Vikram finishes his breakfast. He grabs his bag, which he has left in the corner of the room. It is simple yet stylish, black in color with a design of white stripes on it. Aditya, who has also finished his breakfast, just grabs his office bag.
Vikram says to him, "Drop me by school, I'm late."
Aditya makes his way to the exit and says, "It's 7:30 AM; you still have half an hour." He stops, tilts his head with a grim smirk, and makes his voice sound tough. "If you get late tonight, it will be a meeting between you and my belt."
Vikram's eyes widen. He takes a step back, fear and concern appearing on his face, leaving him shaking. His mouth opens as he sees Aditya leaving the house.
"I need to hurry, or I'm doomed! School is 13 km away. Who on earth enrolls their kid in a school that far?" Vikram mutters to himself, talking non-stop in frustration as he runs towards the main door.
From the kitchen, Anu calls out, "Well, apparently, you're the one who chooses that college after 10th!"
Vikram, already in motion, shouts back, "Whatever!"
As the sound of the bell echoes from the living room, a faint puff of smoke appears. Vikram freezes, his eyes landing on an old lady dressed in a white saree with a red border. She wears old-fashioned circular glasses and moves cautiously, taking small, deliberate steps. Her hands tremble slightly—not enough to suggest complete frailty, but enough to reveal her age.
She is his grandmother, and she now blocks his way.
Vikram stops abruptly and pleads urgently, "Please, Grandma, let me go! Not today—I can't do this right now. I'm going to be late; it's already 7:35 AM!"
Despite her fragile appearance, his grandmother's voice booms with authority. "Shut up! Come with me. How ungrateful can you be to God that you can't even spare a few minutes to pray?"
Her voice, though unsteady, has a sharpness to it, reminding him of an older version of Anu. Without waiting for his response, she grabs his hand firmly and pulls him toward the living room. "Today is the day Lord Garuda himself saves you! Don't you remember? On the seventh day before your birthday, when you are kidnapped…"
She guides him to the floor in front of a small, intricately carved wooden temple. The craftsmanship of the temple is stunning—so timeless that even after all these years, it retains its charm.
Vikram slumps to the ground, his face contorting with frustration as though he is being punished. He scrunches his eyes and groans dramatically. "Ughhh! I don't want to do this! I'm late!"
His grandmother, now seated beside him and using his shoulder for support, speaks in a softer, calmer tone, a stark contrast to her earlier demeanor. "In this world ruled by Kali, neither gods nor demons can intervene. Humans are the enemies of other humans. In an era like this, we are blessed with a peaceful life. For that, we must always thank God.Vikram's eyes light up as he looks admiringly at his grandma. He clasps his hands together, takes a deep breath, and says in a loud voice, loud enough to make his grandma flinch, "If I get late today, I'll change my religion!"
With that, he bolts out of the house, leaving his grandma shouting behind him, "Wait! Wait, you bastard! Don't joke about God, you idiot!"
As Vikram sprints toward the station, he thinks, What time is it? Well, it doesn't matter. Suddenly, his attention shifts as he notices black feathers scattered around the seventh house from his own. A chill runs down his spine. What a creepy vibe I'm getting from this, he mutters to himself, but he doesn't stop running.
He heads straight to the bus stand, ignoring everything in his line of sight. His heart skips a beat when he sees the bus already there. Desperate, he sprints toward it, but just as he's about to reach the door, the last passenger—a girl—steps inside, and the bus starts moving.
"Wait! Wait! Let me in! God, please don't take revenge on me like this! I'll offer you ten flowers—just stop the bus!" he yells, panicked.
The bus is crowded, filled with students, office workers, and even old men heading for check-ups. Suddenly, a hand reaches out and pulls the rope connected to the bell. The driver stops the bus. It's the girl—the one in the school uniform—with the same school logo as Vikram's: Mumbai National High School and College, written on the right side of her pocket.
Grateful, Vikram climbs aboard, gasping for air, his hands on his knees. As he looks up, an old man from a nearby seat says with a chuckle, "Thanks to that girl who rang the bell, or you'd definitely be late today.""Haaa, haaa, well, thank you," he says, taking a deep breath. He looks up to see a familiar face, which surprises him. As he avoids any interaction, he says, "Thanks for stopping the bus," in a low voice, then looks in another direction.
The girl, looking down, says, "Nev—never mind," and starts gazing out the window.
"Hey, look, that guy didn't even say thanks properly to that girl," a girl sitting in the front seat says to the boy beside her.
He responds, "Don't you know? She has that kind of reputation. Even her own classmates got kisses from her for just 500 rupees."
"Hey, I didn't know that. I wonder why the school keeps her," the girl says, curious.
"What the hell? Bad morning, plus I have to see her now, at a time like this," Vikram mutters while looking out the window. He sighs and continues, "Now if my friends saw me with her, they'd spread bad rumors. What a pain. Well, at least now I can make it on time," he thinks to himself. His face brightens again.
The girl, Anita, who rang the bell, sees Vikram smiling. She thinks to herself, Ah, finally he smiled. How cute. Seeing him like this makes it worth the effort to come all the way from the other side of Amrut Town to the upper side.