looking at the gravity of the situation and Shank’s commitment yesterday, Vivek believed Shank would be fired up to execute but he was wrong as wrong would be. “You just can’t,” flared Vivek. “Just cannot.”

“Spun the accelerator, bro. No time to lose. No time to lose, hurry up,” said Shank, nonchalantly.

Vivek had given directions to others to occupy seats that were in and around Abhinav’s usual corner. Since Shank had foiled the plan to grab their seats in time, they had to rush and dispatch few people under any pretext.

They appeared on the scene a bit late for Abhinav was hemmed in again.

Vivek groaned in disgust and shot an angry eye at Shank. But Shank was oblivion to Vivek’s moment of heat for he was engaged in some thinking. His lips were twitching and there was a strange glow in his eyes.

Shank swiftly glided to the circle and said, “Yo! How’s it going?”

“What the hell is he doing?” stunned Vivek questioned himself. This was not part of the plan. Everything went to bite the dust the moment he saw Shank lying dead on the bed in underwear, comfortably – if Vivek had to describe. And now, the guy had taken the reign and going god knows where.

The group in question stood looking dumbfoundedly at Shank. His barging was exceptional to them and suddenly starting a friendly conversation had thrown them off guard.

“You, a friend of his?” said a boy seated right beside Abhinav. “Never saw you before.”

“Oh, I just joined yesterday,” beamed Shank. “You can say I’m a friend but old schoolmate would be closer to the mark.”

“What’s with the haircut?” he asked again. “Up to something funny, are we?”

“This,” Shank removed his cap and caress his clean, shinning head tenderly, “is just a bad haircut. Heard you love to play with caps from a friend,” he pointed towards Vivek – whose perplexity had crossed seven seas. “Here,” he handed it to a boy next to him, “I’m a game.”

Vivek had trotted towards the action but he was wary and looking from one to another and back. The people in front of him were also returning the favor by looking at him and then at Shank. He could no longer suppress and blurted out, “Well, anything wrong, Akash?”

Akash chuckled as he saw a cap resting on Vivek’s head and the sides of his head clean and shinning. “So, you’re the one who’s pulling the strings, eh?”

Vivek glanced at Shank, “Not really, I believe.”

“I get the point,” gruntled Akash, holding a piercing gaze. “But… hmm – whatever.” He looked around at his members, rolled his neck, gesturing them to evacuate, and then, he found his feet, quite lazily as if he was eight-year-old. “See you around,” he added with a sad smile.

That smile rung trumpets in Vivek’s mind. In a distinct future, a storm would come for them.

Every eye was glued to the scene and everyone had held their breath, even Vivek. That was not how he had planned to… negotiate? As if, these people would have reasoned with him. Or would they have?

“Yo, Alin!” Shank cried, looking at Abhinav – who was equally stunned at the development. “Long time no see.” Without waiting for a reply, Shank parked himself on the bench and patted, gesturing Vivek to take a seat beside him.

Vivek stared at Abhinav. The latter buried his head in the book. As their mentor entered, Vivek had to take the seat but he asked himself, “Is this how I want it to be?” Suddenly, he recalled he did nothing. His plan went right out of the window and it was Shank who got rid of the bullies. Things turned out perfectly well but do Vivek hold the right to be beside the boy who he had almost pushed to his death? Even today, he was rendered helpless. It was his precious chance to even the odds but he had failed, again.

“Hey, Weirdo,” said Vivek.

A cold shiver ran through Abhinav’s spine. He fumbled, “Y-yes.”

“I’m sorry for –” For what? Being there but doing nothing, or ignorance, or was it for setting a date with Death? He had no answer. Six years and he could not choose the reason to apologize for.