The Despicable Altruist From the moment we are born, we feel that , how we become or what we do, we are the sole participant, but somehow, all our lives are interconnected. You are but a mere pawn, cast forward by the great player's fate. You try, you rip your heart out, just for a small moment of solace, but all you get is more malice. Those were the thoughts or let's say his life until now for Satvik; he sat out alone along the rail tracks, pipe weed in his hand. He could hear the whistles of police patrol nearby, for the first time, despite being a smackhead, he had actually committed a felony and for the first time in years, he felt alive, maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the time away from judging, cruel eyes of the society

A Month before --

On a high bed, beside a pile of filth (read beer bottles) rests on equally despicable mess, Satvik, lost in his trances, the only place, he knows where he was wanted, the only place where he can roam about, without the burden of speculation. But, although, his senses were unresponsive, still responsibility, though everyone cunningly neglected his one quality he had, drew him away from his oasis. I have to go pick Atharva, he needs me, were his thoughts .Atharva, the apple of the eye of the old man. I should not let him explore the dark alleys which I can call my home now. He left ‘'earnest in the stride’’, cause he was doing what little he could do for the sake of his family. Satvik & Atharva, Sons of the fallen whistle-blower bureaucrat Parakram Dhaka, Their childhood, they spent seeing their father in a position of Power, the proud lion, righteous as God. All changed when their father was a scapegoat in the same scandal he exposed, their teenage experience from that part was poles apart. They saw an alcoholic nutcase moping through the house. He was the same lion, except that now he was in shackles. Satvik, was always fickle minded, restless, incredulous from birth. His father could not handle him, Urchin, according to him he was, not realizing he was in many ways what he had been; he had learning disabilities stemming from hyperactivity, coupled with the cane and preaching at school. He turned into a downright rebel, furrowed brows and scorns on faces, was not new to him anymore, because for years now, this was the kind of emotional response, he was gonna get. Things got better and worse as Atharva came into their lives, his mother Shyamdasi, got busy tending to him because he was born underweight although the attention he got in lieu of body mass was enough to smother generations, As for Parakram , this was the new beginning, he earmarked him as his heir, and somewhere down the road, Satvik was left stranded, he doted on his kid brother, cause jealousy and

malice had no place in his heart. He was the one who taught him to run around with a bat. He was the one who shielded him from the rage of the drunken devil which possessed their father at night. They were close until Atharva, though bright he was, viewed the true face of his brother as a mask, and always tried to see through him, because he in his selfishness could not imagine anyone being selfless. He groped for the ends of the mask, which was not there. ..................................................................................................

“I want to fly, fly far away, but I look down on Atharva, I feel my wings wither, what will become of them without me, who can take so much malice, but me, I must and I will shield them from the old man, until I no longer could, Anyways , its oasis time now. I'm off. I want a hit”. With that train of thought Satvik took on his second joint of the day, the addiction took him young although he met his devil, first in a benign way. As a child, he loved to paint, he approached the old man for a brush, he got the cane instead,'' Go out and play’’,"do something that men should do" , he said. Painting, for him as was music was ‘'too feminine'' .Satvik due to his restlessness took a long time to learn to ride a bicycle, his father watched on as he fell, never a word of encouragement, always a smirk of disappointment, he was considered effeminate by his father.

Satvik found art around the block, he saw a painter laying out lines on a white board, he requested him to let him draw, his work was nifty, he got applauded for the first time, that too by a stranger, but also along with it came the first whiff of ‘thinner', he could not drive away the urge to embrace that smell, he started to keep it handy , after dealing with the drunk old man at night, he would plunge into ecstasy, unlaid the bottle and take the thin road. It was a downhill ride from then on, grades deterred, his innocence withered, he knows very well, what he had become, but found it better to live in trances and not face the misery. The only thing which kept him on the edge of sanity was his aim, to keep addiction away from Atharva because he was and always will be his ‘Lil' bro, gifted in maths, 'masculine'. He is Dad's only hope. All that emotion, all that love made him explode with anger when he found a joint under his brother's bed, he cried, because instead of all his failures, he accumulated throughout his life, he failed at what he thought was most dear to him. He confronted Atharva. The response he got crippled his soul:

"So that was your game, Satvik, all those years cozying up to me, Trying to be my friend. I played along when we were young.

I was so naïve, you always envied me, you wished ,I was never born, I could see you moping around like a mongrel yearning dad's attention,

you know what, I don't need you to shield me anymore, yeah that was weed that you found there, what do you expect you are the only one who had it hard or that being a faggot gives you the right to feel in the dumps, try bearing the loads of expectation of the freaking family on your shoulders , go ahead and run to Dad, tell him what you found, let's see what havoc could the drunken buffoon bring upon me today, and if you don't have the balls for it put it down and leave, and take your caring ways with you if you could''. These exchanges with Atharva left Satvik petrified. ''Even him, even my beloved brother, thinks that way,' Old buffoon' after all these years and love, he called Dad that, he should not know this or he would lose his will to live, cause to him he is his ‘sun and stars', ‘balls', talking about guts, It was this ‘'faggot'' who withstood the brunt of Dad's beating for your sake while you were down on Ma's lap weeping like a widow, balls, the two-bit kid, Talks about balls, for the first time in years he felt rage, although it quickly subsided as he heard raised voices from Atharva's room. It was the weed, the old man caught him red-handed, he had to intervene, he thought for both their sake, he paced down the hall, and as a punch was about to fall on Atharva's gut he yelled ‘'IT WAS ME, I'm sorry I left it under his pillow by accident.''

PARAKRAM: I KNEW IT, I always knew, you were weak, At least you are man enough, to drain your frustration in weed, I expected you to run like a girl to your mommy and cry. This was it, he could not take it anymore, he had to put his suppressed anger into words tonight, he had to let poison flow from his mouth tonight.

SATVIK: So it is man enough to drown each day In that God forsaken bottle, I wanted to paint, that was too ‘feminine' for you, you have lived and drinking off Maa's earnings, if you care to notice, and listen up old man! A man does not have only balls, he provides, he fights for his family, when there is still hope left, not sit on an enormous amount of liquor.

PARAKRAM: Enough! Enough talk for a samckhead. What were you ever good at, always a loser! Shame on me, to have brought an oaf like you, into this world. Furthermore, you tried to ruin my gem of a boy. You are a filthy snake that you are in every sense, Leave now and never come back, hit the road, drop my name, I don't want you in my life anymore. Satvik looked at Atharva, he saw remorse, he felt good at last, there was something to hope for, he wanted to give him up for a moment but the tears in his brother's eyes held him back, without any retort, he left, the ‘Dhaka pride' was him in too, he left without any money. He boarded the bus, relieved himself of the little change he had left, and reached the park across town, from here on, started his struggle for his existence.

He came across a weird fact one day that the car locks were sensitive to pressure; he took a tennis ball, ripped a gash through it and setting it against it against locks of cars without safety alarms, opened doors to open the petrol lid, eventually to this day when he stole a car. Today…. After returning from the tracks, he searched the car for money, but instead found photographs, he found what he always yearned to have, there were photos of a child in a park with his family, a few of the rarest good memories came flooding back to him, he for the first time though, did I give up on them too early, should I fight and by some pull, maybe he was missing Mom's food. He started to leave; maybe he left in too great speed.

Meanwhile, Shyamdasi, had seen and tolerated enough, after a month of searching with absolutely No news, They got a call that a body was found in a stolen car matching Satvik's description, she approached Parakram. He refused to take him for identification, what followed was a tempest of emotions. "He died a thief but something tells me he was heading home, have you forgotten that you were the one who put him down with a brandy, just so because he ran after you a lot, for years I have seen his passions crushed. He had been a bad son, but you were no father either. A father would have shown him to take pride in his uniqueness, but you were just a bully to him. If you don't come with me, today I will leave without you, just because I have bent for you charismatic ways till now, doesn't mean I'm weak. My resilience has ended and if there remains in you a single bit of the man you were before come with me".

Seeing his son lying motionless in front of him something snapped inside Parakram. He felt pain that no one can numb, because although he died in an accident, it seemed as though he was strangled by him, his eyes were open and could not be closed as if watching an unfinished dream. The coroner brought in what was found on him, among the usual rubble, there was that crumpled photograph, behind it scribbled with a dying hand

I forgive you dad

I hope you forgive me

And most of all, forgive yourself