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"What am I in India in 2014?"

"A man, after death, crosses the boundaries of his universe and enters a parallel universe, where he meets Krishna and reborn in 2014 with a few gifts Krishna has given him. Now, let’s see how he will influence the world of politics, business, art, and other industries." ________________ "I wasn’t sure where to categorize this novel, so I placed it in the fanfiction movie section. Although much of the story is original, it includes names, events, and real-life characters. I did not intend to hurt anyone, and if I have inadvertently offended anyone, I apologize."

TheOneWithoutName · 映画
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18 Chs

8.“A Gift, Huh? Who Gave It To You—A Friend Or A Girlfriend?”

I sat at my bench, absently tapping my fingers on the wooden surface, my thoughts drifting as the classroom buzzed with low chatter. It was an off-period, and I was just relaxing, enjoying the rare peace of not having to focus on a lesson. My mind kept wandering back to the fact that today, Dad and I were finally going to buy the MacBook. Two days had crawled by since I first asked, and now, the excitement was building up.

Suddenly, Swara's voice cut through the murmurs. "Don't talk loudly!" she scolded, the tone of a class monitor trying to maintain order but not quite succeeding. Her command had some effect though, as the noise level dropped slightly, but people were still chatting, just in a softer tone now.

I turned my gaze toward Yash, who was sitting beside me, lazily flipping through the pages of a textbook he clearly wasn't reading. He looked distracted, lost in his own thoughts. I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. "So, how does it feel to be popular?"

Yash gave me a sideways glance, his expression unenthused. "It's just a headache," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Come on, you've got people asking for autographs!" I teased.

Yesterday, someone had uploaded a video of Yash singing onto YouTube, and since the moment we walked into school today, he had been bombarded with questions. Every person seemed to recognize him, and some even called him "the YouTube singer" in passing. He'd become an overnight sensation in school, but I could tell it wasn't exactly the kind of attention he was enjoying.

Yash shrugged, flipping another page. "Yeah, but it's not like I did anything that big. I just sang one song. Now everyone's acting like I'm the next Arijit Singh."

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms, amused by his reaction. "That's what happens when someone uploads a video of you and it goes viral. Just enjoy the moment, man. Fame doesn't knock twice."

He finally glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. "And what about you, Mr. Anonymous Superstar? You're the one who hypnotized the entire crowd with your song. No one even knows it was you. Everyone keeps asking me about that 'guy with the guitar' who was 'so mysterious under the tree.' You think no one's noticed?"

I shrugged, feeling a bit more comfortable with my low profile. "Let them wonder. It's not like they got a good look at my face. Shri's the one who sings, remember?"

Yash nodded, leaning back in our bench. "Right, Shri the mysterious singer. I still don't get why you don't just tell people the truth."

I couldn't help but laugh, but before I could say anything else, a girl's voice from across the room caught my attention.

"Hey, Swara, did you watch that song video?" she asked, loud enough for most of the class to hear.

Swara didn't even bother to look up from her notes. "Which video? If you're talking about that pig Yash's video, I'm not interested," she replied with her usual bite.

Hearing her harsh words, I burst out laughing again, and Yash's face instantly flushed a deep shade of red, his fists clenching around the edges of his book. His anger was palpable, but before he could explode, I quickly leaned over and whispered, "Just ignore her, Yash."

Yash shot me an icy glare, his frustration barely contained. "I ignore her, and you laugh at me?" he muttered, clearly not pleased.

I raised my hands in surrender, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, bro, couldn't help it."

He huffed and turned back to his book, refusing to engage further. I could tell he was doing his best to cool down, flipping through the pages of his textbook as if it held the answers to his sudden surge of annoyance. I tried to suppress the grin on my face, feeling bad for him, but the situation was just too funny.

The conversation across the room continued, pulling my attention back to the girls.

"No, not that video. I mean the other one. Didn't you see it?" the first girl asked, her excitement growing.

Swara, who was clearly bored with the topic, was about to dismiss the girl again, but before she could say anything, another girl chimed in. "I watched it! The song's called Kaun Tujhe. Oh my God, what a beautiful song, right? But it's so frustrating that the video doesn't show the singer's face!"

Hearing this, another girl chimed in, her voice full of excitement. "Yeah, unfortunately, we couldn't see his face, but I did hear the singer say his name—he's called Shri!"

The first girl's eyes widened. "Oh my god, yes! And I heard he has long hair, looks super cute and handsome, and his voice—it's like... I don't know how to describe it! It's so beautiful that people actually started to cry, and even animals and birds stopped to listen."

I froze for a second. My heart raced as they pieced together bits of the truth, though they didn't know who "Shri" really was. I could feel Yash watching me from the corner of his eye, clearly amused by my predicament.

One of the boys on the other side of the room scoffed. "Isn't that a bit too much? You girls exaggerate everything."

The girl whipped her head towards him, her face scrunched up in annoyance. "What do you know, monkey face? They said he's young, like us, and still, his voice is that incredible. A voice that can make anyone's heart melt! Even yours, if you had one."

A few girls giggled at her comeback, and the boy sat back down with a frustrated grunt.

Another girl joined the conversation, her voice softer but filled with curiosity. "I also heard he was wearing a locket around his neck. Something that was shining during the performance."

At this, my hand instinctively moved to the peacock feather locket hanging around my neck. I could still remember how it had glowed faintly while I was singing.

Hearing this, another girl couldn't contain her excitement and blurted out, "If the rumors are true, just imagine how handsome he must be!" She leaned over and whispered to her friend, though her "whisper" was loud enough for half the class to hear, "Do you think he's as handsome and cute as Hari?"

I let out a soft sigh, slumping a little in my seat. Here we go again...

Her friend giggled before whispering back, "I don't know, but... do you think it could be Hari himself?"

The first girl frowned, shaking her head slightly. "I don't think so. He's Hari, and that singer's name is Shri. But..." she paused, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though still plenty loud for me to hear, "Do you think either Hari or that Shri has a girlfriend? If not, maybe we could try in the future!"

As the other girl was about to respond, Swara suddenly stood up from her bench, her face scrunched in frustration. "I said don't talk!" she snapped, her voice cutting through the chatter like a knife.

The entire classroom fell into an awkward silence. Everyone, including me, immediately quieted down, their eyes now darting nervously toward Swara. I sat there, minding my own business, trying not to draw attention, but I noticed her eyes suddenly land on me.

'What the hell?' I thought, tensing up. 'What did I even do? I wasn't talking to anyone!'

Before I could process what was happening, Swara strode over to me. Her eyes narrowed, and without warning, she reached her hand toward my neck, her fingers brushing against my collar as if searching for something. I instinctively leaned back, eyes wide.

"What are you doing, Swara?!" I exclaimed, quickly shielding myself. "This is harassment!"

Swara didn't even flinch. "Don't move. Stay still," she ordered, her tone far too calm for comfort.

I blinked in disbelief. "What do you mean, stay still? This is totally inappropriate! Everyone's watching!" I whispered, my heart pounding in my chest. My pulse quickened as her hand hovered dangerously close to my neck.

She paused for a moment, glancing around the room, before shooting an angry glare at the other students. "What are you all staring at? Do your work! Look away!" she barked.

Immediately, the rest of the class awkwardly averted their gazes, pretending to focus on their textbooks, though I could feel their eyes still flicking toward us.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Swara, seriously..."

"Don't move," she commanded again, this time more firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, I stopped fidgeting, too confused to protest further. Swara's hand finally found what she was looking for—my peacock feather locket. She held it in her hand, her eyes narrowing as she inspected it closely. For a brief moment, she looked from the locket to my face, her expression unreadable.

Seeing Swara scrutinizing me, I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. "Wh-what? It's nothing! What are you thinking? I'm not that singer; his name is Shri, and mine is Hari," I stammered, trying to deflect her attention.

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Doesn't it sound good and unique? Shri Hari—do you think it's just a coincidence?"

I shook my head vigorously, desperate to dispel any connections. "It doesn't sound good or unique at all! And you know I can't sing!" My voice grew a bit louder, hoping to drown out her suspicions.

Swara narrowed her eyes, staring directly into mine as if trying to read my thoughts. I instinctively looked away, feeling exposed under her gaze. "This locket is beautiful," she remarked, her fingers brushing against it delicately. "It must be expensive."

I forced a smile, trying to sound casual. "It's not expensive; it's just 50 rupees."

Her expression shifted to one of mild surprise. "Oh? Then where did you buy it?"

I felt a wave of relief wash over me that the topic was shifting, even if just slightly. "No, I didn't buy it. It's a gift."

Hearing her question, I felt a slight tension in the air. Swara raised an eyebrow, her tone playful yet piercing. "A gift, huh? Who gave it to you—a friend or a girlfriend?"

I could see a glint in her eyes, a warning that if I so much as hinted at a girlfriend, it would be the end of me. Keeping my smile steady, I replied, "I don't even have friends besides Yash, so forget about a girlfriend."

Swara turned to Yash, who nodded vigorously, almost too eagerly. It was as if he was trying to distance himself from any rumors. Then she focused back on me, her gaze intense. "Then who gave you this locket?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep the mood light. "Ajoba gave it to me."

Hearing this, I noticed Swara's expression shift, her playful demeanor softening. "Sorry for my earlier behavior. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" The genuine concern in her eyes took me by surprise.

I smiled, trying to reassure her. "No, it's fine! I'm okay."

A relieved smile broke across her face, and for a moment, the tension between us dissolved. She glanced at the group of girls who had been discussing me, then returned to her bench with a satisfied nod, as if to assert her territory.

But my mind drifted elsewhere, mulling over the unexpected interaction. 'What just happened? Why did I suddenly think of Krishna's playful smile? Did he do something?' I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but it lingered in the back of my mind.

Then I caught a glimpse of Yash, who was struggling to suppress his laughter. His shoulders shook slightly, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed. I nudged him with my elbow, trying to convey my frustration. "What's so funny?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Nothing, just… you know how it is."

The rest of the school day unfolded in a blur of classes and chatter, but a strange lightness hung in the air. Despite the swirling thoughts, a small smile crept onto my face. I felt strangely buoyed, like I was navigating a current that was both familiar and exhilarating.

(Word's Count:-2050)