WE & MONSOON : Love vs Promise

|| DECISION TO MAKE ||

(AFTER FEW DAYS)

Smaran sits on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them as if holding himself together. He stares out of the window, watching the world outside as if it belongs to someone else, as if he is no longer a part of it. The usual sounds of life—the distant hum of traffic, the chirping of birds, the faint chatter of neighbours—feel muffled, as if he is underwater, detached from the world he once knew.

When I was eight years old, there used to be a TV show. I don't remember the name of the show or its characters, but there is one dialogue that I still recalls. It said, "In this world, you can become whatever you want." Back then, I truly believed that it was that easy. I just needed to hold onto the desire to become something, and i would easily achieve it. How was that child supposed to know that before becoming something, one has to pass an entrance exam here.

His phone buzzes on the bedside table, but he ignores it. He knows it is probably a friend or relative checking in to see how he did. The thought of answering, of having to explain, makes his stomach churn. What could he say? That he has failed? That he isn't good enough? The very idea of facing anyone right now feels unbearable.

At that time, I had watched a movie named Damini and it made me feel like I also wanted to become a lawyer. It feels funny now, remembering how I used to dress up in my dad's black coat and pretend to be a lawyer, giving everyone punishments. However, it is the judge's responsibility to deliver punishments, not the lawyers.

His eyes flick to his desk, where a neatly stacked pile of textbooks sits, untouched since the day before the results were announced. The sight of them fills him with a deep sense of dread. I wish that what I had imagined during childhood could have been applied in the real world too.

The cracking sound of the door behind breaks the Smaran attention. His mom steps in, holding a plate of food in her hand. She places the plate on Smaran's desk and gently places her hand on his hair. "Eat it when you feel like it," she says softly.

Smaran stretches a smile and nods. "Your dad is leaving this evening; talk to him," his mom adds before leaving the room.

A few moments later, Smaran's dad enters the room. Smaran swiftly stands up from his bed and sits on the edge of the table. His dad takes a chair, a slight smile on his face, and says, "You barely missed it, didn't you? Otherwise, you could have gotten admission."

Smaran averts his gaze, his shoulders slumping. His voice is barely above a whisper. "My rank is so low that getting into NUJS is doubtful; even admission to other government colleges is challenging."

Smaran's dad falls silent for a moment. Smaran, fidgeting with the bedsheet, asks, "Dad, are you disappointed in me?"

"No, no, my son," his dad replies, leaning forward with sincerity. "I am not disappointed in you at all. I only worry about you. I know you have worked very hard, and I have no doubt about your abilities."

"But you wanted to go with me for the admission, right?"

"Yes, I did. But son, NUJS is not going anywhere, and neither am I. I am here with you. If it didn't happen this year, it will happen next year. Don't worry about it."

Smaran smiles a bit, feeling a touch of reassurance from his father's words. His dad places a hand on Smaran's shoulder, continuing, "And don't worry about anything else. You have been sitting here for so long. Go out with your friends. What are their names, Zaid and Sweety?"