Time passed, and Karikalan's days were no longer consumed only by despair. Though the wounds of Elara's cruelty still haunted him, he began to search for ways to rebuild himself. Hunger and survival pressed upon him, forcing him to look for a job to fulfill his basic needs.
Each rejection, each small struggle, reminded him of his vow: "One day, I will become stronger than anyone." Strength was no longer just about muscles or revenge — it was about endurance, about proving that he could rise even when the world tried to bury him.
At the same time, his teacher's words echoed in his mind: "Pain is not your enemy. It is a test. Dharma is forged in fire."
Karikalan realized that to defeat Elara, he needed more than anger. He needed discipline, knowledge, and a path that would allow him to grow without being chained by humiliation.
One evening, after a long day of searching for work, he sat with his teacher. The advice was simple but profound:
"Karikalan, stop chasing the shadows of college halls where your torment began. Continue your studies through correspondence. Learn at your own pace, away from those who seek to break you. Education is not about the place — it is about the strength it gives your mind."
The decision was painful, but liberating. Karikalan withdrew from college and enrolled in correspondence classes. It was not the path he had imagined, but it was one that allowed him to focus on both survival and growth.
By day, he searched for work to sustain himself. By night, he studied, his mind sharpening like a blade. Each lesson, each struggle, became a step toward the strength he sought — not just to defeat Elara, but to understand the mystery of good and evil that surrounded his life.
Karikalan walked through the familiar corridors of the college, his steps heavy with both hesitation and resolve. He had come to make a decision that would change the course of his education. Standing outside the principal's office, he waited quietly, his mind replaying the struggles that had brought him here.
After a few minutes, the door opened, and he was invited in.
The principal looked up with a warm smile. "Yeah! Karikalan, it's been a long time since I saw you, man. How's your health?"
Karikalan bowed slightly, his voice respectful. "Yes, sir. It's fine. And it is an honour to be praised by you."
The principal leaned back in his chair. "Then tell me, what brings you here today? Is there something special about this visit?"
Karikalan took a deep breath. "Yes, sir. I have decided to stop attending day classes. Instead, I want to continue my studies through correspondence."
The principal's smile faded into surprise. "What are you saying, Karikalan? I know about the incident that happened, but ignoring day classes and staying at home through correspondence is ridiculous. You won't be able to understand the real teaching methods of the staff, and you won't be able to clarify doubts by yourself."
Karikalan's voice was steady, though his heart carried the weight of pain. "Sir, I know about these things. But it is my decision. Even if I try to enter my class again, it will turn into a knife for me. The situation is not good in this college."
The principal hesitated, his expression troubled. "Yes… I know about the situation. I know who did this to you. I am sorry. Because of my fault, you were humiliated. But beyond me, there is a power that controls me, forcing me to keep my hands in cuffs."
Karikalan's eyes softened. "It's okay, sir. Sometimes things turn out of control. Even if we have the power to stop them, it is impossible to nullify everything. Some matters cannot be undone."
The principal was stunned. He thought to himself: What kind of world are we living in? Who is this boy? He acknowledges me even though he knows I could have stopped the matter. I thought he would be angry at me, but instead he shows no anger. Karikalan… one day you will become a greater person.
Finally, the principal spoke aloud, his voice filled with admiration. "Well, Karikalan, I am amazed by your answer. I grant you permission to carry on your college course through correspondence. All the best for your future."
Karikalan bowed deeply, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, sir."
As he left the office, his heart carried not just approval, but a quiet strength. His path was no longer tied to humiliation — it was tied to his own choice, his own dharma.
Karikalan stood quietly near the principal's office, waiting for the letter that would confirm his transfer to correspondence study. His mind was heavy with thoughts of survival and determination, but his posture remained calm, almost invisible in the corridor.
Down the aisle, Elara and his friends strolled in, their voices echoing with careless laughter.
"Hey guys, it's been boring to stay in class nowadays," one of them complained.
"Yeah, me too," another chimed in. "The classes are getting worse, and the staff keep piling tasks on us."
Rajan smirked, turning toward Elara. "I can't believe you, Elara. Are you serious about this? I never expected this from you."
Elara frowned. "Why are you so anxious about it?"
Rajan leaned closer, his tone mocking. "We have nothing to do in class, but you… you already committed to one girl. You'll never get bored."
Elara's face flushed red. "Stop, Rajan. Don't say that out loud in front of others."
The gang erupted in laughter, their voices bouncing off the corridor walls. But the laughter faltered as their eyes fell upon Karikalan, standing silently near the office door.
The atmosphere shifted. The mocking tone dissolved into uneasy silence. Karikalan's presence was like a shadow — a reminder of the cruelty they had inflicted, and the strength he carried even in his quiet suffering.
For a moment, no one spoke. The gang exchanged glances, their laughter dying in their throats. Elara's embarrassment deepened, not because of Rajan's teasing, but because Karikalan's gaze was upon him — steady, unyielding, and filled with a quiet fire.