Sid woke up to the constant buzzing of his cellphone. His cell phone was vibrating for quite a time. How long? Five minutes? Ten minutes?

He remembered shooting a sleepy glance at the wall clock when it was eight past ten in the morning.

The darkness over his eyes cracked open because his phone was still buzzing. The daylight made his vision blur-motion when he darted his eyes at the wall clock again. It was nine past twenty. This realization made his eyes pull open. One hour and ten minutes!

The memories of yesterday came haunting his mind. He laid his eyes on his cellphone; the buzzing literally made the cell phone shift to the edge of the table. His hand reached to take hold of it. When he skimmed over all the notifications, miss calls, and messages pop-ups, there were hundreds of them. A surge of thrill shot up inside his heart. What in the blue hell is this? Did they make me viral?

Sid's phone began to buzz again; the name of Ronit popped up on the screen. The boy brought his cellphone to his ears.

"Come to my office asap," these words fell on the boy's ears like ice cubes. His insides were still numbed with thrill. "Okay," was the only word he managed to get past.

Out of excitement, the boy didn't even eat his breakfast. His mind kept on churning about assumptions. Now that he is viral, what should be the next move? If spirituality is a medicine, then it's gonna make many mouths bitter. He must play his cards right or else he'll blow it.

Sid's phone rang up again. His one hand reached to take it off, while the other hand waved at the autorickshaw. Sid picked up the call when he sat in the rickshaw.

"Yeah, speak up," he said, it was Ravi on the other end.

"Where are you, man?" There was a reprimanding tone in Ravi's voice.

"Just left home."

"Hmm." Ravi heaved a deep sigh. "You better start attending lectures because exams are close. You know they really nag for low attendance."

"I know!" Sid snapped. "By the way, you know I'm stuck with this debate. I can't attend lectures—" A spontaneous thought popped up in his mind. They can use this against me. "Alright, I'm coming to college."

"Alright, listen up." Ravi's voice took a blend of hesitation and embarrassment. "My dad has grounded me. Yesterday, he checked my bank statements and found out I made a big transaction. It's the fee we paid to Ronit."

"Shit!" Sid's hand reached to his temple, wrinkles of worry spread across his forehead. "What do we do now?"

"I'll tell him I trifle it away," Ravi said.

"No, no!" Sid's eyes doubled in size. "Don't do it! I'll arrange the money."

"How?!" Ravi was quick to respond. "You've already given a good amount to Nehali."

This word, Nehali, felt like a slap on Sid's ears. A lump formed in his throat at the realization that she was trying to meet him for two days. But the boy didn't give a damn about it.

"I'll see you around." He ended the call. He thumbed through every WhatsApp message to find hers. A cough like a lump blocked his throat when he caught sight of hundreds of messages sent to him by Nehali.

Of course, messages were full of a gamut of emotions. In some, the girl was angry. In some, she was sad or ranting, and in some, she was hurling insults.

Sid felt his fingers dictated him to write back, "hey there" to her. What the heck you just did?! Where is the goddamned explanation?!

In no time, the grey tick changed in blue. The three dots of typing flashed on the top, but within the blink of an eye, Nehali's profile pic turned into the grey silhouette of a woman.

"What the fuuuucc—" Sid recoiled, but he managed to put reign over his mouth before he could drop the f-bomb. He brought his cellphone over his head and tapped it in frustration.

What I feel, I can't say
But my love is there for you, any time of day
But if it's not love that you need
Then I'll try my best to make everything succeed

Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side?

As decided, he went to attend the lectures. He kept on running from one hall room to another. He listened to each lecture with honesty, and in the meanwhile, he informed Ronit that he'd turn up at his place in the evening.

During a breather, he even dared to go to Nehali's classroom, his eyes darted the entire class, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Then he ran back to his classroom to attend the next lecture. After the completion of the final lecture, he sprinted back to Nehali's classroom, wheezing and spluttering. He finally caught sight of her (there was a murderous look plastered across her face), but as he was about to head at her, a wave of students stormed out the classroom. The boy couldn't help but let the human current take him astray.

What I know, I can do
If I give my love now to everyone like you
But if it's not love that you need
Then I'll try my best to make everything succeed

Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side
Tell me, what is my life without your love
Tell me, who am I without you, by my side?

The boy only saw her going far away from him. He could do nothing but watch her go.

*****

"Damn, they literally edited out my part!" Sid burst out, he was now at Ronit's office. The spin doctor presented him with some video clippings to watch. "This is an edited video, making me look like I ran out of words. The video is incomplete, and they didn't show the part when I answered all those questions of Dr Nayak!"

"Lol, these are clipped videos. But the ones you are spammed with notifications are complete videos. Such out of context videos are a common sight these days. Like you take out some parts and make them mean totally different."

Ronit's face didn't show a single tinge of surprise.

"But this is wrong! Very wrong!" Sid snapped at Ronit as if he's the culprit. "It's like spreading mass misinformation. What if people never get to know the whole truth?" He presented Ronit with a questioning look that demanded several answers.

"Unfortunately, kid," Ronit leaned back on his chair like a lazy Sunday. "Many people never come to know the truth unless one is politically aware. What do you expect from this post-truth era, kid?" Ronit also sported a similar questioning look on his face with shrugging. "In this screen-age, people believe what they see on the screen. The good news is, many people are getting aware of you; the full unedited video will reach a hundred thousand views pretty soon."

"That's a relief." Sid almost signed, and the expression on his face turned somber. "You know, this post-truth or post-modernism never bothered me because I—"

"—search for the truth. Yeah, I get it." Ronit completed Sid's sentence. "I guess this is what we have to present you to the world." He grew pensive as he spoke further. "Seek the truth!"

Bang! Bang! Bang! This sound made them both jump in fear. Someone was knocking on the door.

Ronit walked up to the door to see who it was. His facial gestures broadened with surprise when he saw the guest. "Mister, Hassan, you?"

Mr Hassan wasn't what you'd call a middle-aged man—losing his youth. His grey suit made him look sprightly. He was a star, the leftist star. In his political circles, he was a man to keep eyes on. He reckoned no one could match his fertile wit and intellect. His style of treating things with a logical approach has always proven him superior to his rivals.

The spin stood staring for almost a minute, and when there was no "invite in" etiquette, Mr Hassan took the liberty to swaggered in. His lips wore a confident smile that brought attention to his black shades.

His right hand swang upward to take off the shades. The smile was still intact, and he shot a gaze at Sid, who was studying him back.

"Saw your video," he confessed with an appreciating look. "You were terrific," he added while walking up to the chair and sat on it without asking for permission.

"The edited or unedited one?" Sid raised a question; his left eyebrow shot up.

Mr Hassan couldn't hold himself from presenting the boy with a toothy grin. "Of course, your viral video!" he exclaimed.

As Sid parted his lips to talk, Ronit cut in, "So what's your agenda for coming here?" he walked up to Sid and sat near him.

The leftist star felt a vein pulsed in his forehead. His eyes journeyed from Sid to the spin doctor. "Why do you think I have an agenda?"

"Of course, you don't come here just to congratulate the kid, right?"

"Listen up, Siddhant." Mr Hassan turned his attention back to the kid, shrugging off Ronit's "wannabe-badass" attitude. "We want deep thinking people like you to join our political group. We're no-nonsense, anti-fascist, and liberal people who hope to see equality and social justice in society. If somebody like you like to join us, then it will help us with our cause—"

"—help us with our propaganda." Ronit rephrased with a chuckle.

Mr Hassan closed his eyes shut momentarily due to interruption, there was an annoyance surging with him, but he kept on with his intro. "In your last debate, you saw how some totalitarians were using foul language for Dr Nayak just because he asked logical questions. But I must say I love your way of answering. He didn't lose your cool, you didn't get furious, and your answers were logical. Unless those blind followers of alt-right fringe groups."

"Okay," Sid straightened his backbone before speaking his mind.

"—by the way, only an illogical or fascist don't agree with us." Mr Hassan quickly added.

"Look," Sid piped up, choosing his words carefully, "I don't like politics. Well, I don't mind what political leanings people have, but politics is not my cup of tea."

"Why not? Did you find me intolerant? Did you find me a bigot? Did I speak with you in a hateful language?" Mr Hassan's eyebrows were up with all these questions.

"No," Sid acknowledged.

"If you believe so, then if you don't wake up now. Soon this country will be ruled with this fringe ideology."

"But you know—" Sid felt almost out of words, "You know, politics is, I mean, I don't want to associate myself with anything. I just want to deliver this eternal message of Bhagavad Gita that we are beyond our material bodies, religion, nationality, gender, or anything."

"Nationalism!" Mr Hassan interrupted, "Yeah, I agree. We have got this toxic nationalism. People call us anti-national because we challenge fascist people."

"Well," Sid added. "That's not my point. What I want to say is—"

Mr Hassan interrupted again. "I understood, boy. Your belief is compatible with our political ideology. We're all-inclusive and believe in diversity—"

"The only thing," Ronit snapped, "you don't believe is the diversity of thoughts. You're interrupting him every now and then. Aw, that's so all-inclusive of you."

"What's wrong with you, man?!" Mr Hassan sprang up from his seat in rage. "I'm not talking to you, fa..."—he heaved a sigh—"Sid, you're an educated person. I just want you to be on the right side."

"No, I can't be a right-winger either." Sid quipped in his sporadic dry humor.

"Haha, so funny." Mr Hassan faked a laugh. "Listen up, boy. Soon alt-right will approach and brainwash you with their hate stories."

"Mr Hassan, if I may?!" Ronit intruded while he was looking for something on his cell phone. "Isn't this your tweet about Sid's edited video saying, 'another bhakt got owned.' But now that the unedited video got viral, you're here to woo him. Explain it."

An unedited ripple of fear spread across Mr Hassan's face. "Oh!" he said waveringly. "I thought he's one of those stupid debaters who couldn't argue logically but shout."

There was a shock on Sid's face as well.

"Please, leave the boy alone. He's not gonna be your lapdog." Ronit spoke Sid's mind as well.

"Alright!" Mr Hassan threw up his hands in exasperation. He picked his shades, which he had kept the moment he sat on the seat. "But mark my words, Siddhant, soon alt-right will brainwash you with 'our religion is in danger' crap."

The leftist star left as he came, swaggeringly. Sid couldn't get his mind straight for a moment. Doubt clouded his mind, and questions kept on hovering, but he was resolute in the teaching of Bhagavad Gita. We are not this body, but the soul. It also means we don't have anything to do with external ideologies that make us astray.

Mr Hassan, however, was right. Soon Youtube channel Ronit made for Sid flooded with several messages of aggressive nationalism. It was a shock for the boy how some managed to get his contact number. They ask him to join their political group so that together they will find these left-liberals and anti-Hindu forces.

Sid's answer was still the same. If we are not our bodies, but souls, then we are not Hindus as well. Of course, he met with harsh criticism. The boy's words were pessimistic for them. The typical Gandhian attitude, because of which their religion is in danger.

The rest of the calls were managed tactfully by Ronit, but Sid grew introspective with each of them. Again, questions crowded his mind. Will he be able to get across his message if these people are so adamant in professing their political ideologies? What will make him stand out from the crowd?

*****

"Hey there, Prakash," Stan spoke through his phone. "You are up next with that boy. Are you up for it?"

"Hell yeah, I am. Do you want me to destroy the kid?"

"Well, it won't go down that easy."

"I take your point there," Prakash said on the other end. "What would be the best thing to do?"

"Well, try to enrage him. Go all-out with your biting remarks on his faith. Insults Krishna, but logically, it will surely make him angry. No devout religious person can take logical criticism of his God. Once he loses his mind, he will attack you personally, and my man, you can beat him with the logical fallacy of ad hominem."

A wicked grin spread across Prakash's face.