He walked on. From street to street, colony to colony, Vishwa knew his area like the back of his palm. He was not the type that woke up at 6 in the morning, pulled on track suits and shoes and went on a walk to burn away the calories. He didn’t have track suits, he didn’t have shoes and he certainly didn’t have any extra calories to burn. He just walked. He liked observing people and he could see a variety of personae in every man and woman on the street in the mornings. They went about their lives with no concern for anyone else. Through the windows, he could see men still asleep at 8. Women shouting at the top of their voices and running behind their kids, getting them ready for school; old men, having seen enough of the World, slumped on easy chairs and hidden behind newspapers; The fresh aroma of sambar floating out of kitchen ventilators; young men polishing their bikes as if a small scratch could stop the bike from running; young women standing bent down n drying their hair; Daddies listening to morning news shows and adding to the noise. Vishwa walked past this tower of Babel every morning. He lived below this stratum of society, and he intended to jump well above them in his relentless pursuit of excellence.
Vishwa wasn’t rich by any stretch of imagination except his. A student of history in the Govt. College of Arts & Science, he lived with his thoughts and his books. For a person from his background, he was an enigma to his people. Though he had never studied English in school or college, he could read, write and talk good English. He had taught himself the language of their long gone colonists in the city’s central library for over 10 years now. Every librarian there knew him. He was a man on a mission and he was driven to achieve. And that, in his mind, made him richer than even Shantaram Narayanan, the most famous man in his area and owner of the biggest gears and gear boxes manufacturing company in the country. Shantaram, according to Vishwa, was a fool. He didn’t have the balls to launch a hostile takeover of his rival though doing so would’ve taken him past the 50% mark in the industry.
His little gang of friends were all from his locality. When he didn’t have classes, he hung out with them. Though his gang were all wastrels who did nothing at home, college or work, he found them fascinating in a way. It was the basest level of complacency he saw in people, and he observed them. He didn’t mind people casting him ugly looks when he was with his gang. They were hated where ever they went. While his friends took that as a sign of people’s fear for them, Vishwa took it as a sign for him to move on to greater things soon.
This day he found them where he found them regularly. Just at the entrance to a huge vehicle parking lot. There was nothing for them to do there. They just sat there heckling the people passing by. Time flew past them as they had the time of their lives. For Vishwa, it was like sitting in a classroom and observing the heckling and the reactions. Though he was tarred with the same brush as the rest of them, he never paid heed to it. His calling was on a much higher level, and he took the ugly looks in his stride.
It was well past 6 in the evening, time for him to go home. His friends usually stayed in their favourite spot well past 10 but Vishwa usually left early. He saw a man walk in, get on his scoter and leave. He was almost at the ramp leading up and out of the parking lot when his scooter broke down. The man seemed scared of being alone in the parking lot with Vishwa and his gang. Vishwa could sense his fear; the poor man was shaking and wondering how to get out of there safely. He knew his friends would give the poor man the fright of his life in a few minutes so to avoid a scene, Vishwa got up and walked to the man. Just as he had expected, the man tensed with every step that Vishwa took towards him. Thoroughly amused by the man’s actions, Vishwa waited a few seconds before saying anything. He could see the man feeling every second like it was a year. The sweat on the back of his neck was all too easy to see and Vishwa felt the poor bugger was going to wet his pants very soon. Suppressing a smirk, he touched the man on his shoulder...
