Trophies
Madhan sat digging in the backyard of his house. It was getting dark. As he reached the familiar metal box, he smirked. This box held his trophies. “One-hundred and three,” he said triumphantly. He took the Goli from his pocket and raised it in front of his eyes. It glittered due to the light from the setting sun. This was not his first. It certainly would not be his last. Madhan was unbeatable at Goli. Suddenly, he had the feeling that he was being watched. He looked around and saw a familiar face staring at him. “I’m not giving your brother his Goli back, Sucheta!” he said grimly.
“Why do you think I want it back?” asked Sucheta. She was sitting on the wall behind his house and looking at him with a curious expression.
“It is obvious. I sent him crying. He would have come to you,” said Madhan bluntly.
“Well. You seem to know why I am here. You can give me his Goli and I will be on my way,” she said and extended her hand hopefully.
“Nice try. I won it fair and square. I am …” he began angrily.
“Yes. We all know. The Kapil Dev of Goli. Every kid in the district knows,” said Sucheta tossing her hair and looking unimpressed.
“I beat one-hundred and three others for this,” said Madhan gruffly. The rules were clear. The winner takes the loser’s Goli. He had warned each of his victims.
“Saket is a little boy,” said Sucheta defensively.
“Then he shouldn’t have challenged me. I am undefeated. He lost. He needs to learn that there are consequences,” said Madhan.
“What happens when you lose?” asked Sucheta. She jumped from the wall and walked towards him. “Do you think you will stay undefeated? Kumar was the champion before you. There will be someone after you,” said Sucheta.
“I won’t,” said Madhan confidently.
“Perhaps. Either way, you have no friends. You leave a trail of crying boys and none of them are your friends,” said Sucheta.
“Why do I need friends?” asked Madhan.
“Everyone needs friends, Madhan. Your trophies are empty. Goli is not your life. You can make nothing from it. You are alone. You beat them all. You will be remembered more fondly if you return the Golis,” said Sucheta.
“What if I don’t want to be remembered?”, he asked slowly.
“Too bad. I’d have liked to remember you as a kind boy,” said Sucheta, shaking her head.
Madhan sighed. He could have the whole village forget him but not her. He did not care about his victims but he cared about Sucheta. Somehow, her opinion mattered. He thrust the box in her hand and walked to his house silently. He had spent a year collecting the trophies. He wanted to leave before he could change his mind.
“I’ll remember this,” Sucheta called from behind him.
“You better,” he said. His lips curved into a smile. He was glad that she could not see it.
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