THE VOICES

The crazy fellows crazy thoughts came when he touched the teenage. Till then I was not the best in the class so it was not a ‘fate’ of this chap. I sat in a corner of the classroom watching my beautiful princess – Tamanna.
“Karan! Listen here you moron.” Scowled the dirty ass who we need to call ‘sir’. Bhajrang Patel was one of those teachers who loved to screw his students through out his life. He had a small round face with a bigger round belly and even bigger round head where I wonder all the shit in this world are fed inside it. He was never a human for me, actually his name should have been ‘Bhujang’. His fifty-year-old filthy oily skin reminded me of a dirty venomous snake. My mates used to put up stories on Patel. Nine years ago he tortured a girl who was caught copying in an exam. The girl eventually hanged herself in the classroom fan that stood right above me. Well, these things are totally untrue, claimed some of the other good for nothing teachers. But the story has always haunted me, its impossible for such a man not to do such a thing. Anyway, that was hard to prove but another incident was the dismissing of a boy who kissed a girl in the math lab. It was just an inner desire of a teenager but this asshole came up with this harsh decision. The same evening the boy was killed in an accident. Once again Patel has victimized a student.

II

Just like the school, I hated my home too. My dad, the colonel in the army wants me to be in front of the book all the day and night even the weekends were not free. His dream was that I get in to an IIT. Bah! We didn’t have anything such as a TV and not even a radio. According to him they were too noisy. Even I was thrashed if I laughed above his frequency limit. And the statue in the corner of the house is none other than my mom. “Its all for your good, Karan.” Those were the few words that came from her mouth. Yes! Thrashing my ass and thighs were only for my good being.

III

Yet another day passed, I was getting ready for the school when someone called me from behind and yelled, “Good bye, Karan!” I turned back, ‘no one’. Without a reply for this ‘no one’ I stepped out and stepped into the bus. I was startled to see the bus empty and couldn’t take of my eyes from the drivers seat. No driver and the bus was moving. A girl behind me cried, ”Karan, quick go and get the control.” I didn’t even look back to see who the girl was and caught the steering. SLAP! I realized that the driver was still driving the huge fucking machine. “But truly, I saw no one”. I said still in the shock.
“Saala! These days kids want to do some adventure to impress the girls.” Said the driver. The girls giggled. Yes, almost whatever I do, were for the girls to giggle. I hate the girls too (except Tamanna), they were crazy about Amar, a Greek God. This guy had acted in a movie (childhood of a star) and claims to be as one of the most important people in the industry. Though the film bombed, his stardom still holds in the school. And his favourite pass time – making me small and a loser in front of the girls with his ‘cool’ jokes.
The bus stopped at the school ground, the early morning clown got out of the bus, staring, wondering about the long 8 hours.
Patel’s class, so boring and sleepy that I closed my eyes to the dream world. In the dream, as always it was Tamanna. Both of us alone in the class. It definitely had to be a dream because she was speaking to me! “Karan, I love you! I can’t live without you”. She raised her hands for a hug. I got nervous and the guy behind me asked me to get her and it was the right opportunity. I got thrilled and in that thrill I didn’t even turn back to see whom he was. I ran, calling “Tamanna, my sweet heart” and gave her a hard hug. Just then an unusual sound broke out, then I realized it was the class laughing and clapping. I am hugging Tamanna. SLAP! No there were two of them. SLAP! One from Tamanna and another from Patel. “You scoundrel, you moron. Come with me. Now!” Patel shouted.

IV

The next thing I remember was - me sitting in a corner of the Principals room and my dad was having a talk with the Principal and Patel.
Fuck! I would never have screwed this day without those voices. The sweet voice of that girl in that bus and that bloody voice of that guy who made me hug Tamanna. Now I’ll never get along with her. The fear now I had was the war waiting for me at home.

V

It was a 15-minute drive from my school to home, today it seemed to be 5 minutes. My dad was all set to kick my butts. Before when I was about to remove my shoes, dad caught my arms and rotated me like a merry-go-round. BANG! My tummy hit onto the table edge. I cried to stop. No mercy. He raised his belt and continued his favourite job. Next, he closed me in a closely isolated room and told mom not to give even a drop of water. Silence had occupied the room before my weeping. Recalling things that happened today, I stretched my legs looking at the hazy light that came through the ventilator. The floor was wet.
Just then a voice came from the room. This time it was a lot older and much familiar. It belonged to my grandfather, who died last year.
“HO HO HO! Karan, beta. Stop crying. These things do happen in your age. I used to beat your dad, till his bums turn as red as baboons. HAHAHA”. I also laughed along with grandfather, thinking of dad’s baboon ass.
Hearing me laugh my dad opened the door. My laugh grew louder when I saw him. His face had the funniest expression I had ever seen. He left the place leaving the door opened.

VI

The French bearded cool guy smiled at me and said, “Hello Karan!”
“Hi!” It came automatically from my mouth.
“You were into a lot of troubles these days.”
“Yeah. What can I do, they were making me to.”
“They?”
“OH! The voices!”
Somehow I felt this man a lot comfortable and thought of telling him everything.

Days passed. Medicines came and went. I went to school and came back home. Voices made me to throw my pencil box at Patel, punched Amar’s nose, and threw stones at the glass pane of our bus when the driver was still inside. I was given the medical leave, now living in a more comfortable place with some funny people. Dr.Rathod keeps comforting me.
The day came when I realized that I heard no more dead people’s voices. A week later I was back home. The house looked different. A new colour television, a computer, a DVD player, a new bicycle and the best – a loving dad. Dr.Rathod did some miracle.

So friends, that was the piece of my life I was talking about.

“Checkmate”
“No! Grandpa, you are cheating.”
“I didn’t, that was a fair play.”
“No! Cheating! Cheating! Cheating!”