3 Vol 1: Revelation Of Rakshas — Who Am I?

This is exactly why I never save people.

Now, I don’t know what breed of rabid dog bit me that got me to birth the idea of me saving him—that snotty little never-met-before kid—but obviously, something went wrong somewhere.

…Okay I know how that sounds.

So, before you judge me, let me just explain myself because I swear I have a valid reason for that train of thought.

Get all comfy in your seat or bed or sofa or…wherever else you are resting your as—bottoms on.

And if you're reading this while standing up in a crowded train or bus, well, I'm sorry for rubbing salt on your aching feet...or however, the saying goes (I’m good at taking creative liberties)

Now, once you're done with that, just think about this—saving kids.

I mean, it's the obvious thing to do, right? Saving kids? The youth. The future. Those little shining stars crying on earth.

You see a kid—not even sure whether or not the kid is a he or a she…not that that matters, I don’t know why I brought that up—being ganged up by three people dressed in black clothes from top to bottom, who are also a lot taller and a lot older than the aforementioned kid; what do you choose to do?

Save him!

Right?

Well, let me give you a bit of advice—

Don't.

You see, I did that.

I tried to save the kid.

I tried to do the right thing.

Which, in the hindsight, seems stupid.

For all I know, the kid had it coming. Because, let's be honest here, who hasn't felt the need to slap some kids before? Mind you, I'm not talking about any kid. No, not the sweet ones who smile when you smile, who wave when you wave, not the ones that are respectful of your personal space, not the ones who behave like humans instead of devil incarnate.

No, no, not them. Gods no, I’m not that crazy.

I'm talking about those annoying and disrespectful brats who get too close in your face, not even calling you bhaiya and instead choosing to call you uncle. Like seriously, uncle? Me? A 17-year-old guy living in the prime of his teenage life—sure, not an exciting one, but still!—and what do they call me? Uncle!

I mean, yeah, I have white hair. It’s not the most normal shade of hair to have at my age. I accept that. Been teased a lot about it. I was even scolded by certain teachers who thought I was dyeing my hair like that because yeah, that’s the shade a kid goes for—complete white.

That's a sure shot way to be a cool kid.

Like, who wants to have their hair be brown or blonde when you can instead look like the old man Mr Sharma from down the street, who is thrice the divorcee with bad eyesight, hearing problems and farts every five steps?

Heh, teachers...

But yeah, no, for the clarification, I do not dye my hair. Let me be perfectly clear about that. I just happen to have the early greying problem. Or rather whitening problem. Apparently, I got that from my mother.

Or atleast that’s what my Uncle says. Trust me, I’m not a big fan of the style too.

Anyways, the point being, I swear, if not for that kid's mother being around at that moment, I would have definitely bonked that kid’s head.

Does that make me a psychopath? Maybe. Probably. Definitely.

But, and I say this as a very thin silver lining, atleast I'll be happy with no regrets.

Still, despite all that, what do I choose to do? I choose to save a kid.

And yet, why is it that a giant tentacled monster is chasing after me with drool dripping off of its mouth?

Talk about no regrets! Where is my good karma here? Or does it only work if I believe in it? Because if that’s the case, it’s a shitty system to have.

Now...I understand that you’re confused.

Who is this psychotic guy talking about slapping kids? What monster is he talking about? Where are we? How long until my stop? Is that weirdo taking up the place of two people ever going to stand up?

And I’ll answer those questions. Well, most of those questions. One at a time, slowly and steadily. So, putting the chase on a pause, let’s begin. First and foremost—

Name: Aarav Vyas

Age: 17, 18 after 4 months if you really wanna know

Height and weight: 5’10” and 75.7 kg (I checked it two days ago, but with all this running, it's probably down to 75 now)

Occupation: Second-year student in Junior College, Commerce stream. (And for those who don’t know what the second year in Jr. College means, it’s the 12th grade)

Residence: Jivganj

And this—this is my story!

…of how I got chased by a monster.

PS: No, he is not getting up.

Also, PSS…PPS…the thing after PS: I do not mean babies, okay? When I said kids, I meant anyone above 8. There’s a clear difference in that, you monsters.

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