Outcast-6

The scene was almost identical to the one two months ago.

Only this time Prashant had shifted to Siddharth’s side of Dubey instead of Suraj’s…. It was symbolic… well… sort of.

Siddharth was gazing listlessly out of the window again. The warm and overcast day’s grey light somehow made the grass on the lawn outside seem greener… more appealing. He watched a few students stretched out on it… enjoying a rare free period. He wished he were out there too….

Prashant was… jittery… to say the least. He was busily avoiding looking at anything in the room apart from his knees… which Siddharth had been expecting to start knocking together…. He did not want to be a part of this controversy… but here he was at the very middle of it.

Dubey was impassive. He was reading a paper and had not spoken a word since entering the office.

Suraj was fuming with indignation… either a continuing response at having, according to him, been ‘shunted’ from a project that was important to him... or at Siddharth’s lack of any trepidation. Beside him, Kiran also tried to look suitably peeved, but could not hide her awkwardness at being in this mess.

The tension in the room was palpable… and the emotions of the different people could be felt around them.

Except around Siddharth… who as always projected an aura of lethargy….

When the HOD finally arrived… It was obvious that his absence had not been any kind of a factor in preventing the plaintiffs from presenting their cases before him. His first act on reaching his desk was to glare at Siddharth and bark, “You seem to have no respect for you seniors and betters!”

The only thing Siddharth felt on hearing this was a brief regret that he could not contemplate the beautiful outside anymore. Well… if this didn’t take too long… maybe he could nip out as well too….

He didn’t respond… which Shaw took as a cue to proceed.

“You were given an honor… the honor of representing your institution at a prestigious event of which you probably hadn’t even heard of. Yet the only thing you found in this was an attempt to make a name for yourself. You attempted to cipher off your team members so that you could achieve your own ends. Your senior is a much better candidate for this event than you are… he would have worked with the team instead of going for glory… and you decided to cut him off. This kind of self-centered behavior cannot be tolerated. I am removing your name from the registration. The project will only show three people to have worked on it. Take this as a lesson. Now get out of my office!”

It had been very amusing to watch Shaw work himself into a rage…. Siddharth had watched the display of colors with a detached calm. He had watched as his moustache quivered… he had seen the transformation from pink to red… and eventually to purple as his volume rose and he was screaming.

So, it took him a fraction of a second to realize that he was the target of all these theatrics… and another to realize that something was expected of him.

He hastily replayed the words that had been thrown at him… along with a lot of spittle… and finally grasped he was supposed to be leaving… in shame.

Siddharth felt he should respond. He did not particularly care what was thought of him… but perhaps his motives deserved some defending…. He did not relish his enthusiasm represented as greed.

He looked at Shaw… waiting to hear what he had to say… and saw in his eyes only malice.

Here was a man who had made a decision and would never back away from it no matter what. He had closed his mind to all other explanations… and his ears to all words to the contrary.

The only thing that would actually please him would be if Siddharth begged him not to be booted.

They both knew that it was something that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

In that split second of hesitation… of wondering whether or not he should speak out… Siddharth made a discovery.

He found that he was not losing anything at all. It did not matter to him who received the fame… he did not care who was given the credit.

He knew that the work was his… and since it was… what it achieved at the competition would be his own achievement in a way deeper and older than any official certificate.

Siddharth was the creator of the project and what it won would be his prize… whoever be the one to receive it.

He rose… said the cursory “Thank you” that common politeness and etiquette called for ad left.

As he walked towards the exit, he glanced again at the lawn… he was headed there himself now. As his eyes swiveled back he saw… just out of the corner of his eye… a smirk on lips of Suraj.

Siddharth felt his steps slowing….

He knew he was still proceeding at the same pace… but somehow he felt time slow….

Siddharth was actually quite happy with the current arrangement. In it everyone got what they wanted… the fame, the sense of power over petty beings… the joy of seeing one’s work presented to the world….

There was only one drawback… Suraj would be given the credit for all the work he had done. This in itself wasn’t an issue to Siddharth… he didn’t care if Prashant or Kiran or even Suraj were praised for his work….

He didn’t want people to get the opinion that Suraj was even remotely capable of work half this standard. Siddharth hated mediocrity and its petty battles of mudslinging and backstabbing…. It pained him to see this mediocre, plotting and egotistical schemer succeed in not only his own efforts… but also carry away praise for stuff beyond his level of comprehension.

At the door… something irresistible seized hold of him and he found himself turning… almost against his own volition.

He was conscious as his mouth started to open… and felt himself trying to stop it. He watched and heard… as if in slow motion, as his lips formed a polite query of the HOD….

“Sir, there’s just one thing I would like to clarify… I am being kicked out because… I actually worked?”

There was total silence in the room. No one moved or spoke a word for what seemed like an eternity. Siddharth watched the stunned look on the HOD’s face… mirrored on the expressions of the assembled students in the form of horror. Dubey’s face however carried a tiny smile… more of sadness than elation.

He heard himself say again…. “Right that was all. Thank you.”

And he walked out of the room… without the faintest swagger or slouch… with the same mechanical numbness….

Next Chapter