A Summer Spree

By Rajiv Khandelwal

"""A Summer Spree is a thriller. Exciting, captivating, and entertaining. There is friendship, romance, jealousy, high spirited challenges to create a war game that generates unending chaos in the minds of the four main characters. 

The story gently unfolds the pangs of adolescence, and romantic encounters, even as they st

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ukiyoto Publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9789360497231

Book preview

A Summer Spree

Rajiv Khandelwal

Ukiyoto Publishing

All global publishing rights are held by

Ukiyoto Publishing

Published in December 2023

Content Copyright © Rajiv Khandelwal

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

www.ukiyoto.com

With a measure of deep gratitude, I dedicate this work to Dr. Bhupinder Parihar and Dr. Shobha Diwakar, whose benign guidance has been a perpetual force in polishing my craft.

HE THAT HAS DONE NOTHING HAS KNOWN NOTHING

Thomas Carlyle

Corn-Law Rhymes 1832

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About the Author

Chapter 1

1969

I

was an unsuspecting target of a conspiracy. Had the conspiracy triumphed, I would have been behind bars for life. It is not as though prospects of murder had never crossed my mind before, yet, in no country can you sentence a man for thinking of committing such a crime.

A Piscean by birth, had I not been a meek fellow by disposition, I would have genuinely fallen into that scheming trap on that sweltering summer day. Hot, even by desert standards; you could almost fry eggs on the sidewalks; and when nearly all of my students were perspiring and fidgety, and I was thinking of giving them a break from the tedious lecture, my brother walked in with a ragamuffin grin. Giving a little sideways jerk to his head, he asked in an authoritative tone, What are you doing?

I stiffened; he was always asking stupid questions. Anybody could survey that I was conducting a class, but of course, he was just not anybody, so I retorted, I'm teaching the students.

What are you teaching? He queried in a harsh whisper that was callously insulting.

Evidently, it was a downright violation of my rights as it was absolutely none of his business to poke his nose in my affairs. Yet, he was always obsessed with his vicious interference to slake his nasty egotism in punching himself in my interactions. I could have bashed him up there and then, for his malevolent prodding, especially with that smirk on his face, but I believed that a Piscean does not act in haste. The intrusion was portentous enough, but that phantom smile really bugged me. Finally, with all the patience I could muster, I responded by saying, I am teaching them, General Knowledge. 

In his typical blasé attitude, he counteracted at once, What did you teach in today's lesson on G.K.? For a moment, I was ready to deny him the information he so persistently insisted on knowing, but I was aware that the leech was in one of his most offensive moods and would continue relentlessly until he got hold of an answer so eventually, I pounded, Today, we are learning our names."

I knew it! I knew it the moment I stepped in, he rudely minced, staring me in the face. I knew that you were taking the wrong classes, he asserted emphatically, and his face lit up as though he had just won a grand lottery.

Horror-struck and edgy, I croaked, What do you mean?

Unceremoniously, he retorted, You brainless ape, that's not General Knowledge; that's English Language! Saying so, he clobbered away with that repulsive, contemptuous tilt of his lips.

I could feel my facial expressions mutate. My mouth bunged faintly as waves of vindication washed over me. It was definitely my turf. After all, when one has a name, it is a common name known to all. There is no secret attached to it, as it gets across as recognition. If your name is not a secret and is available for anybody to use and know, it definitely falls into the category of General Knowledge. Yet, before I could even begin to argue my case, he did a treacherous, loathsome thing without my permission. He dismissed the class.

Okay boys. That's it. Class dismissed.

This incident incited my anger, which, spurted with wild agitation, doused me with revolt, resentment, and hatred. Fighting back my mounting tears, I dejectedly whinged, Why did you do that? Without giving me an answer, he swung around with a fanatic, sarcastic grin boring into my back even as I perceived the agonized students to flee in haste.

Unabashedly, he lashed out, What sort of a teacher are you? Can you not teach anything accurately? Don't forget, the boys are doling out an excellent amount of fees, he added cynically, quite aware of the fact that his meanness always had a diverse effect on my brittle emotions, which further ignited his mockery.

Much to my anguish, his logic was watertight so that sometimes it affected me adversely and compelled me to feel guilty that I was indeed extracting higher tuition fees than others. Nonetheless, simmering with rage, I retaliated harshly, You had no business to barge in and ruin my class..., but before I could complete my sentence, he nastily asserted, Yes, I did. 

Humiliated and hurt by the insult, I shouted fiercely, How dare you enter my class without my permission and cheekily dismiss the students instead of requesting me to cancel my lecture for the day? Notwithstanding, my disgruntled tone was ominous and intimidating; in my heart, I was convinced that the sinister whirr of his psyche was despicable and hostile.     

Exactly as I had eerily anticipated, he vindictively continued in the same slur, his voice resonating with a fluttering ego, If at every tick of a second, you teach them wrong stuff; you lose a bit of your reputation and, by association, I lose mine. While I care two hoots for your repute, I cannot stand by and have mine maligned, can I? Anyway, "How else would you, dear brother Ramesh, have dismissed the class?

The rude retort came like a bolt from the blue, and as I stood dumbstruck, he continued, You had to have a reason, and we couldn't tell them that you were teaching incorrectly and taking the wrong class, could we?

This last whip threw my mind into a whirlpool. The realization dawned upon me that the chap was a polished artist, capable enough to pick up a few odd patches of colour, draw a couple of wiggly lines to create a collage and construct a face, or paint a landscape with his perceptive owl's eyes to demoralize me.

The rogue always attacked me on a psychological tag, dragging the very atoms of my soul under a microscope, but since I had, had enough, I could not stomach anymore, so I shrieked in disgust, What do you mean by association? Immediately adding as an afterthought, Who the hell wants to be associated with you? I want an immediate apology, I treacherously concluded as bitterness bubbled to the surface.

Seeing that blatantly frenzied, brutal look on my countenance at that instant, geared up to avenge the insults hurled indiscriminately, any other person in his stead would have streamed out of my presence. However, it did not affect him as he looked daringly at me, saying, Apology for what? Eh! Think of it in your dreams. 

I often observed how Mom severed the overgrown, heavy fruit or vegetable in the kitchen garden to save the plant from collapsing, which presented me with an idea. If I had to preserve my integrity, my fundamental rights, and my sanity, I had to act and act at once. After all, there was a limit to tolerance, and the only way I could rescue myself from these unwanted maniac slings of abuse was either to hang myself or kill the insolent offender. Padam's constant torments were now crushing my spirit, and I wished desperately to escape this throttling snooze one way or the other.

These gruesome thoughts overpowered me more so because just a couple of days back, I had indiscreetly overheard dad narrate a story to mom about how people killed in a fit of anger over minor conflicts, which could have been solved amicably over a cup of tea. Such hot-headed folks only realized their distorted actions when they were handcuffed and jailed.

Padam had disgraced me before my students and committed irreparable injury to my prestige. It was impossible for me to forget that I had been humiliated in the presence of my class, and as such, the insult incurred could only be pacified when I had eliminated the source responsible. As if in a trance, giving voice to my darkest impulses and without any show of theatrics, I minced my words and said, I am going to kill you.

Despite my threat, Padam remained unruffled. He immediately retorted impudently, Oh, so are we back to square one? If you can dare to kill me right away and then have the guts to face mom, why don't you simply carry out the omen?

It was extraneous for the two of us that the class and the students were merely a part of our scrappy fancy, albeit; little would it have mattered on both sides of the fence.

I was quite aware of the fact that if mom were disturbed during her catnap time, she would definitely blow the hell out of me, even though she was conscientiously aware that my brother was a scallywag. The nostalgic past flooded my memory as I remembered how this blabbermouth had once put me in a snag over a bottle of Coke; we disputed upon and had carried the tale to mom before, whom I was produced as the culprit of the discord. To date, that rotten day is still as fresh as the daisy blooming outside in our garden. 

It so happened that a distant relative held a high position at the Coke bottling plant and also happened to be their distributor. As a result, he charitably presented a crate of Coke bottles every week to our family as a gift. Notwithstanding, mom rationed our daily quota to a bottle of soft drink to be shared between the two of us because she did not wish us to take the liberty to indulge in it as a  daily habit. The deal struck between my brother, and me, was that he would drink the first half of the bottle, and the other half would be my share. This covenant did not involve any volumetric parameters but on the tallness of the bottle and its contents. For a while, we had smooth sailing until a friend of his conspired and warned him that I was consuming the lion's portion since the bottle was broader at the bottom!

In a moment, the pact blasted off. The next time we obtained a bottle from mom, he insisted I drink the upper half while he would enjoy the remaining. I coolly reminded him about the contract but to no avail. Out of sheer disgust and in a fit of anger, I drank up major contents, gulping it down as swiftly as I could, then what followed, you can well imagine. He point blankly refused to drink the balance, so in a fit of rage, I guzzled down the rest, much to his dismayed stare. Appalled at my action, frenetically stamping his feet, he turned tails to report the matter to mom.

Indeed, he had no right to do so, as the brawl involved two brothers without third-party intervention. Notwithstanding, this is exactly how my tell-tale, impish brother was.

Going down memory lane, I remember how during lunchtime, Padam, who disliked chapatti's (rotis), always passed on the larger share to me and retained the smaller piece for himself, never regretting his decision. As the elder, I never complained to either parent about his daily prank. I reflected nostalgically; if he could never equally divide a chapatti between us, why did he expect me to do otherwise with the bottle of Coke? Oh! I detested myself for being such a stupid goose for all these years, but now there was no going back; I realized my imprudence was too late to rectify. His calling me bamboozle had contemptuously made me feel like a prig.

Even as I found myself delving into my obnoxious past experiences, in a flash, another idiotic incident hastily crept in, stapling its claws firmly on my mental frame. It was a bright summer's day, and the school had just given over. We trudged out of the campus, strapped with our heavy bags, to leave for home.

Time dragged on, but our car did not arrive to pick us up, and as we watched the others vacate the premises, our impatience overpowered us at realizing that we were the only ones lingering. Just then, as if by luck, a rickshaw puller happened to pass by, and since we had no choice, we hailed him to stop. Since I was the elder, the decision to settle the fare fell on my shoulders. After directing him the way we were to go, I questioned him about what he would charge us for that distance; he said, Sahib paune do de dena, which meant one rupee and seventy-five paise. However, with a haughty look of a young, smart bloke, I made a bargain, That's too much you are asking for; I'll give you only sava do! 

The rickshaw man instantly nodded his head, and without further ado, we jumped inside and seated ourselves with a sigh of relief; simultaneously, I smugly transferred a spy wink towards my brother to hint how I had hoodwinked the fellow. Padam, who had so far remained silently poker-faced with an 'I don't care' attitude, at that moment grazed my very being with that haughty smear on his scrubby face. Taunting me caustically, he retorted, 'So, you think you are very smart? The chap asked you for one rupee and seventy-five paise, and you ignorant oaf offered him sava do, i.e., two rupees and twenty-five paise; exactly fifty paisa more than what he had asked for!

The rickshaw puller may have assumed that my action must have stemmed out of generosity; Padam definitely knew otherwise. Abashed at my stupidity, I could do nothing but wipe the sweat off my forehead and steal away my eyes from this precocious brother of mine until we reached home in silence thereafter. Nonetheless, there was absolutely no reason for him to perform an All India Radio act about this incident, which aggravated my sense of injustice even further, thereby giving reins to my initial plan to do away with him at the first opportunity I could muster up.

However, consciously retaining the current state of affairs in mind, I realized it was not an exact time to initiate the threat. I would have to lie in wait for an opportune time to carry out my vengeance. Despite the fact I had to have the last word, I crudely ordered him to scoot off in a split second unless he wished to be bashed up instead.

On perceiving a deadly look in my eyes, Padam at once turned tails as I snarled behind him, I am going to destroy you, but did not say when. Thank your twinkling stars I am not in the mood to carry out my threat right now, I muttered in a stern, threatening tone and ran off before he could retort and further embroil me roguishly. I had to retain my cool because I had to appear for an examination the next day and could not afford to waste time on a baddie like him.   

Padam had probably played upon my emotions, conspiring to succeed by flaring up my temper. He was perfectly aware that repetitively hurled insults had the potency to instigate anger, which became the ultimate genesis leading to madness. His twisted attitude confirmed his belief that madness and murder were bosom friends. This led him to push me to the edge. His actions and insults were always so well-timed that he was insanely aware that I would not be able to kill him at the defined moment I craved.

The subsequent incident will illustrate my thoughtful cogitation over the delayed issue. A particular tutor came home daily to coach us in our studies. Invariably, he would give us homework that we had to do and present to him the next day. However, this tutor was endowed with a few eccentric habits. Since he was extremely particular about this routine, he would get exceedingly cross if he beheld an incomplete work, because of which he would slap himself whenever my brother and I neglected his work or committed any mistakes. Obviously, such a crazy habit of his consumed us with infinite guilt and anguish every time he punished himself for our folly. Therefore, as a rule, we did our homework at the designated hour Mom had scheduled.

Notwithstanding, one day, Padam secretively finished his assignment behind my back and coaxed me to ignore my coursework and join him in play. Led by my inherent ignorance, I wholeheartedly obeyed the temptation and, much impressed by his 'shallow' logic for once, unabashedly paid no heed to the tutor's homework.

However, on