Chapter 6 – Alone in the Dark...
The coins no longer jingled in his pocket. His little cloth bag lay empty, folded in the corner of the room like a dead bird.
Days passed. Sanjay no longer went to the school gates. He couldn’t bear the laughter of the children, the whispers behind his back. Cheater… liar… fool. The words followed him even in his dreams.
His mother still cooked the same thin rotis, but she spoke less. Even Meera, his sister, avoided his eyes. The small light he had brought into the house was gone, leaving behind only silence.
One evening, Sanjay wandered down the lanes of the town. The market glowed with lanterns, the air thick with voices, but he felt like a ghost among the living.
A group of boys laughed as he passed. One of them pointed. “Look, that’s the pen-seller. The one who sold rubbish!”
Laughter stabbed at him like knives. Sanjay lowered his head and walked faster.
By the time he reached the empty riverbank, his chest was burning. He sank onto the cold ground, staring at the black water sliding past.
“What am I doing?” he whispered to the night. “Who am I fooling? I thought I could rise, but look at me. I am nothing. Just dust.”
That night at home, his father finally spoke.
“Sanjay,” the man said, his voice flat, “stop chasing illusions. You are not meant for business. Find work. Carry loads. Earn wages. At least then, you’ll feed yourself.”
Sanjay’s throat tightened. His father’s words were heavy, like stones pressing down on his chest. He wanted to scream, to argue, to prove him wrong. But what proof did he have now? Nothing.
He lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling. For the first time, he thought seriously: Maybe they’re right. Maybe my dreams are too big for me.
The next morning, he tried to take his father’s advice. He went to the bazaar and offered to carry sacks for shopkeepers. The weight bent his back, the ropes burned his hands, and at the end of the day he had only a few coins.
Walking home, he looked at the meagre earnings and felt hollow. This is survival… but this is not living.
Nights grew darker. He stopped speaking much. His friends drifted away. His shoulders slumped, his eyes dulled.
One evening, his mother found him sitting in the corner of the room, staring at nothing.
“My son,” she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “What troubles you so deeply?”
He shook his head. “I am tired, Amma. Tired of fighting. Tired of failing. Maybe this is all I will ever be.”
She said nothing. She only held him for a long time. And in that silence, Sanjay felt both comfort and despair.
The world had turned its back. His father had given up. His uncle had mocked. The market had crushed him.
And Sanjay, once burning with fire, now sat alone in the dark… his dream nothing more than a faint ember, threatening to go out forever.
End of Chapter 6
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