DISCLAIMER
The names, events, characters, and settings depicted in the novel are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual incidents or people, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
STORYLINE
“Topper”: Doesn’t one such topper seem lucky because they are said to be a teacher’s pet? However, a topper’s life invites challenges as well, interestingly, from the same teacher!
Have you ever wondered how one such so-called topper feels when they aren’t encouraged in the same way as the other toppers out there?
Have you ever thought of the deadly cloud of thoughts floating across a topper’s brain, impacting their academics and life, when their teachers always ignore and look down upon the topper’s accomplishments?
Imagine you are one of the toppers of your class. The teachers establish eye contact with the other toppers but you. The teachers appreciate the other toppers for every little deed while they call you off. The teachers always ask them where they left it in the previous class but never you.
How do you feel? Does it hurt?
A topper has always been excluded from their regular batchmates. This scenario is nothing unusual, due to the natural psychological boundary.
Unfortunately, the bias teachers often tend to create among toppers marks the worst impact on the life of an ambitious student.
This novel throws light on the hardships that one such topper, Chanda Reddy experiences throughout her high school. Will Yuvan and Eka join their hands together in this single-handed revolt by Chanda to help her seek justice?
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CHAPTER-1
BIAS
“Sai Prabhavathi Public School”, announced the bold white letters engraved on the dark blue board marking the summit of a four-floor tall white building. A plain road of finished gravel partitioned the block of classrooms from the spacious playground resembling that of a desert with voluminous fine sand embracing its every little square foot. There lay a netted throwball court supported by two poles at its ends constituting the epicenter while a basketball and a handball court on the two corners.
Although the building remained silent on a Wednesday morning: all the students dressed in white uniforms, adhering to the rules and regulations; the very colour of white indicating peace, contradicted Class 9-B lying perfectly at the centre of the third floor.
“Excellent, baby!”, Aswitha applauded a pretty girl with two thin and long plaits grown all way long till her waist. The class of around thirty turned to look at their teacher who paused somewhere in between the second row after strolling for a quarter-hour by then.
“Thank you, ma’am!”, smiled Hashika, nodding along, as she continued sketching her English assignment notebook.
“Aaaan!”, dragged Aswitha, in her coarse and commanding voice. “Now, I discover who decorates our blackboard with those simple yet brilliant borders. Is it you, Hashika?”
Hashika chuckled and nodded. Aadita, sitting next to her, paused her work and giggled at their favourite teacher on her left and her best buddy on her right. She patted Hashika and leaned a bit on her, making Hashika chuckle and display all her teeth with a beautiful wide smile.
Chanda, a pretty and spectacled girl, with two thick plaits long enough to be falling till her hips, sighed to herself, bulging her eyes as if she inhaled the air of deafening silence that seemed to prevail following a startling announcement made by the speaker at a meeting. She sat on the bench just in front of Aadita and Hashika who were treated no less than celebrities at a common place.
“Chanda Reddy, baby, what have you done?!”, Aswitha exclaimed, pointing at Chanda’s glitter work on her notes.
“Yes, ma’am, I thought of writing out the content in different glitters and adding dots hither and thither using crayons to present the piece of information in both a knowledgeable and creative way”, Chanda said, attempting to defend herself.
"Fine”, sighed Aswitha, turning back to acclaim Aadita’s work. “Baby, you left-handers are very creative, right?” She patted her at which the latter giggled and nodded.
“Sure, ma’am”, said Aadita, hitting a high-five with Aswitha. “How is your daughter doing by the way? What’s her name?”
“Hey, thanks for asking baby. She is great! She just grabbed her medical seat.”
“Oh, congrats! And the name?”
Hashika clapped to convey her token of appreciation.
“Anushka. Haven’t I told you?”
“Wow! Ma’am, what a coincidence! It's truly uncanny. I can’t believe my eyes!”, Aadita exclaimed, blushing and chuckling.
“What is it? I can’t wait. Come on, spill the beans, baby!”, said Aswitha, patting Aadita for the second time that session.
“Ma’am, my mom shares her name with your daughter! Woo! Isn’t that cool?”, Aadita squealed, shrugging and turning to her best friend who had thrown her mouth open as if her heart failed to beat for the moment.
As soon as the long bell rang, the entire class stood up and sang a “Thank you, ma’am”, in chorus, as Aswitha grabbed her textbook and left the class.
“It's incredible to infer this biased experience. Why couldn’t she utter a positive word or two to encourage me as well? My assignment isn’t bad either! I have used glitter and crayons and have researched to gather this flock of data. How can a silly border design or points written with arrows used as pointers, replace the true info? Urgh!”, thought Chanda, turning her notebook’s pages before closing it hard as the next teacher walked in.
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“Miru ekkada unnaru? Ikkadiki ravadaniki enta samayam padutundi? (Where are you? How long will it take to be here?)”, enquired a commanding female voice as if her larynx were destined to grow up and pursue as an emcee at popular award functions telecasted worldwide.
“Hello! Hello!”, she called as she heard her recipient’s line fade in no time.
The young lady, almost reaching twenty-five, frowned, beating her phone case on her left palm restlessly as she looked around the busy street with bikes and autos flying contiguously. Her long and curvy eyelashes looked prettier every time they bent to touch the skin under her eyes. She glittered like gold in her maroon salwar with the black shawl clinging right to the skin in her trachea and parts of it covering almost her entire neck yet ensuring to expose her thin and tender golden-coloured locket with a tiny circular white stone.
“Eka ma’am!”, she heard someone call her from behind. She turned with a beautiful smile inviting dimples at both corners of her rosy lips. Her long and thick raven hair fell half on the front till her waist while the other half rested on her back.
“Hi Deeksha, how are you?”, she smiled, as the two ladies shook hands.
Deeksha’s little son dragged a sweet “Good Morning ma’am” wish at Eka.
“Good Morning!”, Eka returned his wish, as she massaged the little boy’s head. She tilted her head and chuckled as he screeched, “Ma’am, I had your favourite bread and butter this morning. Mommy prepared it for me.”
“Superb! Did you thank my friend?”, asked Eka, at which Deeksha’s eyes went from her down to her playful son.
“Uhhh...Thank you, mommy!”, squealed the little three-year-old, turning and grinning at Deeksha who chuckled in return and slammed her forehead.
Deeksha looked no less than a model in her straight silky black hair untied; she dressed like the ideal trendy mom in a beige shirt inserted into a little loose formal black pants.
“Ekakanya, why are you still the same?”, doubted Deeksha, shrugging along.
“Because I’m Eka, isn’t it?”, laughed Eka, sharing a high-five with her student.
“Thanks a lot for your grammar lessons. Madan and I are glad that Vicky was able to clear those entrance tests. Phew! Our dream to place him in the best international school in Hyderabad has finally come true. Thanks again, Eka!”, said Deeksha.
Eka smiled and nodded. “Thanks to little Vicky too. It wouldn’t have been possible without his cooperation. Good boy!”, said Eka, gesturing a thumb-up sign at the little kid.
They were interrupted by the wheels of an auto stopping just a few feet away from their vicinity. No sooner did Eka hear the sound than she turned to spot the driver waving at her.
“Ok, he is here. I must head to school now. Bye!”, Eka was about to take their leave.
“A minute!”, called Deeksha. “Eka, for your timely help, I wish you that you get the best gentleman to be your loving husband. All the best!”
“Thank you!”, smiled Eka. “You rather wish me to excel at my new job at Hyderabad’s best school, although not of the international syllabus. Hmmm! Sai Prabhavathi Public School-SPPS has always been my dream school to work for.”
“Haha!”, Deeksha chuckled, completing, “May you acquire everything that you have ever wished for!”
“Thanks a tonne!”, exclaimed Eka, forcing a hug on her best friend who closed her eyes and held her breath until she boarded the auto and left, waving again, leaving the mother and son chuckle behind.
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“Mom! Bye! I’m leaving for school”, a young and handsome gentleman in a short-sleeved bottle green sporty T-shirt paired with milky white tracksuit pants, waved without looking back as he opened the gate.
“Lock the door!”, he ordered, stepping out on the road to grab his bike. The dense black beard highlighted the golden features of his fair face.
The black whistle suspended from a black tag going around his neck and hanging on his chest, oscillating as he pulled his bike a little front and walked a bit further.
“Yes, I am coming, Yuvan. You leave. I will come in a minute”, yelled an elderly female voice from inside his house.
“No way I’m leaving without seeing you lock the door”, Yuvan emphasized, frowning through the opened door at the entrance.
His black eyes happened to hover over the bike’s side mirror. He witnessed around five men assembled at the corner of the street; they seemed idle except that they were engrossed in gazing at him.
He furrowed his eyebrows and scowled silently as one of them bit their lips and began running. The goon carried a wooden log in his right hand; his cabbage-like hair danced asynchronously as he ran like a drum rolling towards Yuvan.
An elderly woman in a simple light blue sari walked inside from the house to its entrance. Tears accumulated in her eyes. She bulged her eyes and threw her mouth open watching her only son in trouble.
He was about to hit Yuvan on the head. The latter grabbed the wooden log firmly and frowned to himself. He grimaced as he slowly turned back at the fat goon fighting to free his hand. He twisted his enemy’s hand triggering him to ail aloud in pain.
“Hey! How dare you attack our buddy?”, yelled the second man in hiding.
Drops of sweat were evident on his brown forehead as he ran breathing as if he participated in a marathon.
No sooner was he about to target Yuvan’s chest with his sickle than Yuvan lifted his left leg and kicked the goon’s stomach hard like a football he tossed a few feet back before he fell to the ground.
“Fuck off!”, Yuvan cursed, setting the first goon free; releasing his hand and thereby making him surrender to the road.
“Yuvan! Yuvan! Are you alright?”, his mother panicked, running towards the gate.
“Shhh”, he gestured for her to be quiet and displayed his palm signaling her to stay at the doorstep. She shook her head, sobbing along.
He rolled his eyeballs restlessly to the sound of stubborn footsteps; the shoes hitting the road sounding like heavy rocks rolling down in the middle of a forest. Without any further delay, he grabbed the blade safely folded and packed in its case which in turn lay in his pants pocket.
“Go to hell!”, he groaned, exposing the sharp blade and attacking his buzzard as soon as the latter was hardly an inch behind him. He turned back only to watch the goon holding his right hand and ailing at the diagonal cut near his elbow joint.
“Hey! You!”, cheered the other two men in chorus as they stood up and tightened Yuvan’s hands in theirs.
“We won’t spare you”, confirmed the first man whose hand Yuvan had twisted in an act of self-defence.
The third man giggled as he forced a scarf around his fresh bloody scratch and stood up. He took his left hand back to grab a knife from his jeans pocket.
“Ippudu ninnu evaru raksinncaleru! (None can save you now) Hahaha!”, he let out a round of wicked laughter. Yuvan was busy trying to push the goons on either side away and set himself free, but all in vain.
“No! No! Yuvan!”, his mother wailed, shaking her head. She was about to step outside their house.
“No, Mom, you stay there. I swear you shouldn’t cross that doorstep. Stay there!”, Yuvan emphasized.
“Hey, silly!”, roared the third goon, blessing a punch on Yuvan’s forehead. “What can a woman do? It's okay, let her come. Hahaha!”, he commented, at which the other goons laughed and joined him. Despite Yuvan stamping the goons’ feet hard, they wouldn’t just let him go although it meant for them to bear the pain and maladies.
“Could someone please come forward and rescue him?”, thought Yuvan’s mother, sliding down along the door and settling at the doorstep with tears rolling down her cheeks.
None were around in their lonely neighbourhood with some of the other houses on the street either empty or owned by heedless residents locking themselves in at the sight of the dangerous drama outdoors. They were rather occupied with preparing food and packing boxes for their husband or children or perhaps focusing on their daily exercise routine.
The man was about to stab Yuvan when they were interrupted by an auto entering the street; the only squeaking sound breaking the pin-drop silence of the entire street.
No sooner did it distract the goons than Yuvan released himself pushing his two rivals in two different directions.
“Hey! You stay there!”, yelled the third goon. Yuvan began chasing him as he ran only a bit farther to fall on the auto.
“Can you please get down and go on your own from here? Your school is just a fifteen more minute walk”, asked the auto driver, in a trembling voice as he looked back at Eka and swallowed his fear.
“What do you mean? Haven’t I paid for the entire ride? I won’t go. You must drop me at the gate otherwise I will complain”, argued Eka.
“Madam, please understand that I cannot ride through this street. It is too dangerous and I don't want to risk my life or my auto. I have a family to take care of, and I need to repay my loans. I have even left my auto for the mortgage. I hope you can understand my situation and kindly leave”, the driver refused, as he got down and pulled Eka outside forcibly.
“Hey! What’s this nonsense? Payment?...”
“Naku jivitam kavali (I want life)”, Eka heard his faint voice as he sped away from the street. No sooner had she shrugged and wondered at him, than she felt someone grab her arms so hard that her fingers hardly had any grip left to hold her handbag.
“What’s going on here? Who are you? Leave me!”, yelled Eka, pursing her lips together, as the goon tightened his arms around her shoulders and pointed his knife at her thyroid cartilage area.
While she stamped him once with her sandals, he yelled aloud in her ears. She closed her eyes and swallowed her fear.
“Either you let me go or let her go forever! Hahaha!”, the goon threatened Yuvan; while rolling his eyes between the innocent girl and the goon's greedy face, the goon's wicked laughter continued.
“Idiot!”, Eka yelled at Yuvan. “Why do you disturb innocent commuters with your trivial fights on the road? If you decided to fight, why don’t you go somewhere else and fight?”, she continued, glancing from Yuvan to the goon and back to Yuvan.
“Shut up!”, the goon yelled, tightening her more and pressing the knife on her shawl.
“Help!”, said she, sweating a bit and breathing hard.
While she observed the dumbstruck Yuvan and the boastful goon scowling at his foe, she closed her eyes and bit his hand like a street dog pouncing on a piece of fresh bun offered by a samaritan from the nearest bakery.
“Stupid lass!”, yelled the goon, as he ailed and dropped the knife to catch his right hand again. She ran and hid behind Yuvan. She pressed her hand against his shoulder and slightly exposed the half of her face from behind. He moved his hand back, gesturing for her to hide completely.
“Are the two of you attacking me as a team? He tore my skin with a blade and minutes later, you attacked with your teeth on the same area. Haha! What a coward! Can’t you fight alone?”, chuckled the goon, still holding his hand.
“Didn’t you question a woman’s abilities a few minutes ago? I guess the heavens have already replied to you quite practically”, Yuvan remarked, chuckling along.
“Aah!”, cried Eka, as she felt someone pull her hair from behind.
“What’s wrong?”, asked Yuvan, turning back to glimpse a goon tying Eka’s hands at the back and holding them tight as if he were going to tie them together with a thick cord.
Yuvan’s eyes grew restless, arresting Eka’s black eyes; the heat of her helplessness began to disturb him.
