The Krishna Love (Wattpad India Awards Winner)

Chapter 55 - Setting the scene

The reality is not how you perceive it, this thought kept on popping up his Sid's mind. The things Prakash spoke to him days before pictured in his head. A lot of debaters put forward their arguments based on facts. But you, my friend, don't go by the facts. You discovered them. We generally accept reality the way it is presented to us—without questioning as if it's genuinely the reality—but you, on the other hand, see that reality the world doesn't want you to perceive. This very perception keeps you ahead of the curve.

Is he truly ahead of the curve? He highly doubted it, but that was his humble self.

Come to think of it, now he could connect the dots—thanks to the theories told by Ronit—why hecklers get first preference in any debate show. Just spit some words of hatred and see everyone fight each other like cats and dogs. Isn't it why news channel invites hecklers to boost their TRP by hosting salty debates?

Sid got up from the bed to search his beanbag, his joints at this point were bit aced due to sitting in the same posture for long.

On his double bed, you'd find not only cushions but the piles of books. He had bookmarked a heap of pages of those books. Also, he left no stone unturned to memorize ample of verses, the ones that'll come in handy.

"Intelligence, please fail me not, you are the only hope I got," he told himself and did some stretching before pushing his bedroom door open. Cracking of bones squished the lethargy out of his limbs.

He wanted to invade his big brother's bedroom (Pratham's evil grin flashed before his eyes when he might have stolen the beanbag, the latter always burst like a volcano because of this bad childhood trait).

Sid's words attacked his big brother. "Where's my stolen bean bag? Seriously, man, when are you going to use your stuff with care?" he pushed open the ajar door.

Pratham, who was studying on his study table, simply gestured his head at the beanbag.

Sid's lips curled as he shook his head. He grabbed his beanbag like an animal hold its cub and began to head back to his bedroom.

"Sid," Pratham called upon his little brother. Sid skipped a beat there was a sense of suspicious rose in his heart. Both of the brothers turned around to face each other.

"Yeah?" he leapt his eyebrows up in a questioning look.

"My friend said," Pratham closed his book and kept quiet for a momentary pause. "He saw you with a bloke at Manor Hall.

The word "Manor Hall" sent ripples of terror through Sid's heart. "Yeah, I was..." The fear climbed up to his throat, making him choke. "Had some college project."

Although he managed to give a legit excuse, the trepidation was toying with his composure. Pratham did feel something was wrong. With narrowed eyes, he inquired. "What kinda project?" His eyes tore off from his little brother, and his hand went to scratch his head. "My friend said that place is notorious, it's a hellhole full of religious venom and politics."

Again a flush of haunting fear attempted to choke Sid's voice, but he managed to get past words of confidence. "No, no. I don't have any business there except college project."

Perhaps this was what Pratham wanted to hear, he randomly bounced his shoulders and busied himself in his work, without uttering concluding words or further investigating.

Sid did bring his beanbag to his bedroom; however, it was only his body that did the job. Anxiety consumed his mind like a zombie, and it dawned on him that he'd never shared or talked about his spiritual journey to his family.

He could imagine furrowed brows of his mother. I used to think my child just go to his college and come back, when in the world he got into all of this? She would scold. Son, it is not the right time for you to pursue spirituality, this would be his dad's words.