No More Bullying

story by Sameer Raote

It’s evening time in a normal apartment space. There are snapshots of a married couple and their chubby son on the fridge. The photos span over many years. The place of all the photos captured is same apartment but one can point out which is the latest based on furniture in the photos that matches the current arrangement.

At present the boy seems to be in his early teens. Among the photos there is a yellow paper note written in red ink. It’s a message from the mother to her son “We have to go out after work and so will return late in the night.”

Suddenly there’s someone at the door. By the sound it seems that the person is in a hurry to unlock the door with a set of clanging keys. A fat boy that resembles with the latest photo on the fridge, quickly enters and closes the door behind him, loudly.

He’s wearing a school uniform, light blue shirt and grey pant. He has a bag-pack and a navy blue sweater in his right hand. There are bruises on his arms and legs. His uniform is soiled at many places and shirt pocket torn out hanging by the last thread.

He seems very scared as he leans on the main door. He is able to hear sounds and voices of 3-4 boys shouting/cursing as they walk up the stairs, left to right. The voices are familiar to this boy and hearing them scares him even more. He shuts his eyes tight and puts his full body weight on to door to avoid it from budging.

Sometime later a phone rings with a reminder alarm. The boy resting on the door wakes up. He reads the reminder that says ‘Music Class’. He turns off the alarm and the screen goes dark. In the reflection he sees his muddy face and bursts into tears.

Water is flowing uncontrollably from his eyes as he puts on the earphones connected to his mobile. He presses on the screen to play a random playlist. As he carefully listens to the song, instead of calming him down he cries even louder.

While the song continues, after ensuring that there are no voices coming from outside, by placing his ear on the door, he gets up. He stands in front of a full length mirror in the kitchen to see his current state. He’s in a mess. Taking off the shirt he checks its condition. Blue shirt has turned half brown, the torn pocket and at the back there’s a black ink writing that says ‘kick-me’.

Suddenly he goes in the state of panic as he runs to the kitchen sink to try wash off the dirt and the ink marks on his shirt. Then tries to stitch back the pocket. His hands are shivering but still he tries to fix the pocket as original as possible. The pocket is back in place, still he isn’t satisfied. Suddenly he throws the shirt in one corner with a roar of disappointment. When he looks at the shirt where it landed, his eyes fall on the society’s Annual Magazine.

Next we see cut-outs from the sports section of the magazine. The photos he picks and sticks on the wall adjacent to the TV is of four specific boys of around his age. The way he stares at the clippings, his eyes are full of anger. He stands perfectly still staring at the boys until suddenly he gives an evil smile, as if hit by a naughty idea.

Later, the door that says ‘Keep Out Parents’ opens and the boy walks out. He is wearing a red and black tracksuit. There’s a loud noise in background of a running washing machine. There are some cartoon posters in his hand that he crushes into a ball, aims and throws it in an open trash can in the kitchen. On the computer he clicks on a folder that also reads ‘Keep Out Parents’. Inside there are audio playlist with titles ‘Happy’, ‘Sad’, ‘Fear’ and ‘Funny’. To that he adds another, typing R…A…G…E. A loud music starts to play in background.

Later, the sound of washing machine is suppressed by loud music that continues being played from the computer speakers. The boy is exercising energetically as he imitates what a muscular man is doing on the TV screen. The sunlight coming inside the room has reduced. It’s starting to get dark and yet the lights have not been turned ON. The boy is sweating a lot, the exercise he is doing is very tiring still there is no sign of him stopping.

Finally it’s dark in the apartment as the first light switched ON is in the kitchen. The boy walks out of the bathroom in a fresh set of clothes with a towel around his neck. His hair is still wet. He feels his empty groaning stomach and so he approaches the fridge. On it he sees a note left by his mother. It says that she has kept for him his favourite cheese burst pizza and pastries in fridge for if and when he feels like eating. He doesn’t seem excited by reading it. Opening the fridge door he looks for food.

Next we see the pizza and pastries in the trash meanwhile he is taking the last few bites of vegetable salad and boiled egg whites. Once done he puts the plates in the sink. He is full of energy as he quickly walks to wall where he has pasted the photos. Clenching his fist he punches hard on a photo. He screams with pain squeezing his fist trying to suppress the pain. Still he smiles and punches the wall again. He keeps on punching till his knuckles become red. He enjoys staring at the shreds of photo on the wall.

Suddenly he hears footsteps outside the door. As he places his right ear on the door he listens to familiar voices, this time going right to left. The voices are familiar to the boy as it builds to his excitement. He walks to the laundry area and takes out clothes from the dryer. He wears the same uniform he came home wearing and then walks to the main door. But then a meter away he stops, walks to the kitchen. He picks up the garbage bag, smiles at his mother’s photo on the fridge and then again approaches the main door.

Later, the door opens wide as the boy walks in and switches ON the light. The neatly dressed boy who walked out earlier is again in a mess. His shirt is torn again, soiled muddy and there are bruises on his hands and legs, more than before. But there’s a difference this time, he has left the main door wide open, there’s no fear on his face. Instead there’s a smile that marks an unbelievable achievement of his life.

TO BE CONTINUED

written by Sameer Raote

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