Why would Shraboni request a room change? It was just two days since college started, and they hardly knew each other.
Tavishi was bemused by her roommate’s behavior.
“Not a word was uttered between us. Shraboni did not even acknowledge my greetings when I first saw her in the room. It is I who should have requested for a room change.” Tavishi shared her woes with Gita, her senior batchmate and only friend to have secured admission to this medical college.
“I hear she has come from a mediocre locality in the city and yet behaves as she belongs to a royal family. But there is no single accommodation in the hostel. She has to adjust with someone.” Gita twisted her lips in acerbity.
Though Tavishi generally carried this I don’t care attitude; it was humiliating for the daughter of a senior police officer to be shunned like this.
She made up her mind to confront Shraboni instead of playing the guessing game about what made her opt for a room change.
A look at Shraboni, who was packing her bags, triggered Tavishi’s anger.
“What do you think about yourself? It would be best if you were thankful that I agreed to put up with a middle-class girl. Do you know who my father is?”
She hadn’t finished, and Shraboni sprang at her like a hurt tigress that would charge at its attacker.
“Who does not know your father? The famous senior inspector of police, Siddarth Sharma. The same blood as your father’s, reeking of power and position runs in you too.” Shraboni spat those words with bloodshot eyes.
“How dare you demean my father? What do you know about him?” Tavishi brandished her pointer, menacingly approaching Shraboni.
“I know he embezzled his position and power to kill innocent people.” Shraboni was quick with her answer as she stood to her ground, undaunted.
“You owe me an explanation for throwing such baseless allegations on my dad. I am not going to let go of this matter.” Tavishi seized Shraboni by her arm.
“Can you recollect last year’s riots in our city?” Shraboni asked with misty eyes.
Tavishi’s face puffed with pride.
“Yes, of course. My dad was awarded for his diligence.”
“Diligence?” Shraboni yelled. “On that fateful evening, while I was returning from the library, I saw a policeman shoot at a small crowd gathered outside my house. A bullet sent my mother, who was anxiously waiting for me at the threshold, sprawling to the ground.
It is not who fired the shot but who paid for the bullet that matters. The crowd wasn’t unruly. It was a peaceful gathering, but your father misused the power vested with him and bawled out orders to shoot. And you are flaunting about the laurels that were bestowed upon him for this inhumane act?”
Tavishi’s hold on Shraboni’s arms loosened involuntarily.
Shraboni marched out of the room.
‘I will win you back as my roommate one day,’ Tavishi silently vowed.
Disclaimer: Names, characters, and incidents, used in the story are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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A different take