Outcast-1

Lying on the grass in the shade of one of the many trees, the boy seemed totally at ease.

The gentle breeze that blew from over the lake ruffled his hair, and sent a shiver along the blades of grass all around him. It seemed so natural that he was to lie here, that the scene might have almost been incomplete if he were missing. His body languid and at ease… with a reckless abandon that might have made passersby frown. With a grace that bordered on obscene… with a calm that was enviable, the boy just lay there… savoring the quiet perfection of a typical afternoon.

How long he had been there… was impossible to tell. He hardly moved a muscle, so deep was his calm. To all extents and purposes he may have been lying there since the dawn of time… and would be there till the apocalypse itself. Such was the manner in which he was embedded into this simple rural setting.

Presently, he raised his left hand and glanced at his watch. Holding it steady in front of his eyes as he allowed them to focus on it… understandable after the length of time for which they had remained glazed as he contemplated some different world. He lowered his hand again… with the mechanical precision of someone who never wasted any energy in useless gestures. He sat up, pulled his bag that he had let fall near his feet when he had thrown himself upon the grass… and rose in one single fluid motion.

He gazed out at the lake once and blinked slowly… letting the rays of the slowly setting sun fall on his westward turned features… throwing each line and contour into sharp relief. He seemed to be capturing the scene… the moment in his mind. Just as the scene appeared to be capturing him…. It was doubtful, which seemed more remarkable, and which would be cherished longer.

Then, without another moment of pause… he turned around and walked away along the narrow trail by which he had gotten here. Leaving the grass, the tree, the lake and the sun to watch helplessly as he moved away with swift sure steps… never faltering, never hesitating… and never once turning back.

The scene was still beautiful. Perhaps the golden rays that now adorned the leaves of the tree and the colored the velvet grass, lent some added splendor to the setting. Yet, to the eye of anyone who had been here a moment ago… the entire place was now devoid of the magic touch that had been the essence of its sordid charm. The place was as beautiful as a gorgeous vase… and just as empty. It had the glory of a rainbow… and also its lack of purpose. The lake and its shores were now desolate and lonely… without the one human who had made it alive.

The boy moved on along the winding path. The sun at his back, cast his long shadow in front of him to guide his steps as they directed their master back towards civilization. His arms swung casually at his sides… at ease but also poised. Coiled and ready for any eventuality without any of the strain usually associated with the state. His steps were firm, and steady. They held the same pace and led him on. His simple gait… a spitting image of confidence and the faith he had on himself.

In due course of time, the reign of the green foliage came to an end. The narrow lane joined a wider road… and all of a sudden there were buildings all around.

The sound hit immediately as well. It was almost as if the trees had been absorbing the noise up till then. The boy was back in the city in an instant, after his sojourn in the glades.

If he was in any way dismayed… or even affected at all by this sudden change of setting… his impassive face showed none of it. He trudged on silently, mechanically, his footfalls still precise and his pace still unaltered. He moved along the streets with the same self assurance and abandon that he had displayed in the empty countryside.

It wasn’t clear how long he walked. He seemed never to tire and never even pause. He just kept walking along one street and then another… he resembled some kind of an automaton rather than an average youngster facing all the distractions the city had to offer.

Finally, he reached the wide gates of his college, and let himself in… past the guards who knew him by sight… up the stairs, along the wide corridors… and into his own classroom and stopped short.

“You’re late Siddharth.” The aged professor, Mr. Dubey rebuked mildly, while ushering him in. He was known for his easy going nature, and was almost always kind to his students.

The boy, Siddharth Mitra… having suitably excused himself occupied his seat at the corner and awaited the last class of the day to begin.

His college started late in the day…and so continued into the evenings during the winter. By the time the last class got over the sun was almost always replaced by the moon in its place in the heavens.

Siddharth did not attend all his classes. For reasons of his own, he chose to attend only a few of the subjects… and those he did religiously. And with an equal fervor he refused to attend any of the rest.

 He had cut the four classes just prior to the one he was now attending, and felt no shame or regret for having done so. As the last rays of the sun passed through the window pane, and illuminated his profile… all that could be seen etched into the set of his eyebrows and the curve of his lips, was a concentration… and an eerie blankness.

And so… the last class commenced.

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