20th Century Boy Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : (Fear of Past)

Time moves slowly, but passes quickly. (Alice Walker)

The streets of Lahore whispered stories of the past, but Ali was still trying to find his place in the present. He had been back only a day ago, yet memories flooded his mind at every turn. His first meeting with Amara had stirred something deep inside him—an ache he hadn’t realized still existed.

It was really hard to express what was going on deep inside his head. Feelings of love resurfaced after a long time, making him more confused day by day.

You can’t control who you love. You can’t let logic get in the way. Love just happens whether you want it to or not. (Alice Hoffman, The Third Angel)

This is how his first day of university ended. He came back home, opened the door to his room, threw his bag on the table, and flopped himself onto the soft bed while watching the drowning sun from the window.

His eyelids grew heavy, the warmth of the setting sun fading into darkness. Slowly, reality melted away, replaced by the scent of roses, their relaxing aroma filling the air. Suddenly, a fire sparked from a nearby house and began spreading all around. An echo called to him, "Come here, Ali." Following the voice, he reached the edge of a mountain cliff, facing the clouds. The fire swallowed the roses, just as loss had swallowed his childhood. The voice calling him—was it hers? His mother’s? He was falling again, just as he had the day she disappeared. He screamed out loudly, "Who are you?" Someone replied, "I am someone so near to you. Why can't you see me?" A chill ran down his spine as he felt a presence approaching him. Before he could turn, someone pushed him hard. He fell off the cliff, screaming, "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" and he woke up, drenched in sweat. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he got up and went to the first floor of the house by downstairs, opened the refrigerator in the hall, and grabbed a bottle of water with trembling hands in his uneven breath. He drank it until he felt relief. He sat beside the fridge, trying to calm his anxiety. Nightmares like this had haunted him since childhood. It had been ten years since his mother left him, but the fear of the past still chased him like a ghost. For this reason, he pushed people away—not because he didn't need them, it is because he didn't want to get hurt by trusting them again, when you put too much trust in someone you are bound to get hurt by others. He had learned that lesson the hard way, and he wasn’t willing to make the same mistake again.

Pain demands to be felt. (John Green, The Fault in Our Stars)

 A week had passed since Ali’s return, yet he still felt like a stranger in his own home. His relationship with his father is still struggling like a song that’s lost its melody. On campus, however, the rhythm of student life offered a temporary escape." It was a usual day like any other at UOL. He was sitting on the bench across his department in the sunlight have a book in his hand which he was about to open “The Alchemist", was the title of the book. ("The Alchemist" is a novel by Paulo Coelho, a Brazilian author. It tells the story of Santiago, a boy who goes on a quest to find treasure in Egypt, meeting a series of characters who transform him from a shepherd into a powerful man of Egypt.)

The Department of Psychology was beside Ali’s Literature department, separated by the lawn of grass having the roses and marigold flowers grown at the corner of the lawn. When sunshine falls on the grass it gives the shine of a peaceful green color that can pacify the soul of the reader too. "One can find peace in nature if one seeks it," Ali thought.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our daily lives that we forget to take the time out to enjoy the beauty in life. (Nicholas Sparks)

 Amara spotted him sitting on the bench. She tiptoed behind him, making sure he couldn't hear her approach. Ali was engrossed in his book when suddenly, she shouted, "Booooooh!"

Ali startled for a second, his book flying into the air before landing on the ground. Amara burst into laughter. "You scared me! My heart stopped for a moment," he complained.

"Oh, come on," she grinned, rocking back on her heels. "Still as easy to startle as ever. What would you even do without me to keep you on edge?" she teased.

"You know my weakness, and you enjoy messing with me," he replied, picking up his book.

She sat beside him. "What are you reading so passionately?"

"The Alchemist," he replied.

His eyes collided with hers for a second when he tried to look around, the blue lens of hers got his attention, in that moment he forgot to turn and blink, just like time had frozen from his world. Will she be able to fill his dark life with the color of happiness?

A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities. (J.R.R. Tolkien)

Amara snapped her fingers to grab his attention, what are you thinking about?

He murmured, "You."

"What?" she asked, puzzled.

"Nothing, I just thought something was on you. He moved his hand toward her face and picked the broken hair from her cheeks.

"She gasped, swatting at her cheek as if the stray strand had burned her. 'Ugh! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?'

Ali leaned back, smirking. 'It was amusing to watch you act all confident with it sitting there the whole time.'

Blushing, she covered her face and ran away. Ali tilted his head, confused. "Why did she leave? Understanding girls was like deciphering poetry—just when he thought he grasped the meaning, another layer unraveled before him," he muttered.

She was a puzzle he could never solve, and he was a poem she could never read.

The laughter from his moment with Amara still echoed in his mind as he made his way inside the department. But the lightness faded the moment he stepped into the classroom. The air felt heavier. A low murmur of taunts reached his ears. At the back of the room, a group of boys circled a lone student, their sneers sharp enough to cut.

They were teasing him for being poor. One of them demanded he must have to do his homework, but when he refused, Ayub—the leader—stood up and slapped him so hard that he hit the wall and collapsed to the floor.

"Who the hell are you to refuse, bastard?" Ayub sneered.

The class fell silent. No one dared to intervene.

The next day, the scene repeated like a ritual. The same cruel smirks, the same fear in the victim’s eyes. One boy beside Ali stiffened, his fists clenching, as if ready to step in. But before he could move, his friend yanked him back by the wrist. “Don’t,” he whispered urgently. “Unless you want to become his next target.”

 "Don't you know who he is?" he whispered.

"Isn’t he a human being?" the boy asked.

"Worse than those," his friend replied. "His friend leaned in, voice barely above a whisper. 'Ayub’s father owns half the factories in this city. One call and your family could lose their jobs overnight. That’s why no one stands up to him. It is better to not indulge with them unless you want your life to be a complete nightmare..."

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. (T.S. Eliot)

One day, Ayub called the boy and ordered him to bring his snack from the canteen Ayub leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “One minute. No excuses,” he said, tossing a crumpled bill toward the boy.

The boy bolted from the room, weaving through the crowded hallway. He skidded to a stop at the canteen, hands shaking as he grabbed the snack. Racing back, he stumbled through the doorway, panting.

Ayub glanced at his watch. “Five seconds late.”

The boy barely had time to react before the first slap landed, sharp and merciless.

Ali had seen enough. His jaw tightened, fingers curling into a fist at his side. His mind screamed at him to stay out of it—he knew how these things worked. People with power always crushed those who resisted. And yet, his body moved before his thoughts could catch up. His hand shot out, gripping Ayub’s wrist mid-swing. The slap never landed. Silence slammed into the room like a wave, every pair of eyes locking onto them.

A few students exchanged nervous glances, unsure if they should step in or stay silent. Ayub’s expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. No one had ever dared to challenge him before. The tension crackled in the air, the next move uncertain.

"Who the hell is this new guy? Doesn’t he know whose authority rules here?"

Ali, undeterred, said, "You’ve slapped him enough. Just stop now."

A tense silence filled the room. Was this the beginning of a new conflict? The other students exchanged glances. Is a new guy standing up to Ayub? Either he was fearless or just stupid.

The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do. (Steve Jobs)

Ayub didn’t just crave control—he needed it. His father’s voice echoed in his head, reminding him that weakness was unacceptable. So he ruled the classroom with the same cruelty he had grown up with.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Ayub whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “I could ruin you.”

Ali didn’t flinch. “Try me.” The teacher entered the class and everyone got back in their seats like nothing happened a while ago, It's a lucky day for you, Ayub said.

It is not our abilities that show what we truly are… it is our choices. (J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

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