Chapter 2 (Part A): Backstories

Ramya's World

Our home has always smelled of fish. Not that it bothers me, but it's a constant, lingering scent. My father is a fisherman, and my mother waits for his daily catch, then takes it to sell at the market. It’s how we live. But for others, it's different. That's why I get ready for college at a nearby auntie's place. In school, I was teased relentlessly because of that smell. No matter how hard I tried to scrub it away, the whispers and jokes followed me. I went to a government school, and there were other kids in the same boat, their families struggling just like mine. My dad didn't have the money to send me anywhere else.

When it was time for college, though, my parents were determined. They wanted me to have a better life, to study well, and they somehow managed to get me into a good college. I told them not to struggle so much, but they insisted, saying that if I studied hard, I'd get a good job and wouldn't have to face the hardships they did. I might not be the top ranker, but I study well. And I will study hard, for the faith they have in me.

Bumps and Bandages

(The scene replays from the end of the previous episode: Ramya hitting Rocky's head on to the beach, leaving a visible bump.)

During lunch break, Rocky sat at the table, a comical, cartoonish bump swelling on his head, his mouth agape, eyes distant. Anjali and Vicky sat opposite him, stifling giggles as they tried to playfully poke food into his dazed mouth.

Anjali quickly shifted to her 'older sister' mode, scolding them gently. "You guys really need to get your act together and study. Or you'll end up repeating the same class. Seriously, study hard and come to my class next year. I'll take care of you then."

Rocky, ever the defiant one, mumbled, "Nah, it's okay. Even though she hit me, Sara is still there. Once Ramya is out of the way, I'll totally flirt with Sara. What do you think of my plan?"

Anjali sighed. "You're hopeless." She then turned her attention to Vicky. "At least you should change, Vicky. You know your family's situation. If you study well and get good marks, you'll be okay." Her gaze softened. "I thought we'd all study together and enjoy college like we did in school, but you guys got shuffled to lower classes because of this crazy marks system. I hate it."

(Note: Many colleges have this system where students are divided into different classes based on their academic performance. Good students go to higher classes, average students to middle classes, and weaker students to lower classes. There are even specialized classes for those preparing for entrance exams and those who barely study at all. The aim of this system is to push everyone to study harder.)

Rocky threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll study and come to your class!"

Vicky's Quiet Burden

Vicky was deep in thought. SIGH. He wasn't particularly smart. He could only get good marks by memorizing, and he often got confused trying to understand complex concepts. He remembered the first day of school. His dad had dropped him off in a rickshaw, and he was crying because he didn't want to go.

Rocky had bounded over, full of boisterous energy. "Wow, you come in a rickshaw? That's so cool! Uncle, he's my best friend now! You have to give me a ride too, okay?"

Vicky had always appreciated that. Rocky never judged him. He'd tease, sure, but he never said anything truly mean. He never got mad at Vicky, even when Vicky did things to annoy him. Vicky was quiet, a bit reserved, always thinking about his family and his life. He found it hard to be completely happy. He kept getting pushed to lower classes, despite studying as hard as he could. He often felt useless. That's why he pushed himself to study harder, always.

The next morning, Vicky was walking to college, still lost in thoughts about his situation. He met Rocky and Anjali on the way, and they walked together, the familiar trio, until they reached the college gate and split for their respective classes. Rocky, as always, rushed to his, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sara.

Anjali noticed Vicky's contemplative expression. "You're thinking too much about studies," she said, gently. "Stop worrying about marks and just focus on understanding the material. I'll give you important questions and help you with any doubts you have." Her helpful nature was evident.

Classroom Chaos

Rocky burst into his class. Sara was already there, sitting alone. He excitedly strode towards her. But before he could reach his seat, Ramya appeared from behind him, BONK! hitting him on the head with her knuckles before slipping into her own seat. Sara looked shocked, and Rocky, rubbing his head, slumped into his chair, glaring at Ramya.

Ramya leaned over, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You like Sara, don't you?"

Rocky quickly denied it. "No, not at all!"

"I'm going to tell her," Ramya threatened, already turning towards Sara.

Rocky quickly covered Ramya's mouth. She responded by licking his hand. SPLAT! He recoiled, PUSHING her instinctively. Ramya stumbled, and her head BUMPED into Sara's. Both girls cried out, holding their heads in pain. Rocky immediately stammered an apology to Sara.

Just then, the teacher entered and surveyed the chaotic scene. Rocky was promptly singled out and made to stand outside the classroom as punishment. Students passing by chuckled at his predicament.

Feeling the urgent call of nature, Rocky sneaked off to the bathroom. When he returned, the teacher was waiting, arms crossed, a furious expression on his face. Rocky was ordered to kneel down with his hands raised.

Anjali passed by and stopped. "What are you doing out here?" she asked.

Rocky sighed. "It's all because of her. And what are you doing here?"

Anjali: "Dad came to pay my fees. They told me Vicky hasn't paid his yet and asked me to call him."

"Oh," Rocky murmured, his gaze falling on Vicky, who was walking by, looking utterly dejected. Anjali's expression softened with sympathy for Vicky, and she shot Rocky a reprimanding glance. "Stop doing stupid things," she admonished.

"Whatever," Rocky mumbled to himself.

To be continues in Chapter 2 - Part B