On the day of the exam, Arnab asked Jayantada for a day off, and when he entered the examination hall, all his preparations of the last few days were distilled in a frenzy of writing as he began tackling the questions. He barely looked up to see what was happening around him or to even check the time. When he did finally look up, he had finished the paper, and realized that he had completed with a few minutes to spare. One final check, and Arnab handed in his paper and walked out, feeling that he had acquitted himself as well as he could have hoped to have done.
That evening, as he was sitting at home watching TV, he heard a knock on the door. It was Chintu.
'Uncle, mummy says that the superhero is not for real. Please come and show her. Please show her how strong you are and that you're the superhero.'
It suddenly struck Arnab that amidst all that had happened; he had totally forgotten that Chintu was the other person who had an inkling of his powers. Then he reminded himself that he was just being paranoid. Nobody would take a little child's talk about a superhero in the building seriously, especially when that superhero was Arnab Bannerjee.
'Chintu, there is no superhero. It was all a story. Now go on home, your mummy will be looking for you.'
But the little boy would not give up easily. He looked at Arnab with innocent, hurt eyes, pleading with him.
'But I know you're for real. I know. Please tell them that you're not just a story.'
'Chintu, there is no goddamn superhero. Now go home!'
Sobbing, Chintu ran away, and Arnab cursed himself for having lost his temper with a little child. Just then, Khan entered his room.
'Arnab, shouting at a child won't make you feel better.'
Arnab looked at Khan and knew what was coming so he pre-empted it.
'Khan chacha, I cannot do it any more. It is just not worth it. I just want to get back to my normal life.'
Khan sat down on a chair opposite Arnab.
'Arnab, why do you assume you can conclude whether it's worth it or not? Ask the hundreds, if not thousands of people whose lives and property you've saved. The people whom you've given some hope that there is someone who will stand up for them.'
Arnab was going to have none of it.
'Yes, the same people who are today out to crucify me! They deserve what they're getting.'
'Arnab, you don't really mean that.'
'No Khan chacha, I do. I mean every word of it. I have had enough. Enough of being a victim of circumstances, enough of being at the mercy of people like Balwant Singh. Finally, I'm going to lead my life the way I want.'
Khan decided to try one last time.
'Arnab, but don't you see? You were making a big difference. You had such a sense of purpose. What you were doing meant so much to so many people. Surely, it must be worth fighting for.'
Arnab was in a foul mood and instantly regretted the next words out of his mouth.
'Khan chacha, I can't mess up my life because it gives you a sense of purpose.'
A sad expression clouded over the old man's face, and he left without saying another word. Arnab slammed his fist into the wall, angry with himself for having hurt the man who had saved his life. But there was no way he was going to go back on his decision. As he turned on the TV, he noted with exasperation that the anchor was talking about him.
'As we've been reporting, the so-called superhero has disappeared. Perhaps he has gone into hiding after his scandals were exposed on this channel. Perhaps it is time we all learnt that we are indeed in the age of vice and evil and not an age where there are any genuine heroes to be found.'
NINE
Arnab truly felt that the best decision he had ever made was to get back to what had been his normal life. While he waited for the entrance exam results to come in, he dove into his work with an unprecedented frenzy. Even Jayantada, forsaking his usual sarcastic comments, took him aside one day.
'Arnab, I wanted to tell you something.'
'Sure, Jayantada.'
The old man shuffled a bit and looked down at his feet. Clearly complimenting someone did not come easily to him.
'Arnab, you have been doing your work so well that I feel like I don't even need to be here. Well done.'
Arnab just said thanks, but he was thrilled within, and contrasted how much easier it seemed to get appreciation for doing his job compared to the mess he had got into when he had begun to harbour delusions of accomplishing something more with his life. He met Jayantada just before leaving work to share something he had begun working on in his spare time-an idea to totally overhaul and computerize the library's records and catalogue. Jayantada looked it over with interest, while Arnab waited anxiously for his reaction. His biggest fear had been that Jayantada would resist changing how things had been done for years.
'Arnab, this is a big change versus how we have done things.'
Just as Arnab began to hang his head in disappointment, Jayantada completed the sentence.
'But this is a brilliant idea. I'll set up time with the Principal and I would like for you to present it to him.'
Arnab left college that evening feeling like he was on top of the world. On the bus ride home, he was engrossed in a novel he had picked up from the library, when he saw three boys get on the bus. Almost immediately, they started passing comments about some of the girls in the bus, and one of them walked up to a group of four girls and asked them if they were free for a date. The girls just hung their heads, trying to ignore him, while the other boys roared with laughter. When one of the boys reached out to touch one of the girls, she shrank back. Involuntarily, Arnab got up, scanning the situation. He would take out the boy on the right first. He had his back to Arnab and would never see it coming. The smaller boy on his left was to be next. A simple jab at short range would sort him out. The leader of the pack, the big lout now near the girls, would be last. Arnab would let him take the first shot, and then dispatch him. Sharpened with months of practice and action, all of that planning took a nanosecond, and Arnab was about to spring into action, when he stopped himself.
What was he thinking?
He had decided what direction he wanted to choose, and he did not want to look back, no matter how much he was tempted. He quietly sat down and tried to read his book as the harassment continued for five minutes, ending when the girls got off at the next bus stop. Back home, he did think about whether he had done the right thing by ignoring the incident on the bus, but every time he did so, he would glance at the newspaper clippings denouncing him as a fraud, opportunist, gun for hire or worse. No, he had chosen his path and would stick to it.
The next day brought with it a courier delivery boy who caught Arnab just as he was about to leave for work. As Arnab took the envelope and opened it, he blinked in disbelief a couple of times. The letter began,
'Dear Mr. Bannerjee, we would like to inform you that you have qualified in the written examination for the State Banking Services. You need to appear for an interview.'
He read no further and sat down, relief flooding over him. He had been hoping against hope that he would qualify, and while he had prepared as well as he could have, with limited time to prepare and the turmoil going on in his mind, he had never been sure he would make it. Yes, there was still an interview to clear, but clearing the entrance test was a big milestone that gave him the confidence that he could indeed make it.
The next week passed by quickly. His presentation to the Principal was a resounding success, and he got the funding and upgraded computer he had requested to put his system in action. All day, he would toil away at his new pet project, and from time to time, Jayantada would come and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder at what he was doing. He usually said nothing, but one day when Arnab called Jayantada to demonstrate how the system would look like and how to operate it, he smiled at Arnab and said,