He stared point blank at his
bloody hands. He was just twenty-two. So young. So stupid. But he had
been younger once. More stupid. His mind had been in pursuit of so
many answers until now and with great effort,he had tried to clear
it. But soon he found himself
chasing his past. Flashes of memory that had played hundreds of
times already.
Little
chunks of his past-of his loving family,his spoilt childhood...He had
everything a boy his age would have ever wanted. But he was even
better than just a rich boy. He was a champion-an all in all. He had
made his mark in his studies and sports,he was an established orator
and a natural leader. He grew up to be everyone's pet.
'Everything
would have gone that way',he reflected,'if it wasn't for Sam'. Sam
was a fresher at his school. With his charm and talents he became an
instant hit at his new school. 'In some ways he excelled me'. He was
not only a proficient student,but also a prodigal singer and a
sportsman. He was quite an extrovert too. Being very social,he made
friends in every nook and corner of the school in no time at all.
Then
came the most coveted school elections-'the event that I had my eyes
on for so long'.
'I
was the natural choice at first'. But then someone put up Sam's name
and everyone tagged on to it. And thus there were two contenders for
the post- then followed the heated election campaigns and the polling
day. On the day of verdict,beating everyone's expectations,'even mine
own',Sam won.
He
remembers the pain he felt as he saw his very friends raise Sam off
his feet and cheer him on.
'It
must be then that the cards started to fall'. For then on,he felt the
ground slip under his feet. 'May be I was imagining it...'He felt as
if the whole world had switched its side from him to Sam. His
friends, teachers, everything,everyone.....It triggered the fire in
him,the fire of want for revenge. 'It must be then that I felt like I
could take the world away from him who took mine away from me'.
He
distinctly remembers the day he worked out his evil plan. Caught in
the frenzy of drugs and a subhuman attitude,he
set fire to Sam's house. He could still retrace that vivid image of
flames licking the night sky and he knew for once that he didn't feel
the zeal of achievement
at having completed his 'mission'. 'It was a mistake',he thought to
himself,' A very bad mistake. A pointless,crazy adrenaline-drive.'
His
train of thoughts was interrupted by the warden who was glaring at
him with his big,yellow eyes.”You have a visitor”,he grunted
between his teeth.
In
a minute, he found himself standing in the visiting room across his
visitor,the deep gorge of bars separating his hell from the heaven of
freedom that lay beyond. His guest was on wheels and it wasn't a hard
face to recognise , or what remained of it.'Sam...' ,his voice
cracked, half frightened,half guilty. His midnight advent had
scorched everything in Sam's life. The form on the crutches was all
that remained of that night. The only remainder... Terrible burn
marks showed on whatever part of the body his clothes exposed.
A
garbage pile.
He
himself was hoping that some miracle would happen. His mind embraced
the stories and experiences he had heard about- where the offended
forgave the offender. But he knew he had no right to even wish for
that. Nevertheless his eyes searched for forgiveness in that of the
figure that lay in front of him.
“You
could have taken me,John....Why them? Why my family?” he broke up.
To
that he had no answer. So he turned around,back to his cell.....
***
He
must have fallen asleep. His light slumber was forced to a sudden
halt by the rattle of metal against the cell bars.”It's time”,the
warden said...
***
His
mind went blank again. It was an effortless thing now that it had
crossed to mere oblivion. He knew he best deserved this. So he had no
regrets as the black shroud clouded his face. A swish. A crack. He
suddenly tasted peace-the peace he had been thirsty for so long...
***
