DIVINE CHAMPIONS 4: THE SUN'S CHOICE

NOT SO MUCH OF A DREAM

It all went wrong after nearly a week.

That day, on his way to college, Ishaan's bike's tire got punctured, so he reached late for the band meeting. His little maths test had gone to astray. Overall, it was a poor day. "Who knows why Maa made me do maths. I literally can't." He was fussing all about it to himself, when he collided with his maths professor, Dr. Chandra. one particular professor who wasn't fond of him. 

The old man had found him auditioning for the band and had called singing a waste of time, and he should rather focus on studying. He even criticised him for his choice of course. And after Ishaan had started to learn a little Urdu for help in writing his own songs, that old man jumped in here too. "Urdu is a Pakistani language, Mr. Borgohain. You are an Indian." And the worst part? He would add a little phrase and a line in the end, "I guess. Not sure if we consider Northeast as a part of India anyway." Ishaan always knew better than to reply. He knew he was not going to do himself any help arguing with him. This guy could just fail him for the semester and he would be trying to clear a backlog next year, which would again be checked by this person. So, for his own sake, he used to keep quiet.

But that day, all hell broke loose. Ishaan was in a really bad mood. And he had to collide with the dude whose test he had just shamed himself in. Seriously, there were nearly ten thousand students in the college, and over four hundred faculty members. Yet, it had to be him. He looked at Ishaan, his face full of disgust. "You again?" He asked, "It's as if you are everywhere I see. Why don't you disappear from in front of my face?"

Ishaan was truly having a bad day, or he wouldn't have reacted the way he did. "What is your problem with me, Sir?"

"Look at yourself, boy. You think you belong here?"

"What do you mean?" Ishaan knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted him to say it. He had decided that he had put up with this. And in his hatred for Ishaan's heritage, old man had forgotten that he was in a public place. And that was a chance Ishaan wasn't missing.

"You look less like an Indian, boy. You are more of a chink. You literally don't belong here."

"Come again?" Ishaan asked.

"Didn't you hear, chowmein? You are a chink. Or maybe a Pakistani, given you love that Pakistani language so much."

Around them, the little crowd that had gathered to watch the scene gasped. 'Chink'. "How long would Northeastern people have to hear this in the country?"

"You are talking back to me?" Dr. Chandra said.

"You are a racist." Ishaan said, gritting his teeth, "You are lucky that my mother taught me enough manners to not use words I really wanna use right now."

"So?" Dr. Chandra was getting more aggressive, "What will you do?"

"Look around, Dr. Chandra." Ishaan said, smiling.

One girl came out of the crowd. She was tall, slightly darkish skinned, straight long jet black hair, and shining black eyes. She had rose pink rimmed spectacles. She wore a dark blue coat over a white shirt, and a pair of jeans. She seemed to be a senior. She had her phone out. "I will do something." She said.

"Aitri!" Dr. Chandra, whose face had lost a bit of its colour after looking around, seemed to lose it even more, "Beta, give me your phone." So this was Aitri Ghosh Dastidar, one of the most popular students in here, and one of the brightest ones at that. Wow, she was coming to his aid.

"Stop calling me beta." Aitri said, "You've lost that right." She turned to Ishaan, and said, "Go home, man. And don't worry. I'll see that this doesn't go unpunished."

"It is just heartbreaking." Ishaan's voice was catching up. Aitri suddenly froze, looking at him funny, frowning. Then, she shook her head, and walked away. What was that about?

"Don't be sad. I'll make sure anyone who does this again gets punished." Aitri seemed to have a lot of ascertainment on the faculty here. Of course she did. For all Ishaan had heard, she had done her BSc here, and her MSc here, and was now doing her PhD. She was known to receive so many awards from the Dean, that everyone knew her very well, and liked her too.

In about five minutes, Ishaan was riding his bike home. As soon as he reached home, he flailed his bag on the sofa and sat down. His tempers were rising like they never had. Weirdly, his body was heating up in anger. Udi was already home. He had seen her bicycle outside. Udi came from inside the kitchen. "Hey, I made some chicken sliders." She said, as she went inside again. She came back with two plates full of little slider burgers. "You look weird." Udi said, "What's wrong?"

"Four years in this city and people still think we don't belong here."

"What?" Udi's eyes glared, "Racism? In our own country?"

"Well, the black people get to face racism in their own country." Ishaan said.

"You poor man, you are shivering with anger."

Ishaan's tempers knew no bounds now. His hands were heating up. "I wish I could burn him down."

And then, it happened. Something that would change his life forever. 

Ishaan slashed his right hand in agitation. It felt as if he let go of all the heat that was in his hand, and out of his hand came fire. The flames hit his slider plate, and caught fire. Ishaan's agitation turned to utter shock. "Woah!" Udi's eyes exploded. Ishaan looked at his own hand, and then at the fire, as it burned his evening snack. The only thing that came out of his mouth was, "She was real!"

"Dada?" Udi somehow managed.

"Oh no, I..."

"Dada?"

"I am a freak. An actual freak."

"Dada, what is this thing? What just happened? And why is this real?"

"Oh no, no, no." Ishaan couldn't take it at all. So, he ran. Away from his sister, from his home. He just ran, and didn't even care for his bike. He kept running, past the neighbouring houses, and into the street behind. Pankhpur's speciality, the quiet streets around residence areas that were now safe. Ishaan ran on, until he faced an obstacle. It was a black dog. A big one at that. It bared its fangs, saliva dripping from its mouth.