Hope, hanging.

“This is your chance to change your life and ours as well. Good luck, and remember, you’re our only hope.”

His father told him when he dropped him off at his college.

Many people dream about becoming an engineer. The dream course, the path to a dream career and a high paying job.

First day in college. His heart was pounding, the adrenaline rush, the fear of sitting among strangers!
He inquired where his class was and walked towards it.
A group of people were standing outside at the bulletin board, looking for their names. He walked right into the room and sat in the first bench.

He got acquainted with some people before the first class started. The first day was good. So was the second.

As days passed, he knew a few people whom he could call his friends. Subjects seemed pretty interesting and he wanted to take the course seriously.
Right when he was about to get serious, something stupid happened.
It was mathematics class.
He hated math but he liked this professor’s new approach towards teaching the subject.

“If you have any doubts, just lemme know.”
The professor said.

“Excuse me sir, can you explain the Cauchy’s Theorem again? I couldn’t get it the first time.” He asked.

“Well, I taught that yesterday. What the  hell were you doing yesterday? Get out of the class.”
The professor scorned.

He picked his bag up, and started walking to the door…
What a loser!
He heard somebody yell from behind.

He walked out of the door.

“Hey! You! Shortass! C’mere!”
A guy from a gang sitting just outside called him.
We’re your seniors here, why don’t you introduce yourself?

“My name is….”

Shortass! Hahaha!”

“That’s not funny! Shut up!”

Shortass here has got a big voice. Let’s cut it short!”
Two guys came forward, slapped him and told him not to mess with seniors again.

It was post lunch hour now, the class has started.
“Are you the one who the math professor said? The one who never follows any lesson?”

“Ma’am, I did follow but…”

“Shut it. I’m not forgiving like that professor here. So, behave yourself.”

He was pissed.
He was bullied everyday.
To stop being bullied, you have to become a bully yourself. He formed a group, started bullying others. The group grew, so did their addiction to alcohol.
He lost interest in studies but never stopped revising the daily syllabus.
It was exam time, he told his mum that he’d be studying at his friend’s place that night.

“Remember you’re our only hope”
She said.
He felt burdened, he was never used to taking any responsibility.
Everyday was exactly the same.
The first had semester ended.

It was results time, he had studied hard and was expecting good grades.
“Ma, the results are out. Lemme go and check.”
He told his mum.
“He’ll pass, I know. He’s our only hope!”

He went to his friend’s place to check his results.
He was horrified to see that he had failed in four out of seven subjects.
He never expected this to happen.

He walked home, head down, counting every step. It seemed like a highway to hell.

“My son never failed in any exam till now. I’m sure he scored well. You know he’s our only hope!”
He heard his father talking to someone on phone.

Dad, I wanna tell you something.
I failed in four subjects.”
He muttered.

His father cut the call, walked in, and made another call..
Yes sir, it’s me,
My son has failed in most of his subjects, yes, he’s a failure. Can you please find a job that suits him?
He should be fit to become a janitor, at least.”

He couldn’t believe what he just saw. He rushed to his mother to tell her that he’d work harder this time.

“You were our only hope. We are hopeless now. What will the society talk about us now? Your father’s name? His pride? Have you ever thought about that?” she slapped him and cried.

“Don’t talk to me.”
His father said, so did his mother.
Dinner was served. He sat in his room alone.
His sister came in,
“You can do better next time. Please eat.”
He ate a little.

“I don’t know what sin I’ve done to get this boy as my son. Tell him not to talk to me.”
He overheard his mother telling his father.

It was eight in the morning, way past his usual time. His father knocked his door but there was no response.
They waited for a while and barged in

There was nobody on the bed.
His father walked further.
Something hit his head from above.
The father looked up to see his son hanging to the ceiling fan, swinging.
A letter fell down,
It read…
“I’m not talking to you.”

This is entirely a work of fiction!


6 Comments Add yours

  1. Heartbreaking story. *teary eyes* . You write amazingly good.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thea says:

    This got me so emotional Bharath! Nicely done.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Grace Anne says:

    So emotional right now!! Touching story, well written.

    Liked by 2 people

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