This is next in the line of stories.....after a few days of my first story i wrote this one..this was a reflection of many toughts that were disturbing me.....a lot many ideas which culminated into this short story...my 2nd creation....
Life is Beautiful:....
Life really seemed to be beautiful to me. I was waiting in USA Consulate in Chennai to get my visa processed. Wait, before we go further, let me introduce myself. My name is Amir Riaz. I hail from Visakhapatnam. I had finished my graduation and now I had obtained admission in a reputed university in United States of America for my MBA. All the procedural formalities had been completed. Money was never a problem for me. My father had earned enough for me and few more generations to come. All that remained was the issuing of visa and soon I would be flying to the land of my dreams. I was on the threshold of realizing my dream. A whole new world awaited me.
I was shaken out of my reverie by a shrill cry. I saw a masked man holding a gun to a young boy and ordering others not to move. For a few moments I could not fathom anything. Then I could make out that this was some sort of terrorist attack. This guy was holding the boy at gun point and was moving towards the main entrance. Everybody stood still not able to decide what to do. The security guards were shouting at the guy to drop the gun. They were hesitating to shoot due to concern of safety of the boy and other people. That masked man was moving along with boy towards the door.
As the guy passed me a sudden urge came upon me to do something. A voice inside told me to attack the guy. All the thinking modes in me snapped shut and I did not know what I was doing. I threw myself at the man. He let go a few bullets and they whizzed past me. I don’t know if it was my good luck or providence, but the bullets missed be just by centimeters. Soon that guy and me were rolling on the ground fighting for the gun. Then the sound of gunshots filled the room and our struggle stopped.
Soon I was a hero. All the news papers, TV channels and all sorts of media were feting me. In between the entire melee I had shot the guy. Later investigations had revealed that it was a part of a much planned attack. My action had foiled it and rest of them were shot dead and some of them were captured. A ghastly attack on the consulate had been prevented by my bravery. Many news papers and TV channels interviewed me and featured me prominently. I was invited to chat shows, news panels and all other sort of things. They even recommended my name for bravery awards.
All this celebration lasted for a month or so. Soon the media forgot me and moved on to new stories as usual. All the revelry died down. But one thing refused to die down. It was the feeling that I had a killed a human being. This kept on haunting me. I was the sort of person who abhorred violence. Even the violence depicted in the films used to put me off. So the fact that I had killed someone kept troubling me. I had acted on the spur of the moment. But now the incident kept coming back to haunt me. I had frightening dreams in which that terrorist kept appearing. I lost the peace of my mind. My friends and relatives tried consoling me saying that I had only killed someone who was going to do something evil. But that did not help my cause. I did not think that was any justification for my killing him. I had taken a human life and this feeling kept troubling and torturing me.
This entire hubbub had resulted in my visa being delayed and my trip to USA was postponed by a few months.. I had lost interest in all other things of life. Soon I had grown a beard and I wore a ragged look. My parents were worried about me. I decided I had to do something otherwise all these thoughts would drive me mad. I decided to put these ghosts to rest. I contacted the police department and gathered details about the person I had killed. I had seen his face after the incident in Chennai. He had a pretty innocent face of a teenager. He really was a teenager. He was nineteen years old. His name was Abdur Rehman. He hailed from Hyderabad. He had run away from his house few months back after the riots in Gujarat and had trained with the terrorists before he was sent on this mission. I took his address and started for Hyderabad. I decided not to shave myself so that the beard would help me hide my identity from his people. I took a large amount of money which I intended to give to his people. I did not know if that would help mitigate my feelings but I decided to give it anyway.
I reached Hyderabad and went in search of his house. It was quite a task searching for his house. Wherever I enquired about his address I was greeted with queer looks and suspicion. With great difficulty I managed to locate his house. It was quite a stereotype of a middle class house. When I knocked on the doors a middle aged lady opened the door. When I enquired whether it was Abdur Rehman’s house she gave me look which seemed to me like it had a mixture of anger and vexation. She looked pointedly at me and asked “Are you from the police? How many times will you people bother us? We had told you all that we know. What else do you want from us?” She was on the verge of breaking down. I explained to her that I was not from the police. I told her that I was Rehman’s friend and I had come to give them something he had wanted me to give them. On hearing this, the expression on her face changed to one of happiness and she welcomed me into the house.
The house was not much furnished. Barring a few chairs, there was not much furniture in the house. It was a pretty small house having a couple of rooms. The lady asked me to sit on a chair and she rushed in to fetch water for me. She shouted to someone inside the kitchen to cook lunch for me. She rushed hither and thither and served me some sweets. Then she started enquiring about her son, about what he had done all the days he had been away from home. I managed to make up some stories about him. She showed me his photos taken in his childhood. This guy had a very innocent look on his face. She showed me different medals and awards he had won since his childhood. This fellow had quite excelled in his academics. A very intelligent life had been cut short by me. This realization sent further spasms of pain in to my heart. She spoke lovingly of her son. She told me stories about his school, the way he used to talk, the way he used to sing songs. She said that she had stopped seeing daily soap operas now because her son did not like them and he used to scold them always. She told me that I was his first friend to come searching for him after his death. All others seemed to have thrown him out of their conscience. Only police came to question them about him. Soon she was crying and deploring why she could not stop her son from going the way of violence and to his death. I was unable to speak a word. A mother’s anguish at the loss of her son was too much for me to bear. The fact that I was the reason for that anguish did not make things easier for me. The lady got up and went into the kitchen crying. I sat there transfixed not knowing what to do. A delicate voice shook me out of my dilemma. It called out “Bhaiyya”. I looked at the direction of the voice. A teenaged girl in purdah was standing beside the door. She said “ Bhaiyya ,I am Rehman’s sister. Did he tell anything for me before he went away?” I was at the loss of words. “ Yes, Yes,” I stammered “ He told me to tell you that he loved you very much and he asked you to care of your mother and father after him”. She sighed and said “My brother used to be the most active person in our house. He always used to keep us in splits with his jokes. After he has gone all the happiness in our house is gone. Now only silence reigns in our house.” What she said seemed to be true. A pall of gloom hung about the house.
Then an elderly person walked into the house. He was very simply dressed. A sort of person you would very commonly come across on the road and you would perhaps not throw a second glance at him. “My father” the girl said and went inside the room. I got up and introduced myself to him. He greeted me affectionately. He had a very gentle voice and he spoke very steadily. He told that he worked as a clerk in a government department. He enquired about the purpose of my visit. When I gave him the money he looked at me suspiciously and said “If you are from the organization which made my son a terrorist and want to pay us this money for that you can leave my house right now” There was a firmness in his voice when he said that. I explained to him that I was not from any terrorist organization. I told him that his son had worked in my uncle’s shop before he went away. And my uncle had wanted to help Rehman’s family when he came to know of his fate. I had made up this story a short while ago. But he replied that he took pride in his work and he did not want to accept anyone’s charity. For all I could try I could not convince him to accept the money. By then the lady came and invited me to have lunch.
I had a very sumptuous lunch. It was a very simple serving but it was quite tasty. Their affection overwhelmed me. They treated me as one of their own. I was touched by the sincerity in their voices, the purity in the love they showered on me. When the lunch was over I chatted for a while with Rehman’s father. He spoke of how he had hoped that his son would do great things in life; how he had dreamt that his son would achieve great heights in pursuit of academic excellence. But now his death had put paid to all those hopes. Then it was time for me to leave. I took the blessings of the lady, bade the young girl goodbye and took leave of them. But the Rehman’s father insisted on accompanying me up to the station. We took a taxi and started for the station.
All the way I kept thinking about them. Rehman’s face kept flashing before my eyes. I had destroyed an object of a father’s hope, a mother’s love and a sister’s affection. I had destroyed hopes, dreams, and aspirations of a whole family. I had committed murder, not one but effectively three. My mind was in a state of turmoil. I realized the magnitude of the folly I had committed. I did not know what I could do. When we reached the station we got down and walked into the station. I decided that I had something to do before I left Hyderabad.
I walked up to Rehman’s father and looked into his eyes and told him the whole truth. I told him that I was the one who was killed his son. He looked at me benignly and said that he knew that. He also told me that everyone in his house knew that and it was in fact his wife who had first recognized him. This shocked me. I was dumbfounded at their kindness. I asked him “How could you people be so kind and affectionate to someone who had killed your son, someone who had destroyed your dreams, hopes, and aspirations? How could you forgive me?” The man looked at me with gentle smile and said “Who am I to forgive you? What folly have you committed for us to forgive you? It was not you who had killed my son. My son had died the day he took up the gun. The people who had propagated politics of hate for their selfish ends have killed my son. People who have killed fellow human beings just because they belong to another religion have killed my son. People who take advantage of the anger of downtrodden to fuel their agenda of destruction have killed my son. My son has met the fate of the person who chooses the wrong way. He had to die. You just did your duty. You saved the life of many people by your act of courage. I admire your bravery. I am proud of you, son.” This was the ultimate accolade I could get for my act on that fateful day. All the adulations and bravery awards did not matter to me. This was without parallel.
As I was coming back to Vizag on train, I realized that peace reigned in my mind. I had realized the real essence of beauty of life. My life was really beautiful.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Dreamer : A Short Story
DREAMER .......
" Venky get up and clean the tables" Subbiah's baritone voice rang through the kitchen causing Venky to jump out of his sleep. He got up cursing the college canteen owner who had shaken him out of dream when he was just about to eat the mangoes he had stolen out of Veeru’s grove.
Venky was the cleaner in Subbiah's canteen. His name was actually Venkatiah but after coming to the city he had shortened it to Venky. He liked being called Venky since it sort of sounded trendy. It had been only a month since he had joined the job. Before that village had been his world. With its groves and fields where he used to roam with abandon, it had made him a part of it. But the city with all its variegated hues and multifaceted features made him seem trivial and out of place. He had lost his parents in a fire accident when he was an infant . His grandmother had brought him up.When he was around nineteen years old she too passed away. After her death one of his neighbours sent him to Subbiah who took pity on him and gave him a job in his canteen.
Venky was not exactly a good lookin guy, but he wasnot ugly either. He had a earnest smile which he used to flash often. He was quite thin for his age but he had a great deal of stamina and agility in his work. People say God bestows upon everyone some unique skill or talent as they call it. Venky had also come across people saying this but he could not decide what he was good at. Yes he was better at doing some things than others. He could play cricket better than football. He could swim better than most of the boys at his village. He used to sing to his hearts content but he wasnot exactly blessed with a mellifluous voice. He did not excel sufficiently in anything that he could claim that his future lay in it.
But there was one thing he did often and he did it pretty well. He used to day dream a lot. I say that he did it well because he really did let his imagination flourish. It was not like most others dreams,he used to construct his reverie to amazing detail. And he did not restrict his dreams about anything. Like after a day spent in playing cricket, especially if he managed a decent innings with bat or a tidy spell with the ball in the gully cicket he played with his friends, he would sit and fantasize himself playing in the test side against some country. He would constructing his fantasy to such details that he would imagine himself playing shot after shot and he would conjure all the score details including the extras. He had great enjoyment in imagining himself playing a shot against a bowler and he would also imagine the commentary in the match. And his dreams were not constrained to cricket .It could depend on how he spent his day.
His new job introduced him to a whole new world. It was a new experience to him. All the students , the way they moved around in their gizmo cars and bikes, the sophistication with they behaved was all a new experience for him. He had a keen sense of observation. He used to observe at the canteen different kinds of people. He used to admire the group of boys who always moved around wearing short t -shirts and flaunting their muscles. He wondered at the bespectacled student who always used to have his head buried in a book. He was amused at a group of girls always giggling among themselves. He used to see freshers who used to come into the canteen with frightened expressions on their faces like they were entering on to an exploration into a unknown cave. He also got used to boys settling down in a corner where they would not be visible to others and puff away their cigarettes. He used to observe all sorts of people in the canteen as he quietly went about his work of cleaning the tables. This job had changed his life. But one thing still was unchanged. He still day dreamed , only change was he built castles in air about new things.
Venky went about his routine daily without giving any one a chance to complain about his work. It was pretty much the same cleaning the tables, helping around in petty works in kitchen and cleaning dishes. Then one day he saw her . No it was not "love at first sight" stuff you find in the movies. He just was impressed with her. As he saw her he felt like looking at her again . Then he felt like looking at her from close quarters. More he saw her more he felt like seeing her. No it was not her beauty that captivated him ,he had seen more beautiful girls and he had forgotten them after they passed by. She was different , she had a certain gentleness about her. The way she moved, it seemed to him like a delicate branch swaying in the breeze. The way she talked , her voice was not harsh nor was it meek it was sweet like a lullaby. The way she used to look at something it was very fleeting glance like a muslin cloth slipping over a marble statue. Everything about her seemed poetic to him. She reminded him of the angels in the stories told by his grandma.
In a few days she was all he could think of. He used to wait all the day waiting for the moment she would step into the canteen. He used to feel a surge of energy on seeing her. At the same time he was mesmerized by her. He used to move around her the time she was in canteen. He would go to bed disappointed on the days she failed to turn up. He went home dancing on the day she asked him to get the tomato sauce. He could gather from the conversation of the group of students that her name was Gita and she was a student of science group. He observed she always used to order the costliest items and she used to tip the waiters quite generously. He could make out that she came from a well-to -do family. He used to observe every little detail about her like the way she ate ,the way she drank water and so on.
He knew at the bottom of his heart that all this madness meant nothing. But he used to sit and imagine himself talking to her, saying all the sweet things to her, singing songs to her and he used to feel exhilarated. He never used to lust after her. He sort of worshipped her, he deified her. He kept her on such a pedestal that he knew he would not be able to reach her. Yet dreams were his only solace, he derived his joy and happiness from them. His world of dreams was the only place where he enjoyed himself. All the free time he got was spent in conjuring up a new fantasy or re-experiencing an old one.He used to think of ways he would go and talk to her, the way he would impress her and the situations in which she would come to know about his merits and fall in love with her. But such situations never came up and it should not be surprising because if such things would happen in real life no one would perhaps imagine them in the first place. The moment he saw her he felt himself shrinking. He would feel so small in her presence. He used to be overawed by her presence.
Life moved on such terms. One day he watched an Eastman color film in which as is the usual formula the hero rescues the heroine from the goons and love used to sprout between them. As his wont he sat down after the film in a corner in the kitchen and started building his castles. He imagined that she would be waiting in the bus stop for the bus. Then a few goons would come and start eve teasing her. She would be feeling harassed. Then he would make his appearance like a hero and start beating the goons. He further went on imagining. He would kick one of them in his stomach and punch the other in his face. He would pick up a third one and throw him to the ground. Soon all the people would join him and soon beat those guys to pulp. Gita would look at him with admiration. He would go up to her and ask her if she was ok. And that would start their acquaintance which would soon blossom into a beautiful relationship. And so on he dreamed.
It was time to go home and he packed his belongings and started for his home. He stayed with Seethaiah the chief cook. As he approached the bus stop along with Seethaiah he saw Gita there. He was reminded of his latest daydream. He smiled to himself. Then he saw a few goons approaching her .His first reaction was one of shock. Then as he envisaged they started harassing her. He did not know what to do. For all his fantasizing Venky knew he was not exactly the muscular honcho who could bash up 3 to 4 people at a time. Then he realized that what was happening was the exact way he had fantasized. Perhaps God had decided to make his dream a reality. If that was the case the rest of his dream would also go the way he had dreamt of. This thought filled him with a great deal of energy. He dropped his belongings And he ran at the goons .He kicked one of them and punched the other one. "YES", he thought, "this is the way the dream went ,let me go on further" He tried to lift the third one but he couldnot move him. Instead the guy grabbed him. Soon all other people in the bus stop were rushing at them. Venky thought " Leave the aberration , the other people would help me beat these goons" . But the people started beating him instead. This was not the way the dream was supposed to go. All of them were raining blows on him. He saw Gita then. The look on her face was not one of admiration, but of shock and disgust. He just could not understand. As he was thinking her image began dimming before his eyes. Soon he passed out.
When he came back to his senses, he was on a hospital bed. He was bandaged at several places. He looked around; his eyes were searching for Gita .He could find only Seethaiah standing in the room. He mustered his voice and asked Seethaiah what had happened. Seethaiah flew into a rage and shouted back at him "What do you mean by asking me? what happened to you? Why did you rush at the students and start beating them up? They were after all harmlessly discussing their studies. What made you to pick up a fight with them? All the other students would not sit and watch if you were beating their fellow students. Subbaiah has asked me to hand over your belongings and the money for the work you have done till now. There that finishes my work I am going .You go your way after these people discharge you".After handing over his belongings Seethaiah went away.
Venky realized that after all there were no goons. He had still been in his dreams as he mistook the students for the goons and tried his hand at bashing them up. He had been living so much in his dreams that he had failed to distinguish between dreams and reality. Now life in all its reality stared him in the face. He had lost his job. He had no one in this world. He had no place to go. He could not go back to that college after all this hullabaloo. But more than all this what rankled him was the thought that he could never see Gita again. That thought made him mad, caused him a lot of pain more than what his wounds caused him. He spent his days at the hospital thinking about her. He always used to keep looking at the entrance in the hope that she would come. Not only her but no one ever came to see him.
After a few days they discharged him from the hospital. As he limped out on his way out from the hospital, he realized that he had no one to take him and he had nowhere to go. When he came out of the hospital he got the shock of his life .For there on the road Gita was standing holding a flower bouquet in her hands .He slowly moved towards her. When he came up to her she leaned forward and said " I know why you behaved like that on that day at the bus stop. It was your love and devotion for me which made you to fight like that. All the people mistook you ." Then after a pause she looked into his eyes and said " But I understand you and your love for me".Then she suddenly shouted "honk" .Venky could not fathom it. Why did she shout like that in between such a sweet moment? He looked into her eyes . Then she shouted again "Honk honk honk" .This time so loudly that Venky threw his head back and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes he saw not Gita but a large vehicle standing before him on the road and the driver was honking his horn loudly and shouting angrily at him. Then Venky realized " Oh My God! I was dreaming again".
" Venky get up and clean the tables" Subbiah's baritone voice rang through the kitchen causing Venky to jump out of his sleep. He got up cursing the college canteen owner who had shaken him out of dream when he was just about to eat the mangoes he had stolen out of Veeru’s grove.
Venky was the cleaner in Subbiah's canteen. His name was actually Venkatiah but after coming to the city he had shortened it to Venky. He liked being called Venky since it sort of sounded trendy. It had been only a month since he had joined the job. Before that village had been his world. With its groves and fields where he used to roam with abandon, it had made him a part of it. But the city with all its variegated hues and multifaceted features made him seem trivial and out of place. He had lost his parents in a fire accident when he was an infant . His grandmother had brought him up.When he was around nineteen years old she too passed away. After her death one of his neighbours sent him to Subbiah who took pity on him and gave him a job in his canteen.
Venky was not exactly a good lookin guy, but he wasnot ugly either. He had a earnest smile which he used to flash often. He was quite thin for his age but he had a great deal of stamina and agility in his work. People say God bestows upon everyone some unique skill or talent as they call it. Venky had also come across people saying this but he could not decide what he was good at. Yes he was better at doing some things than others. He could play cricket better than football. He could swim better than most of the boys at his village. He used to sing to his hearts content but he wasnot exactly blessed with a mellifluous voice. He did not excel sufficiently in anything that he could claim that his future lay in it.
But there was one thing he did often and he did it pretty well. He used to day dream a lot. I say that he did it well because he really did let his imagination flourish. It was not like most others dreams,he used to construct his reverie to amazing detail. And he did not restrict his dreams about anything. Like after a day spent in playing cricket, especially if he managed a decent innings with bat or a tidy spell with the ball in the gully cicket he played with his friends, he would sit and fantasize himself playing in the test side against some country. He would constructing his fantasy to such details that he would imagine himself playing shot after shot and he would conjure all the score details including the extras. He had great enjoyment in imagining himself playing a shot against a bowler and he would also imagine the commentary in the match. And his dreams were not constrained to cricket .It could depend on how he spent his day.
His new job introduced him to a whole new world. It was a new experience to him. All the students , the way they moved around in their gizmo cars and bikes, the sophistication with they behaved was all a new experience for him. He had a keen sense of observation. He used to observe at the canteen different kinds of people. He used to admire the group of boys who always moved around wearing short t -shirts and flaunting their muscles. He wondered at the bespectacled student who always used to have his head buried in a book. He was amused at a group of girls always giggling among themselves. He used to see freshers who used to come into the canteen with frightened expressions on their faces like they were entering on to an exploration into a unknown cave. He also got used to boys settling down in a corner where they would not be visible to others and puff away their cigarettes. He used to observe all sorts of people in the canteen as he quietly went about his work of cleaning the tables. This job had changed his life. But one thing still was unchanged. He still day dreamed , only change was he built castles in air about new things.
Venky went about his routine daily without giving any one a chance to complain about his work. It was pretty much the same cleaning the tables, helping around in petty works in kitchen and cleaning dishes. Then one day he saw her . No it was not "love at first sight" stuff you find in the movies. He just was impressed with her. As he saw her he felt like looking at her again . Then he felt like looking at her from close quarters. More he saw her more he felt like seeing her. No it was not her beauty that captivated him ,he had seen more beautiful girls and he had forgotten them after they passed by. She was different , she had a certain gentleness about her. The way she moved, it seemed to him like a delicate branch swaying in the breeze. The way she talked , her voice was not harsh nor was it meek it was sweet like a lullaby. The way she used to look at something it was very fleeting glance like a muslin cloth slipping over a marble statue. Everything about her seemed poetic to him. She reminded him of the angels in the stories told by his grandma.
In a few days she was all he could think of. He used to wait all the day waiting for the moment she would step into the canteen. He used to feel a surge of energy on seeing her. At the same time he was mesmerized by her. He used to move around her the time she was in canteen. He would go to bed disappointed on the days she failed to turn up. He went home dancing on the day she asked him to get the tomato sauce. He could gather from the conversation of the group of students that her name was Gita and she was a student of science group. He observed she always used to order the costliest items and she used to tip the waiters quite generously. He could make out that she came from a well-to -do family. He used to observe every little detail about her like the way she ate ,the way she drank water and so on.
He knew at the bottom of his heart that all this madness meant nothing. But he used to sit and imagine himself talking to her, saying all the sweet things to her, singing songs to her and he used to feel exhilarated. He never used to lust after her. He sort of worshipped her, he deified her. He kept her on such a pedestal that he knew he would not be able to reach her. Yet dreams were his only solace, he derived his joy and happiness from them. His world of dreams was the only place where he enjoyed himself. All the free time he got was spent in conjuring up a new fantasy or re-experiencing an old one.He used to think of ways he would go and talk to her, the way he would impress her and the situations in which she would come to know about his merits and fall in love with her. But such situations never came up and it should not be surprising because if such things would happen in real life no one would perhaps imagine them in the first place. The moment he saw her he felt himself shrinking. He would feel so small in her presence. He used to be overawed by her presence.
Life moved on such terms. One day he watched an Eastman color film in which as is the usual formula the hero rescues the heroine from the goons and love used to sprout between them. As his wont he sat down after the film in a corner in the kitchen and started building his castles. He imagined that she would be waiting in the bus stop for the bus. Then a few goons would come and start eve teasing her. She would be feeling harassed. Then he would make his appearance like a hero and start beating the goons. He further went on imagining. He would kick one of them in his stomach and punch the other in his face. He would pick up a third one and throw him to the ground. Soon all the people would join him and soon beat those guys to pulp. Gita would look at him with admiration. He would go up to her and ask her if she was ok. And that would start their acquaintance which would soon blossom into a beautiful relationship. And so on he dreamed.
It was time to go home and he packed his belongings and started for his home. He stayed with Seethaiah the chief cook. As he approached the bus stop along with Seethaiah he saw Gita there. He was reminded of his latest daydream. He smiled to himself. Then he saw a few goons approaching her .His first reaction was one of shock. Then as he envisaged they started harassing her. He did not know what to do. For all his fantasizing Venky knew he was not exactly the muscular honcho who could bash up 3 to 4 people at a time. Then he realized that what was happening was the exact way he had fantasized. Perhaps God had decided to make his dream a reality. If that was the case the rest of his dream would also go the way he had dreamt of. This thought filled him with a great deal of energy. He dropped his belongings And he ran at the goons .He kicked one of them and punched the other one. "YES", he thought, "this is the way the dream went ,let me go on further" He tried to lift the third one but he couldnot move him. Instead the guy grabbed him. Soon all other people in the bus stop were rushing at them. Venky thought " Leave the aberration , the other people would help me beat these goons" . But the people started beating him instead. This was not the way the dream was supposed to go. All of them were raining blows on him. He saw Gita then. The look on her face was not one of admiration, but of shock and disgust. He just could not understand. As he was thinking her image began dimming before his eyes. Soon he passed out.
When he came back to his senses, he was on a hospital bed. He was bandaged at several places. He looked around; his eyes were searching for Gita .He could find only Seethaiah standing in the room. He mustered his voice and asked Seethaiah what had happened. Seethaiah flew into a rage and shouted back at him "What do you mean by asking me? what happened to you? Why did you rush at the students and start beating them up? They were after all harmlessly discussing their studies. What made you to pick up a fight with them? All the other students would not sit and watch if you were beating their fellow students. Subbaiah has asked me to hand over your belongings and the money for the work you have done till now. There that finishes my work I am going .You go your way after these people discharge you".After handing over his belongings Seethaiah went away.
Venky realized that after all there were no goons. He had still been in his dreams as he mistook the students for the goons and tried his hand at bashing them up. He had been living so much in his dreams that he had failed to distinguish between dreams and reality. Now life in all its reality stared him in the face. He had lost his job. He had no one in this world. He had no place to go. He could not go back to that college after all this hullabaloo. But more than all this what rankled him was the thought that he could never see Gita again. That thought made him mad, caused him a lot of pain more than what his wounds caused him. He spent his days at the hospital thinking about her. He always used to keep looking at the entrance in the hope that she would come. Not only her but no one ever came to see him.
After a few days they discharged him from the hospital. As he limped out on his way out from the hospital, he realized that he had no one to take him and he had nowhere to go. When he came out of the hospital he got the shock of his life .For there on the road Gita was standing holding a flower bouquet in her hands .He slowly moved towards her. When he came up to her she leaned forward and said " I know why you behaved like that on that day at the bus stop. It was your love and devotion for me which made you to fight like that. All the people mistook you ." Then after a pause she looked into his eyes and said " But I understand you and your love for me".Then she suddenly shouted "honk" .Venky could not fathom it. Why did she shout like that in between such a sweet moment? He looked into her eyes . Then she shouted again "Honk honk honk" .This time so loudly that Venky threw his head back and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes he saw not Gita but a large vehicle standing before him on the road and the driver was honking his horn loudly and shouting angrily at him. Then Venky realized " Oh My God! I was dreaming again".
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