A Pocketful Of Peace

1. A Slice Of Life

"Hey! What do you think you are doing?"

He tried to jerk his hand free, but to no avail. If he had tried to pull out the pillar next to him, out of its place- the effect would have been the same. It was a very strong hold on his arm. He glared down at his captor and was met with an equally intimidating glare. He realized, violence and threat were of no use. He was himself being subjected to enough of those. So, he tried to change his tactics.

"Listen, you should really think this through. I don't think it's really a good idea." His plea fell on deaf ears. "It really is not a good idea... listen to me... why don't you let me go?"

His captor gave him a bored look and gestured to the other person standing close by. The other fellow came forward and grabbed his free arm. Now, he was pinned down even more.

They dragged him further into the dungeon and all he could do, was try to wrestle against the two heavy weights. It was a tough fight against the two overgrown bullies but he had decided not to go down without a fight. He tried everything from aggression to appealing to begging and yet, the inhuman people around him were unmoved.

Time was running out fast and he could not do anything other than perhaps getting his shoulders torn apart- at the most. And then, came the moment of truth. A humongous cauldron, almost reaching up to his shoulders in height came into the view. It took up almost half of the room in width. A huge fire was lit under the vessel. It was the only source of light in the room as dark as his future and yet, the heat radiating from it was so strong that it boiled not only the contents of the huge vessel but his blood as well. The sight was repulsive. He desperately wanted to get away and in one last attempt, tried to wriggle free of the iron grip.

"My dear Aman, you have exactly two hours to prepare a hundred gallons of sambar today. Now, get to work before you get drowned in the same vessel." A villainous laughter followed the statement and a huge ladle was thrust into his hands. He was ruthlessly pushed forward.

He stumbled and fell on hard ground. His knees took the brunt and he winced. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself sprawled face down, his nose buried amidst sheets of papers. He nervously looked around him and to his astonishment, found himself in a brightly lit room. He risked a glance over his head and to his great relief, realized that he had just stumbled out of his bed. It was just another one of those bad dreams.

"Goodness gracious! Not again!" He sighed and buried his head into his hands. He stayed like that for another moment and then turned on his back, still on the floor.

The morning sunlight filtered through his still-drawn curtains, creating bright patterns on the floor and highlighted the charts spread out around him. But Aman lingered on for a little while. He had had such a long night, he barely had any energy or will to get up and start yet another boring day, filled with mundane routine stuff.

Aman had worked on the group project throughout the night, all alone. Yes, it was supposed to be a group project, but as always, he was the one to get the job done on behalf of all of them. They always got away with reasons. Valid reasons. This time around also, they had an iron clad reason to not work on their last project together. Christmas holidays were approaching and they all had their waiting families to go to. Aman on the other hand, was quite free of any such obligations. No one was waiting for him to get back home. Oh wait! There was this uncle of his, who would have definitely liked a visit from Aman. After all, Aman would have proved to be a very useful hand behind the breakfast counter at their little old diner.

At the thought of breakfast, his stomach groaned and Aman willed his reluctant eyes to open up. His eyes instinctively reached for the leftover pizza- his dinner from the previous night but he channelized his energy to the other body parts. With great difficulty, he stood up and picked up the sheets and charts that he had prepared. He arranged everything neatly in a stack on his study table. Reaching out beyond the table, he pulled away the curtains and opened the window. Two colourful butterflies breezed past him into the room. The budding entomologist in him smiled jovially at the pleasant sight.

"Good morning to you two! Let's just hope my day is as bright as you look."

He moved to the adjacent bed and smoothened away the creases that reminded him of his disturbing dream again. He knew it wasn't just a dream. It was a foreboding – of something bad waiting for him back at home. He walked over to the door and glanced at his timetable. Nothing great awaited him for the day. Holiday season had kicked in and classes were off. Laboratory too was closed down. In short, there was nothing much to look forward to.

Turning, he glanced at his room once again, where Aman had lodged himself for the past two years. He proudly glanced over the diagrams and life cycles of various insects that he had drawn on the walls. His batchmates were so envious of him, that he could remember so many diagrams by heart and also of his skills as an artist. He was lucky that he wasn't asked to shift out of this nest, though. The tons of books and notes that he had accumulated, over the last two years of his course- he had no clue how he was ever going to pack them when he had to move out at the end of this academic year. That end or a new beginning, as Aman liked to look at it was, when he would finally receive his Master's degree in Entomology from a reputed institute. But that day was still three months away. With a sigh, he got up and willed himself to go through another dull and boring day.

Getting hold of his toothbrush and bucket, he headed out towards the common bath area. He lazily walked up to the washroom, for he knew there was no point in hurrying. All the other students had already left for the holidays. The entire hostel was empty and he was home alone so to speak.

..........

Aman strolled through the meticulously planted jungles on the university premises, as he reflected on the very long day that he had had. Long and tiring, but definitely worth all his efforts. As part of his scholarship program, he taught English and science to the elementary school kids at the local Government school. The experience was nothing short of enriching. He found a sense of empowerment whenever he answered queries from his students which more than often were not restricted to their limited scope of studies. For last few days, that was the only good time of the day and he actually looked forward to spending time with the kids.

Today had been his last day at the school. They were taking a break for fifteen days. Thus, stripping him off of the last possible reason that he could think of; for not going back home to his oh-so-adorable Uncle and his thriving place of a diner.

Truth be told, his Uncle was anything but adorable and the diner was a sorry state of affairs that Aman wanted nothing to do with. So, for as long as Aman could remember, he had kept himself away from his so-called home. Since his Uncle had point blank refused to channelize any kind of interest or money towards his life goals, Aman had taken charge of the affairs himself, that too at a very young age. Throughout his school and college years Aman bagged scholarships. Whenever possible, he participated and won in various inter school and inter college competitions, making a small fortune in cash prizes.

But things were about to change in his life. In a few months' time, there would be no more scholarships or competitions to look forward to. He would be taking on the world, all by himself. He had to fend for himself and carve a respectable place in the society, far away from his Uncle and his ideas of an ideal life and vocation, which was... well, let's not dwell on it since we are going to anyways experience it for a few days!

Fifteen days! Half a month. He couldn't have cared less about living all alone on his own in his hostel on the University premises if it had not been for the fact that the mess would also be closed. If at all cooking had been allowed here in his room, he would have gladly stayed back. But then, the cost of takeaways and home deliveries had already started making heavy dents in his pockets. Compared to the bill amounts of food for one person, two times a day for fifteen days, a return ticket to home and back was definitely cheaper! So, grudgingly and against his better judgment, Aman undertook the train journey from BHU Varanasi to the hills of Madikeri. At least, he would spend four and a half days in travelling. That still left him with ten long days to spend behind a counter... and the clock had just started ticking!