I looked at my brother, opposite to me on a wooden bench parallel to the pale washed wall of police station. beside me was a wooden door and a constable watching to infinity across the wall. smell, mixed of sweat, wet cloths has covered the room, but smell of stress was overplaying it. I could hear shouting and screaming within intervals behind the door. we flinched on each scream but expressions of the constable were constant, never changing.
'I am going to kill myself' he had said to me. I looked away, ground was empty. no sign of wind, dust had settled, we sat near the stumps. i had put cricket bat in my lap, admiring it. but these words of him was making me uneasy in myself. we were no kids anymore. nobody kills in the name of love unless its love of his own greater God. I had said nothing. his rants never stopped.
Many a times i thought of telling him that its end of love and not the end of life. She doesn't even care, its totally visible. a man with a self respect would pick those signs and step aside leaving her with what she wants and that she is happy without you and doesn't have to go through the pain of explaining it. He wont understand so i just let him be.
We were called inside. with a increased heartbeat, i stepped in. My brother followed. Inspector offered us chair opposite the table he was sitting. Table was full of lose papers, few ball point pens, several, envelops and some tea glasses. But all my focus was on the wooden stick, well polished, kept at the corner of the table. he looked at me with his small but sharp eyes.
'which one of you did this?' an husky voice from inside a lean but strong looking body hit our eardrums. my brother looked at me. it was enough for the inspector to focus on me. His continuous stare was equivalent of him saying 'start speaking'
'There is no other way than killing myself' he had said again. I stood up and told him 'thats enough' i plucked the stump out of the ground, 'stop behaving like a B grade movie hero, you are not'. he looked up to me. 'you will never know that feeling. for that you have believe in love, you have to fall in love, you have to experience it yourself what i am going through' he said getting himself up. sometimes i doubt my ability to make friends who are not cry babies. 'thats enough' i repeated but he didnt and i had the stump.
I walked him home and pushed him slowly inside his door. he cried in pain but it didnt affect me. his left hand was swollen from the elbow. His father came from inside and asked me what had happened. i lied, not about the incident, but about the reason. he told me to do so. Parents are always kept out of love stories. they find it funny, which by the way they are.
I looked back to the inspector, still staring me. I felt a giggle from outside the door and imagined the constable laughing. 'There is no FIR, just thought of warning you of your violent streak' inspector said writing down something on a piece of paper. 'Go now'
We both stood up and came out. Constable giggled back at me. My brother laughed and there was another laugh across the door, a husky laugh. I walked out of the police station and behind the curtains of my newly grown beard, which of course i have grown because of the same reason my friend got hit by the stumps, I smiled.
'I am going to kill myself' he had said to me. I looked away, ground was empty. no sign of wind, dust had settled, we sat near the stumps. i had put cricket bat in my lap, admiring it. but these words of him was making me uneasy in myself. we were no kids anymore. nobody kills in the name of love unless its love of his own greater God. I had said nothing. his rants never stopped.
Many a times i thought of telling him that its end of love and not the end of life. She doesn't even care, its totally visible. a man with a self respect would pick those signs and step aside leaving her with what she wants and that she is happy without you and doesn't have to go through the pain of explaining it. He wont understand so i just let him be.
We were called inside. with a increased heartbeat, i stepped in. My brother followed. Inspector offered us chair opposite the table he was sitting. Table was full of lose papers, few ball point pens, several, envelops and some tea glasses. But all my focus was on the wooden stick, well polished, kept at the corner of the table. he looked at me with his small but sharp eyes.
'which one of you did this?' an husky voice from inside a lean but strong looking body hit our eardrums. my brother looked at me. it was enough for the inspector to focus on me. His continuous stare was equivalent of him saying 'start speaking'
'There is no other way than killing myself' he had said again. I stood up and told him 'thats enough' i plucked the stump out of the ground, 'stop behaving like a B grade movie hero, you are not'. he looked up to me. 'you will never know that feeling. for that you have believe in love, you have to fall in love, you have to experience it yourself what i am going through' he said getting himself up. sometimes i doubt my ability to make friends who are not cry babies. 'thats enough' i repeated but he didnt and i had the stump.
I walked him home and pushed him slowly inside his door. he cried in pain but it didnt affect me. his left hand was swollen from the elbow. His father came from inside and asked me what had happened. i lied, not about the incident, but about the reason. he told me to do so. Parents are always kept out of love stories. they find it funny, which by the way they are.I looked back to the inspector, still staring me. I felt a giggle from outside the door and imagined the constable laughing. 'There is no FIR, just thought of warning you of your violent streak' inspector said writing down something on a piece of paper. 'Go now'
We both stood up and came out. Constable giggled back at me. My brother laughed and there was another laugh across the door, a husky laugh. I walked out of the police station and behind the curtains of my newly grown beard, which of course i have grown because of the same reason my friend got hit by the stumps, I smiled.
