19th August 2017
***07:00AM***
The harsh sound of buzzer woke me up.
Sleep was never my best friend; but whatever little I got last night was worth every ounce.
I thought of banging the alarm clock on ground and going back to bed, but the events of yesterday consumed me.
‘Signed up for the challenge!
Completed its first task too! Suddenly I felt a bit macho about myself. I had a desperate urge to show off to someone. Maybe it is something I am actually good at. Maybe I am that genetically blessed soldier!’ I thought loudly. With that in mind, I decided to attend college.
As I was getting inside my class, the professor rebuked me, “So Karan. Failed again, huh? Are you going to stay here forever?”
I gave him a hard stare but kept mum.
But he was in no mood to let me go as he further pinned, “Why are you looking at me like this? Have you got no shame? I know how your father scraps through to send you here and you!”
Before he could further throw his weight at me, I shot back, “Does he sleep with your wife that you are so concerned??”
Entire class heard it. And they burst out laughing. The professor; potbellied middle-aged bastard was very, very angry as he shouted hard at me, “How dare you talk such nonsense in my class? Get the hell out of here! I am going to complain it to the principal!” He started dragging me out.
I was surprised at my audacity. But quickly realized further consequences if I didn’t get out of this little situation, “Sir Sir I am very sorry sir. Sir please sir sir…” I begged as he pulled me out and we stood in the corridor.
I fell to his feet, “Sir I couldn’t sleep properly for last few days due to poor results. Sir I had no idea what I was blabbering. Please sir.” I kept pleading with folded hands.
He finally cooled down and took pity on me as he went back inside but signaled me to stay out.
With nothing to do, I started wandering uneasily towards the canteen. I took my spectacles off as I rechecked my behavior. Never in my life had I spoken back to any of the teachers, certainly not to this proportion.
I went to the counter and ordered a portion of samosa. At twenty rupees for 2 pieces of fried triangular pastry with spiced potato for filling, it was my thrice-a-week treat. The young boy at counter pushed the plate to me. They were served cold.
I asked him, “Can you heat them atleast?”
He stared at me as if I had asked for his sister’s hand for marriage! After making faces, he lectured back, “Yes, don’t attend classes and then come here everyday to take eatables on credit. And on top of it, you want them to be served with full royalty. New batch will be prepared after twenty minutes. Either come back then or take these.”
I had rebuffed enough for one day. I quietly picked them and walked away.
There was a beep on my mobile phone. I stood in a corner, next to a wall and brought it out. It was a message from him.
@admin: Great job, soldier! You really taught your professor a lesson he deserved!
I was flabbergasted and looked around me. There were students walking all over but everyone seemed engaged in himself or herself. I replied him back.
@lowlife: how did you come to know??
@admin: Didn’t I tell you I have innumerous wolves following every single lion of mine? You are my asset now and I ought to keep an eye for you.
I kept staring at the screen, not knowing how to react or what to say.
@admin: now don’t stand like a wimp. Go on with your day. Don’t be conscious of being watched. Remember today is Day 2. You will get your task in a few hours.
(admin logged out)
***11:30 AM***
I was sitting idly in the computer lab when I received a mail from him. It had my second task.
“Your day2 task is to carve F57 with a razor on your left hand. Send me a picture when you are done. Waiting.”
My eyes popped out as I read this one-liner mail. I quickly hopped to my chat screen and looked for him. Luckily he was online.
@lowlife: admin, admin!
@admin: how are you champ
@lowlife: I got the most weird task. It asked me to cut my hand with a razor and…
@admin: I know it, I made it and I sent it
@lowlife: isn’t it totally nuts???
@admin: this is just your second day
@lowlife: ok listen. I am not going to do it! Its really foolish… and dangerous.
@admin: what you said to your professor this morning was the stuff of genius? Were you expecting mushy truth-or-dare tasks here followed by heart-and-arrow smileys?
@lowlife: but slashing yourself? What kind of a sane person does that? And what does f57 mean anyway?
@admin: don’t talk to me in questions okay? Just because you started out this game yesterday, I will be patient with you. However as the game progresses, you have to figure out this stuff yourself. Be tough enough.
@admin: f57 is a disability sport classification for people with limb deficiencies. It is like para-olympics of people with their hand not in order.
For us though, it is a representation of a character, of a person who is not dependent on anything to fight out his battle.
With this task, we are looking at your guts, your bravado. If one can hurt himself physically, however minor it may be; then only one can take on bigger challenges of life!
@lowlife: that’s totally mad
@admin: f57?
@lowlife: no. your logic of hurting own
@admin: look behind you..
(administrator logged out)
There was Neelika and a couple of her friends Shruti and Neha; standing right behind me and staring at my computer screen. I fumbled with the mouse and quickly opened another browser window. Neelika spoke up, “Hi Karan!”
I smiled feebly. Her girls too splashed a lovely grin. They all looked so fashionable and desirable, totally out of my league though.
Neelika spoke again, “Hey I am so sorry about what happened to you the other day. Gosh! The boys were so rude to you! It was just a stupid bet anyway…” and then went on to get nicer, “the way you snapped our professor today was just awesome! Finally someone had an answer to that arrogant pig.”
The girls started giggling loudly. And then they too joined, “yeah, oh my god you are too brave Karan.”
I kept sitting with my eyes dreamy and an embarrassed smile when Neelika pulled my cheek and bid goodbye. “We must get together sometime,” she said as she turned around to go.
Her skirt had a little slit right near those kneecaps. I kept staring at it for a while when my phone beeped.
@admin: One day into the challenge and see the kind of rewards you are getting. And you want to blow this up? Why, because you cant scratch with a little razor on your forearm? Didn’t we all do it all the time with compass in school?
@lowlife: how did.. How did you know all this??
I again looked around. This time I was pretty sure that there was only me, Neelika and her couple of friends who witnessed our conversation.
So who exactly was this godfather’s partner-in-crime? Was it those girls? Was it Neelika?
***05:15 PM***
I entered a little chemist shop at SDA Market and asked for blades. A brawny guy manned that tuck-shop and advised me, “These days nobody uses them for shaving. If you are short on budget, try these Gillette ready-to-shave razors, 18 bucks a piece.”
I tried to be polite and asked for what I needed. He shot back, “Do you even have a razor to fit these ancient blades?”
My blood raged, I don’t know why. I harshly replied, “These are for a science project.” He nodded and gave me a little brown paperbag with 5 blades.
Why is the whole world interested in me all of a sudden? These hot college girls, professors, random razor salesmen, and not to forget; an international organization on a world mission? Who was I? What was I?
‘The world remembers the king, however ordinary he may have been.’ I thought to myself thinking of the Tughlaqs, Afghans, Mughals and Marathas. But the names of those he ruled fade into silence — only the ruler remains etched in memory
Even Hitler was remembered, and not the millions he slaughtered.
And then I thought of a carnivore Lion who hunts, murders and eats animal flesh. What a terrible thing to do to, yet be crowned as the king of the jungle…
However we may despise it, the human race concedes and appreciates aggression. Those who have the stomach to rip open their prey or their own self; are respected.’
I walked back home.
That night I skipped dinner and sat on my chair, still flirting with that eccentric thought. Admin’s email was opened on my laptop, while the razors lay next to the broken mouse.
I stared hard at the mouse and remembered how I promised my father of better results if only he agreed to sponsor this five hundred bucks purchase a year back.
“First you asked for the laptop over a desktop for its mobility and now you need a mouse too? Doesn’t it come pre-fitted with one of these things?” He asked me one last time as we fiddled among gadgets at a shop in Nehru Place.
“Yes papa, but these days studies are about multi-tasking. I have to wiggle between many different screens one after the other, and having it only improves efficiency.” I shot back while finalizing a red one. He looked worried as it looked shiny and expensive.
“It better gets you some results this time.” He remarked, resigning to this expenditure and reaching for his wallet to pay. It was one of the last luxuries I made him spend for. My results had further dwindled and I had little courage to ask him for more money than needed for my tuition and lodging.
“I better make wise use of it!” I told myself remembering that incident. Then almost instinctively I picked the razor up next to the now dull-looking mouse and made a cut on my left forearm.
Blood gushed out and sent a current of sensation right through my arm to the bicep, to the shoulder and then spread out to the entire upper body. In my haste to make the move, I had made a deep and long cut, something, which wasn’t even required.
As bleeding didn’t stop, I thought it was best to make the next move quickly too.
So I somehow made two small parallel dashes to finish the F. By now pain and me had became one and I ceased to care before completing the task. I quickly made some more cuts and inscribed a badly written 5.
The mark even though completed, was now swollen, and the arm was full of blood. I got up and covered it with a piece of cloth, further causing torture. I somehow grabbed my computer and clicked a picture of the crooked red mark, as I finally made some ‘good’ use of the mouse.
My affair with pain was nothing new; with an everyday history of overthinking and mental pressures. It had just reached a new physical dimension too, I realized.
Pain is a better companion; it gives you an occasional reason to cherish as you oscillate between moments of extreme hurt and some not-so agonizing ones…
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