Karna's body ached as he slowly opened his eyes. The scent of damp earth and freshly cut grass filled his nose. Sunlight peeked through the leafy branches above, casting gentle shadows on the ground. He was lying on a stone bench, surrounded by trees and bushes. The sound of distant birds chirping reminded him that this wasn't a deep forest—it was the backside mountain park of Mumbai High School, a peaceful place where students sometimes wandered during lunch breaks.
Then, the memories hit him,when the Das and his gang beaten him.Karna sat up abruptly, wincing. He had been beaten again. And all because he had sat beside her. Not by choice, but because Head Teacher Luis had changed the seating arrangement today. Das, the self-proclaimed admirer of the girl, hadn't taken it well.
Now, Karna was here, left to nurse his bruises alone. As he massaged his sore arm. Now, he was alone in the backside mountain park, a place where students sometimes wandered but never stayed for long.
Dusting off his uniform, Karna scanned the surroundings. His schoolbag lay near the trees at the forest's edge, half-covered in fallen leaves. He walked over, picked it up, and slung it over his shoulder.
For a moment, he stood there, watching the trees sway gently in the breeze. The school building was visible through the gaps in the branches. He could see the white walls, the windows where students would be sitting in class, unaware of his absence.
Karna made his way down the familiar path, stepping out of the forest and onto the paved road leading to the school's main gate.
The old watchman, clad in his usual khaki uniform, stood leaning against the iron gates, watching the street with mild disinterest. As Karna approached, the man turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Leaving early, beta?" the watchman asked, noticing his disheveled state.
Karna hesitated. "Just… went down the mountain," he muttered.
The watchman's wrinkled face softened with curiosity. "Everything alright?"
Karna forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just heading home."
The old man didn't press further. Instead, he nodded and waved him off. "Take care."
With a final glance at the school that had been both a place of learning and a battlefield, Karna stepped through the gates and into the world beyond.
The city greeted him with its usual symphony—honking cars, chattering pedestrians, the distant call of street vendors. The afternoon sun hung heavy over the skyline, casting long shadows across the streets.
Karna walked past bustling markets, the aroma of street food mingling with the scent of petrol and dust. He passed office-goers rushing to catch buses, children laughing as they played with sticks and stones by the roadside. Mumbai never stopped moving.