Scene 1: Amit's House
Amit reached home before sunset.
The house was small—two rooms, low ceiling, the smell of cooked lentils still hanging in the air. His mother looked up first when he entered, surprised.
"You're back early," she said. "First day finished?"
Amit nodded.
His father sat on the charpai near the window, shoes off, rubbing his feet. He looked up slowly, guarded, already preparing himself for disappointment.
"Class over already?" his father asked.
"Yes," Amit said.
No complaint.No excuse.
Amit placed his bag down and carefully took out the scrap motherboard, wrapped loosely in newspaper.
His father frowned. "What is that?"
"Homework," Amit said.
He placed it on the table like something fragile.
His father leaned forward.
The green board, with its copper lines and tiny components, meant nothing to him technically. He didn't know RAM from ROM. But it looked complicated. Dense. Serious.
"Sir gave it," Amit added quickly. "We have to draw it. Name the parts."
His father picked it up slowly, turning it in his hands.
"This is computer?" he asked.
"Yes."
His father nodded once.
"Good," he said simply. "At least you are touching real things now. Not just sitting."
Amit waited for more.
It didn't come.
No shouting.No lecture.No slap.
His father placed the board back gently, as if it might break.
"Wash your hands," he said. "Food is ready."
Amit went to the sink.
Behind him, his father looked again at the board.
For him, it was the latest technology—even if the world had abandoned it years ago.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt… content.
Scene 2: Mishra's Corner
Mishra sat near the back gate with two other peons, cigarettes burning low between their fingers.
Smoke curled lazily into the evening air.
"You should have seen his face," Mishra said, grinning. "First day and already he thinks he owns the lab."
One of the peons laughed. "The new one?"
"Yes," Mishra said, tapping ash onto the ground. "Dubai-return. Very straight. Very clean."
He took another drag.
"I pushed him a little," Mishra continued. "Let him know how things work."
"And?" another peon asked.
Mishra smiled wider.
"These cigarettes?" he said, lifting the pack. "Not mine."
The others chuckled.
"Next time," Mishra went on, voice lowering, "he will pay without being asked. That's how it goes."
One of the peons hesitated. "What if he complains?"
Mishra snorted.
"My wife works in Principal's house," he said casually. "Cleans. Cooks. Talks."
He leaned back.
"Principal's wife listens to her more than him."
The peons went quiet.
Mishra flicked his cigarette away.
"Everyone has a boss," he said. "Some people just don't know it yet."
Scene 3: Varun's Home
Varun stopped at the fruit stall before going home.
Apples. Oranges. A small bag—nothing expensive.
When he entered the house, it was already dark inside. The curtains were drawn. The fan turned slowly.
His mother lay on the bed, thinner than he remembered. Her breathing was shallow. Her eyes opened when she heard him.
"You're late," she said softly.
He smiled. "First day."
He washed his hands, placed the fruit near her bedside, and sat on the chair beside her.
She looked at him for a long moment.
"You should go back," she said suddenly.
Varun stiffened.
"To Dubai," she continued. "I don't want you stuck here because of me."
"You're not a burden," Varun said.
She shook her head slowly.
"I don't want to die there," she said. "Among strangers. I want to be here. With my people."
Her hand reached for his.
"I told you to send me back because I thought you would follow later," she said. "But now you're here… and I'm still sick."
Varun didn't answer.
Images from the day passed through his mind:
Amit's flinch.Saxena's ego.Mishra's grin.Seven repaired computers.Five hundred rupees gone.
He squeezed his mother's hand gently.
"I'll manage," he said.
She closed her eyes.
Varun sat there quietly, listening to the fan, to her breathing, to the weight of the day settling into his bones.
He had left Dubai for stability.
He had returned to India for responsibility.
And now, both were demanding payment.
Outside, the system slept.
Inside, Varun stared into the dark, already planning tomorrow.