Revenge of a Jilted Lover(Shibabrata Sen Chaudhury) Schooldays fun and fantasies never end for one with lifelong cherishing memories. But today I picked up the pen to write a villainous act of mine during my finishing months at school. Arrogant about my potential to hit big sixers during the death overs of cricket One-Days earned me the name ‘Zulu’, tagged by friends. It was labeled on me for the similar sporting style I possessed matching the South African cricketer Lance Klusener. Though, my cricketing exposure lasted till the college days. Following that period, the hectic professional schedule subdued field skills along with the unspotted crime committed during young adulthood. Looking back to that specific day when a heinous murder was plotted and planted for successful execution. Yes, a murder in cold blood that was named an unfortunate accident by the school principal. And it was not jealousy, but revenge of a jilted lover, where an innocent boy, Chandan, met his death, because he was in love with Dona, my ex-girlfriend.

It was approximately six months before that incident with Chandan when Dona broke away with me. The text message that I received on my mobile phone ‘Zulu, Its good time for us to break-off,’ was the last note of hers that kept me in agony till now. My attempts to patch things up with Dona had gone in vain. And within a span of short period I observed my classmate Chandan developing a good relationship with her. This move between them left me seething inside with boyish ego getting crazy for vengeance. Everything drove me towards crankiness in social life among my friends and family members. Finally, I learned about the venomous sting of Black Indian Scorpion at a Biology class that can lead to death of a man. The lesson kept whirling in my mind because I was in need of that species badly. People pray to God with several reasons, but nowhere have I met a young lad like me develop a fanatical wish to get hold of that particular species – Black Indian Scorpion. Moreover, I cannot share it with others, especially among the friends with hidden motives to fulfill an avenging grudge of mine.

Days went by as my quench for knowledge to dig out precise information about the scorpion and the murder plot grew in tandem. Deep studies on the fact scientifically were proving me wrong to make the plan full proof. Browsing through the Internet and several websites, I came across the fact that the Black Indian Scorpions are not completely lethal as defined by our school teacher. Still, I rested my hope on his words because those pests are easily available from villages in Maharashtra. As a resident of a city of that Indian state, I kept my fingers crossed to get access to someone to give a single sample of the species at any cost. So, lying to my parents I took a break from my hometown during Ganesha Chaturthi festival – ‘Mom, I shall leave for an excursion from school for next seven days. And please I also need some money from you’. Truly, I had no idea about the real fact away from home for the first time alone without company of any friend. Mothers usually get interrogative with their sons during late teenage. But should I not be smart enough to persuade her, if I had a much shrewder plan to fulfill in that early age of eighteen?
However, I needed to frame a story for staying at any available guest house for the place been planned to be visited. Smartly I took my School ID card and the Voter ID card as mark of identities to present any of the either on required situations. With a few clothes and necessary gear I packed my baggage for travel the next morning. A seven hours bus ride to Madgaon village from my hometown did literally drain the physical energy, but the brain nerves kept me alive, throbbing with pulse. The first move was to look for a guest house in that place where I stepped on after a long journey. Fortunately, I got friendly a boy traveling to the same place in that bus who told me name of a few nearby guest houses. Opting to visit a guest house that is a five-minute walking distance from the bus stop, the manager asked for identity prove to verify me genuinely. Spontaneously, the palm slipped into my chest pocket from where the Voter ID was presented to him and wrote in the logbook my purpose of visit as ‘Tourist’. A bath followed by sipping a bottle of energy drink was enough to revitalize my withering energy.

In the evening hours I decided to take a stroll in village market with certain motive of finding someone to deliver me a ‘Black Indian Scorpion’. Cautiousness grew into me naturally because I was growingly deceptive everyday. Yes, I am not a burglar, who needs to cover the face during burglary; but my motives were more lethal than what a normal person can imagine, out from my young looks. Besides, the ulterior motive cannot be talked with a many people openly. The school principal had declared a cricket match between Class XII and Class XI, as farewell match on next Saturday. And I cannot do away with this opportunity to make my plans executed, with Chandan being an opening batsman from our team. ‘But where do I find a scorpion?’, my mind kept whining with this thought. Two nights went by at Madgaon without any achievement to my plans when on the third morning a snake charmer visited in front of the guest house to display his show. Instant idea gripped my mind to question the man secretly later about the poisonous pest with optimism. ‘Yes’, ‘I got it’… a reaction of fulfillment of long desire when the snake charmer nodded for the availability of a scorpion. Somehow, I persuaded that person by pushing in a hundred-rupee note into his pocket in advance to maintain the secrecy about the entire discussion.

As decided, the snake charmer appeared at the local market the next morning with a large black colored scorpion. ‘God! Its look is enough daring to kill someone,’ was what I spoke to myself after he handed over a glass jar to me from where the pest was glaring dangerously towards me. I simply needed to pay fifty rupees more to him before leaving and carefully placed the jar inside my bag. With partial completion of my plans, I had to wait for the big day to appear eagerly. Mother was happy to see me back at home within three days because I told her the excursion might take around a week. So, back at home I had to keep the jar at a safe and untraceable place till the match day. Dona might have left me as a jilted lover, but my cricketing prowess can still make me a heartthrob of a many school girls. A few days left for the match, my presence at the nets during practice sessions was necessary. And it’s more motivating to discover the friends go gaga from the stands on every big shot I used to play.

Oh! The big day has finally appeared. It was a grandly organized sporting event at our school. The players of both the teams were lined up along with the match umpires. And I should not forget mentioning that prior to visiting the cricket ground, when Chandan and Dona were busy in romantic chats at the corridor; I sneaked into the classroom to set loose the scorpion inside Chandan’s sporting kit. Not a single life was present at the class because everybody, boys and girls from the entire school were ordered to be at the cricket ground by the principal to cheer both the teams. Now, its matter of time and a waiting game for me. The school principal appeared to the ground sharp at 12 noon. The captains of both the teams introduced him to their team players. A twenty overs match-a-side was decided. And it can be much shorter depending on the skipper’s decision and the vital toss. We won the toss and elected to bat. I knew, the time is not far away because Chandan is an opening batsman and shall soon unchain his cricketing kit to get padded up. I decided to sit in distance from him while he picked up the kit. The team captain called back everyone for a huddle, which irked my plans when Chandan dropped the kit to get back for the meeting. It’s a short discussion of around two minutes where I preferred to keep quiet for the first time during a cricket match.
‘Ouch… ouch’, everybody nearby rushed to Chandan, as I knew what have really happened there. ‘Yes, the scorpion stung him’. Other teammates who hurried to discover a big black scorpion crawling away from the spot and the brave heart hero of Dona fainted on the sidelines of the dugout. He was rushed to the hospital, and for a moment I was dubious if Chandan can be cured. No, the doctors could have treated him from a scorpion bite, but that timid fellow met instant cardiac attack with the dreaded sight. His pulmonary activities had stopped, that had brought a lifeline on zeroed graph. Alas! I never regained the love of Dona because guilt had always struck my inner voice till the time I had a glimpse of hers.

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