Three Mistakes Of My Life(Chetan Bhagat) - Chapter 7：Dealing with a Bully

Beep, beep, beep. The horn of a car broke our conversation. A car zoomed

outside the pol.

‘What the hell! I am going to teach this bastard a lesson,’ Ish said, looking out

the window.

‘What’s up?’

‘Bloody son of a rich dad. Comes and circles around our house everyday’

‘Why?’ I said.

‘For Vidya. He used to be in coaching classes with her. She complained about

him there too,’ Ish said.

Beep, beep, beep, the car came near the house again.

‘Damn, I don’t want to miss this match,’ Ish said as he saw India hit a four. Ish

picked up his bat. We ran out the house. The silver Esteem circled the pol and

came back for another round of serenading. Ish stood in front of the car and

asked the boy to stop. The Esteem halted in front of Ish. Ish went to the driver,

an adolescent.

‘Excuse me, your headlight is hanging out.’

‘Really?’ the boy said and shut off the ignition. He stepped outside and came to

the front.

Ish grabbed the boy’s head from behind and smashed his face into the bonnet.

He proceeded to strike the headlight with his bat. The glass broke and the bulb

hung out.

‘What’s your problem,’ the boy said, blood spurting out of his nose.

‘You tell me what’s up? You like pressing horns?’ Ish said.

Ish grabbed his collar and gave six non-stop slaps across his face. Omi picked

up the bat and smashed the windscreen. The glass broke into a million pieces.

People on the street gathered around as there is nothing quite as entertaining as

a street fight.

The boy shivered in pain and fear. What would he tell his daddy about his

broken car and face?

Ish’s dad heard the commotion and came out of the house. Ish held the boy in

an elbow lock. The boy was struggling to breathe.

‘Leave him,’ Ish’s dad said.

Ish gripped him tighter.

‘I said leave him,’ Ish’s dad shouted, ‘what’s going on here?’

‘He has been troubling Vidya since last week,’ Ish said. He kicked the boy’s face

with his knee and released him. The boy kneeled on the floor and sucked in air.

The last kick from Ish had smeared the blood from his nose across his face.

‘And what do you think you are doing?’ Ish’s dad asked him.

‘Teaching him a lesson,’ Ish said and unhooked his bat stuck in the

windscreen.

‘Really, when will you learn your lessons?’ Ish’s dad said to him.

Ish turned away.

‘You go now,’ Ish’s dad said to the beeping driver, who folded his hands. Seeing

that no one cared about his apology, he trudged back to his car.

Ish’s dad turned to his neighbours. ‘For one whole year he’s been sitting at

home. Ran away from the army of his own country and then wants to teach

lessons to others! He and his loafer friends hanging around the house all day

long.’