Loser

                               The morning was beautiful. It had rained last night. The raindrops hanging from the leaves sparkled like diamonds in the sunlit morning. Trisha had just sat down to have her morning coffee when her phone rang. It was Sudhir.

‘Okay, I’ll be there at five in the evening’, she said as she kept down the phone.

                             Sudhir had been Trisha’s friend for a long time. He had felt a certain interest in Trisha from the very first day he had seen her, his new neighbour. Crushes at such young ages were nothing new. Trisha and her family had shifted to Bangalore when she was in class six. Trisha was admitted in the same school that Sudhir attended and now, they were now in the same college too. Though Sudhir was shy in nature, yet they had bonded well.

Sudhir had been pacing up and down the room when Randhir arrived.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Just a little nervous’, answered Sudhir.

‘About what?’

‘I was thinking about confessing my love for Trisha to her.’

Randhir reminded him that she already had a boyfriend.

‘I know. It’s just that he is not the right choice for her’, said Sudhir.

                            Sudhir came back home early that night. As he opened the door, he was surprised to find Randhir seated on the couch. He was skipping through the pages of his favourite magazine, as the light from the lamp fell across his face.

‘How did you get in here?’ asked Sudhir surprised.

‘That is not important. Tell me how did it go, what did she say?’

‘She did not turn up’, said Sudhir rather sadly, trying to force a smile.

                           Sudhir had been waiting for Trisha at the Café for an hour. Seeing that she was late, he had tried calling her. Trilok, Trisha’s boyfriend had picked up his call. Sensing something fishy, Trilok had warned Sudhir and had made it clear that he did not want ‘losers’ like Sudhir to be around Trisha.

‘I can help you with it, if you want’ said Randhir. Sudhir hesitated but later agreed on Randhir’s repeated pestering. From then on, various tricks had been applied to lure Trisha, right from sending flowers and gifts to sending letters, in which he promised his love for her. But nothing helped. Trisha chose Trilok over Sudhir every time and Sudhir had thus almost resigned to the thought of considering himself as a loser. ‘Loser’ - such an abusing term for a boy of his age. He felt ashamed, anger seething in his veins.

                           It was the evening of their farewell party. Sudhir sat in a corner, watching Trisha, dressed in a red gown, enjoying a dance with Trilok. Her hair fell loose over her shoulder, making her look even prettier. Sudhir felt angry. What if Trisha had never met Trilok, he thought. It would have been Sudhir dancing with Trisha today then.

‘You’ve got to do something about it, haven’t you?’ asked Randhir. Sudhir was taken aback by surprise. He had not noticed Randhir’s presence.

‘Come on, follow me’, ordered Randhir.

Sudhir did not quite understand what was happening but nevertheless he followed Randhir, who led him to the backyard of the college. They were following Trilok, who had gone to dig out the hidden bottles of alcohol from underneath the piles of hay and dead leaves.

‘Go on, kill him’, suggested Randhir catching Trilok off guard.

Sudhir did not agree.

‘Come on, do it and show him that you’re not a loser’, insisted Randhir.

‘I can’t’, said Sudhir nervously.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll do it for you.’

Even before Sudhir could say something, Randhir walked straight to Trilok, grabbed a bottle of alcohol from his hands and broke it on Trilok’s head. He fell on the ground unconscious.

‘Stop it!’ cried Sudhir, as he watched Randhir stab Trilok to death with the broken glass bottle.

‘We’ll get caught’ panicked Sudhir.

‘No, we won’t. Just act normal.’ Randhir sounded quite calm. Sudhir was terrified. He ran back to his room. Images of the gruesome crime committed flashed in his mind as he stood staring helplessly at his reflection in the mirror. Just then he noticed blood stains on his T-shirt. It was Randhir who had killed Trilok, yet there were blood stains on his T-shirt. Sudhir was puzzled. Sudhir could not go off to sleep that night. He kept tossing and turning in his bed restlessly. He called up Randhir to tell him that he thought it wise to surrender before the police. But Randhir warned him not to do so.

With the dawn of the next morning, Sudhir went to the police station to confess about the crime committed. Guilt had kept him awake the whole night. He gave the police all details about Randhir and the murder committed.

Next morning, he was called to the police station.

‘Whose phone number is this?’ asked the police inspector.

‘Randhir’s, Sir. I have got his number saved in my phone’, answered Sudhir.

The inspector dialed the number. Sudhir’s phone started to ring. Before Sudhir could say a word, the inspector slapped him across his face and threw him into the prison cell.

The cell was dark, with a dim bulb hanging loose from the ceiling. Sudhir sat in a corner, with folded legs, staring into the ceiling, still confused and unable to figure out what was happening.

‘Were you trying to get me caught by the police? I warned you not to’ said a familiar voice from the dark corner, ‘You’ll always be a loser. Yes, that’s what you are’. It was Randhir.

‘How did you get in here?’ asked puzzled Sudhir. He was supposed to be the only inmate of that cell. ‘You’ll now be hanged for the crime you committed’, said Sudhir nervously as he saw Randhir advance towards him.

‘I’ll kill you before that happens’, said Randhir fiercely, as he leapt upon Sudhir, whom he had caught by the neck and was trying to throttle him to death.

‘Help! He is trying to kill me’, begged Sudhir.

The police stood helplessly and watched Sudhir. They seemed confused as they could not understand why Sudir was trying to throttle himself to death!