He glanced sideways at his lackeys, silently showing off his backup, then directed his next question at them as if blaming them, "Who pushed me?
Was it you?
Or you?"
The classroom fell silent.
Rohit ran his hands through his hair and felt a slick liquid—oil. His shirt was damp and stained against his back. A wave of disgust washed over him.
He saw near the third booth Harsha and Ujjwal grinning together.
Rohit stood up slowly. He'd had enough for the day. Removing his coat, he draped it neatly over his chair.
The middle guy mocked, "Oh! Diplomatic Gandhi got angry. I'm shakin' in my shoes."
Rohit loosened his tie, tossed it straight at Jignesh's face who was gawking like an idiotic ape.
The middle guy laughed again."Now, now… we're about to see the skeleton-pack abs." His buddies chuckled with him.
Ignoring them, Rohit's hands went to his belt.
"Whoa, whoa, we don't swing that way," middle guy taunted.
Then smack! — the belt cracked through the air, but it was the distraction as Rohit slammed his burger right into the middle guy's face, following it up with a sharp elbow to the jaw.
The middle guy dropped like a stone.
The one on his right swung a fist, but Rohit sidestepped to dodge, caught his tie and yanked him down hard. His head collided straight into the left-hand goon's incoming kick.
The right-hand guy stumbled sideways, crashing into Rohit's chair. The left one froze for a split-second—long enough for Rohit to slam a headbutt into him, sending him staggering.
Then came the whipping. Left, right—precise, brutal. Leather cracked against skin. The two flinched, reeled and collapsed.
The middle guy scrambled to his feet in panic, trying to bolt. Rohit's belt lashed out like a whip, coiling around his ankle. One sharp pull, and the man hit the polished floor face-first with a sickening thud.
Rohit walked up to him like a predator closing in on cornered prey.A hard kick to the chest made the man choke."Oops, my leg slipped," Rohit mocked.
He stepped on the man's fingers."Oops, didn't see those there."
The guy whimpered for mercy. Rohit pressed down harder."Sorry, can't hear you."
"Boss, please save me!" the thug cried out.
Rohit smirked. This time, he kicked him in the stomach, sending him sliding across the slick floor into a table leg.
"Should've said so earlier."
His gaze shot back to the third booth. He locked eyes with Ujjwal. Harsha nudged Ujjwal's shoulder.
Ujjwal stood with a menacing glare. He was taller and bulkier, and one look could tell who would win.
rohit wrapped his belt like a loose ball as he waited for him to come near.
Then, as he came within range, he threw it at Ujjwal's face like a coiled snake. Ujjwal was startled but ignored it; however, his movement slowed. With heavy strides, he tried to throw a punch, but he ducked, let him pass, and kicked him square in the back.
Ujjwal went down hard.
Before he could recover, Rohit grabbed a nearby chair, folded it halfway, and brought it down on his head with a solid Dhab!
Ujjwal buckled down, clutching his head, but Rohit didn't stop. He folded the chair properly again and this time hit him on his back and shoulders—enough to damage and hurt more, but not endanger his life.
Dhab! Dhab! Dhab! Dhab!
What went on was a brutal display of torture as Rohit turned into an unstoppable beast—until the chair actually bent.
By the time he stopped, All four lay sprawled like discarded mannequins—battered, bruised, but alive.
Huff! Huff!
Rohit's chest heaved like crazy. He glanced toward the third booth again. This time it was empty.
He lingered in the cafeteria and saw everyone stunned. Many had their jaws literally open, and this time their eyes held fear.
One kid had his phone out, recording. Rohit buckled his belt back on, took his tie from Jignesh without a word.
"Thanks," he said casually, slipping into his coat like a general putting on his uniform after battle.
Rohit stepped into the center of the cafeteria, his hands wide opened."Claps? Applause? Cheers?"
The whole place looked at him, puzzled.
He smirked. "Come on, people. If I'd saved your ass instead of mine, you'd be clappin' already. These clowns came to bully me. I just evened the score. Support me now, and I'll support you later."
Silence. Then a lone voice broke through.
A petite girl with glasses, sitting nearby, raised her voice."Yeah, I saw it. They poured the oil first."
A chubby-faced guy stood up. "Yeah! Last time they tripped me on the stairs."
More voices followed, each one spilling some story of these bullies' crap.
Jignesh, grinning like a hype man, stood on a chair and whistled. "That's my boy! Class 12-C. Everyone clap!" He started clapping like a madman until the someone joined in.
The clapping began slow—one, then two—and then the whole room erupted in applause.
The whole cafeteria erupted—cheers, whistles, even a couple of kids dancing like they'd just won the championship.
His friends rushed over."Bro, what happened to you today? You actually manhandled them." Subhojit said.
Arvind, the nerd of the group, adjusted his glasses."This… is called a man with pure guts and no extra powder."
Meanwhile, the beaten gang quietly picked themselves up and limped out like background extras in someone else's movie.
Rohit raised his hand in mock acknowledgment, spotting a kid still recording on his phone."You got all that?"
The guy nodded eagerly.
"Good. Let's take a selfie," Rohit said, pulling him in.
As the camera clicked, a distorted voice came from the phone's speaker:"Warning! Diplomatic Gandhi has turned into rebel Bhagat Singh!"
Rohit barked back, louder than the voice,"No Gandhi.
No Bhagat Singh.
It's Singhania—ROHIT SINGHANIA!!"
He leaned toward the boy with a grin."Put that name in the cover title and spread it everywhere. Can you do that?"
The boy saluted. Rohit patted his shoulder.
Then came a softer voice from behind. Sweta. Half-smiling, half-apologizing. "Sorry… because of me—"
Rohit cut her off with a raised hand, his expression cold. No words, just pure disgust before walking away.
The music of celebration died instantly. His friends scrambled after him.
"Bro, what's with the attitude?" Subhojit asked. "She came to apologize."
"I don't have time," Rohit said, not slowing down.
Arvind adjusted his glasses. "Where are you going?"
"Infirmary."
Jignesh caught up, panting. "What happened? Why'd you walk out like that?"
Before Rohit could speak, Subhojit jumped in, "Didn't you see? He straight-up ignored Sweta—the queen bee herself. She never talks to guys first! She basically offered herself, and he—"
Arvind cut in, "She didn't offer herself, you're exaggerating—"
"Shut up—"
Jignesh, still catching his breath, ignored them and smirked. "He's not an idiot. You guys didn't get it."
Both Arvind and Subhojit asked together, "What? Why?"
Jignesh took a few more breaths and said, "There's a saying in Gujarati—'Raise the price only when the demand's high.'"
The other two went quiet, understanding. Then, of course, started bickering ag
At the infirmary, Rohit made sure to sign in as injured before Ujjwal's gang could. He expected some commotion, but fortunately, Ujjwal's gang arrived late. Instead of complaining, they decided to meet in class with Harsha's gang to plan what's next. The delay gave Rohit the edge he wanted—it became first come, first served.
By the time the others showed up, the principal already knew everything. With no one willing to testify, both sides got suspended. The only difference? Rohit's suspension was one week—short enough to keep him in the game. Ujjwal's crew? A whole month to heal their bruises.
Later, riding home, Rohit scrolled his iPhone X, smiling. It has already been uploaded in social media handles.
Balwinder, his driver and bodyguard, asked carefully, "Young master, if you don't mind… I heard you had memory loss before. So today's school was kind of your first day back, right? How was it?"
Rohit chuckled. "Absolutely amazing."
"And why's that?"
Rohit leaned back like a king. "Because I just earned seven days of holiday… on my first day of school."