Brihannala

Arjun was rarely alone at college.
He had four close friends.
Together, the five of them had become a familiar presence on campus.
They were loud.
Confident.
Competitive.
And, more often than not, convinced that the rules applied differently to them.
Arjun was the center of the group, although nobody had formally decided that he was.
The others simply followed him.
There was Rohit, whose father owned several construction companies around Chennai.
There was Vikram, whose family had been in the automobile business for decades.
There was Karthik, whose parents owned a chain of jewellery stores.
All three had grown up with money.
All three had private cars.
All three had been protected from most ordinary consequences.
And all three had developed some of the same habits as Arjun.
They spent freely.
They joked loudly.
They treated college almost like an extension of their social lives.
If someone objected to them, they laughed.
If a lecturer warned them, they usually found a way around the problem.
If a junior looked intimidated, they found it amusing.
Then there was Prakash.
He was different.
Prakash came from a completely different household.
His mother was a dance and music teacher.
She had raised him alone.
There was no family business waiting for him.
No collection of properties.
No financial safety net.
Every month mattered.
Prakash knew exactly what things cost.
He knew how hard his mother worked.
He studied seriously.
He was careful with money.
He was usually the person who reminded the others about assignments and examination dates.
Arjun occasionally called him "professor."
Prakash would roll his eyes.
"You'll understand when you start failing."
"I don't fail."
"You almost failed last semester."
"Almost doesn't count."
That was their friendship.
They argued constantly.
But they were genuinely close.
Prakash didn't normally behave like the other four.
The difference was obvious.
He didn't have an expensive car.
He didn't spend thousands casually.
He didn't insult people simply because he could.
But there was one weakness he had never completely overcome.
He wanted to belong.
Around his mother, he was responsible.
Around his teachers, he was respectful.
Around his friends, he sometimes became someone else.
When Rohit made a ridiculous joke, Prakash laughed.
When Karthik encouraged some harmless mischief, Prakash occasionally joined.
When Arjun challenged someone, Prakash sometimes stood beside him even when he knew Arjun was wrong.
He wasn't cruel by nature.
But he was young.
And being accepted by four confident friends sometimes mattered more to him than he wanted to admit.
That weakness would eventually become important.
Their final year began with the usual excitement.
The five entered the college together on the first morning.
Arjun drove.
Rohit and Vikram arrived separately.
Karthik's car followed them.
Prakash came on his motorcycle.
They parked together and walked toward the main building.
"Final year," Rohit said.
"Finally," Vikram replied.
"One more year of freedom."
Prakash laughed.
"One more year of attendance requirements."
Everyone groaned.
Arjun smiled.
"Don't worry. I'll handle it."
"That's exactly what worries me," Prakash said.
They laughed.
At that moment, none of them knew how quickly their carefree final year would disappear.
The incident began innocently enough.
Like many incidents that later become serious.
A joke.
A challenge.
A few students gathering around.
Someone recording something on a phone.
Someone laughing.
Someone saying something they shouldn't have said.
And then someone else answering.
Arjun, as usual, refused to back down.
What began as teasing gradually became confrontation.
The crowd grew.
More students became involved.
Some were encouraging the five friends.
Others were uncomfortable.
A few tried to leave.
But Arjun's confidence had already turned into something more dangerous.
The remarks became personal.
Some of them were directed at women.
Some crossed boundaries that shouldn't have been crossed.
And when someone finally told Arjun to stop, he laughed.
That laughter changed the atmosphere.
The matter was no longer a joke.
By the time the college administration became aware of what had happened, the story had grown considerably.
There were complaints.
Statements.
Videos.
Witnesses.
The administration formed an enquiry committee.
The five friends were called separately.
For the first time in their college lives, they were not sitting together.
They were sitting across from faculty members who were taking notes.
And suddenly, consequences were no longer theoretical.
The committee began asking names.
Who was present?
Who said what?
Who encouraged whom?
Who participated?
Prakash's stomach tightened.
He knew he had been there.
He knew he had laughed.
He knew that although he hadn't initiated the incident, he had failed to walk away.
If his name appeared in the official record, everything could change.
His mother's career could not protect him.
There was no family business to absorb the damage.
A disciplinary record could affect his final-year academic standing.
A serious finding could follow him when he applied for employment.
And if the matter escalated beyond college, the consequences could be far worse.
He sat silently.
Then the committee asked Arjun about the people who had been present.
"Prakash was there, wasn't he?"
For a moment, Arjun said nothing.
Prakash looked at him.
Arjun could have simply said yes.
Instead, he leaned back in his chair.
His expression changed.
"That poor coward?"
The committee members looked at him.
Arjun shrugged.
"Don't include him with us."
Prakash stared at him.
Arjun continued with the same arrogant tone.
"He doesn't have the guts for this kind of thing. He was just hanging around."
It sounded cruel.
Almost insulting.
Prakash lowered his eyes.
But he understood immediately.
Arjun wasn't trying to abandon him.
He was trying to remove him from the case.
The committee might think Prakash had been an insignificant bystander rather than one of the participants.
Arjun was deliberately making himself look worse while distancing Prakash from the incident.
And he never begged.
He never said:
"Please don't punish him."
He never admitted that he was protecting his friend.
He simply behaved as though Prakash wasn't worthy of being counted among them.
For Arjun, humiliation was easier than pleading.
Prakash understood exactly what he had done.
And that understanding hurt.
Because beneath all of Arjun's arrogance, there was still something Prakash could not deny.
When it mattered, Arjun had protected him.
But Arjun had also helped create the situation that required protecting him in the first place.
The enquiry continued.
The college was no longer treating the matter as ordinary student misbehavior.
Parents were being contacted.
Statements were being reviewed.
The people who had been humiliated were being heard.
And outside the committee room, whispers were spreading.
For Arjun and his three wealthy friends, it was still possible to believe that money, influence and confidence would somehow make the problem disappear.
Prakash couldn't afford that illusion.
He knew exactly what losing his academic standing could mean.
He also knew something else.
Arjun had just taken a risk on his behalf.
And someday, Prakash would have to decide what that act meant.
Was Arjun simply protecting a friend?
Or was there still a decent person inside the boy everyone else had begun to hate?
The answer would become clearer only after the consequences arrived.
And those consequences were already moving toward the Suresh household.