The crowd was cheering madly. Why wouldn't they !! It was there favourite fighter fighting. As he delivered more and more punches, more and more kicks and gave more and more injuries to his opponent, the cheering got more and more louder.
No one in the crowd knew who this fighter was as he always covered his face with a mask, and they didn't really care that much. He just came suddenly one night four years ago and entered street fighting and has been there ever since. All that mattered to them was that he won them money by winning every fight.
He was undefeated. Ever since he joined, he hadn't lost a single fight. No one even knew his name, but to the public and other fighters, he was known as ' Tiger '.
He was fighting bare chest, so his scars were visible to everyone. The scars which he had gotten from his fights over the years, from various opponents, from different wounds. One thing which he always wore other than his mask was a black cloth on his right arm, no one knew why and no one was even bothered enough to ask.
As he delivered the final punch to his opponent, the opponent fell down and became unconscious. The crowd cheered, especially those who had placed bets for his win.
Crowd :- TIGER. TIGER. TIGER.
Everyone was cheering for him, but the fighter stood there quietly before going to a nearby chair picking up his t-shirt, wearing it and leaving from there.
The other mysterious thing about him was that he never took the money he won, all the money would be given to the opponent he had defeated.
Tiger kept walking from that place. He walked some distance from there, before turning around the corner and entering a street. A person was waiting for him with a car. Both looked at each other, but no one said anything. It was going to be of no use.
Tiger came near the car, and sat in the passenger seat. The other person didn't say anything. He just started the car and drove near a clinic.
Reaching the clinic, both got out of the car and entered the clinic. Tiger removed his mask. His face had some light bruise which would be gone by the coming morning.
A doctor came there with a first aid box. Tiger just brought forward his left arm which had a gash on it, courtesy of the man whom he had faced earlier.
The doctor started stitching the wound. Tiger didn't even flinch, didn't even react as if it didn't matter anything. There was a time when he would have shouted, would have been scared of it but not anymore. He wasn't the same person anymore. After the stitching was done, he and his friend went from the clinic and finally came in front of the house.
Both tiger and his friend looked at each other. Tiger's friend put his hand on tiger's shoulder.
Friend :- apna khayal rakhna kartik.
Kartik :- haa, naksh.
Naksh :- aur chinta mat karo, agar gharwalo mein se kisi ne bhi poocha ki ye chot kahan se aayi, toh main sambhal loonga.
Kartik just nodded.
Naksh :- aur haa, abhi sabse pehle jaakar apni dawai le lena.
Kartik just nodded.
Kartik :- good night naksh.
Naksh :- good night kartik.
Kartik got out of the car and entered his house. The lights were switched off. He looked at the time. It was 2. He slowly went up to his room and opened the door.
He slowly entered his room and was hit by a wave of sadness and loneliness. He looked around as if searching for someone. Someone who would excitedly come and greet him, hug him, kiss him, someone who would hold his hand, someone on whose lap he loved laying on, someone who was his soul, someone who was his everything, but was now gone. Because of him and only him. Now there was only silence in the room, a strange silence.
