Nobody told Vicky that he should not do that. He should not try which mimics fascination. Even if someone lectured, Bruce wouldn’t listen. He was deaf.

Deafness didn’t come due to a handicap; he merely believed that it worked for him. I mean, his fascination. His belief. Hence, he was deaf.

Vikrant or Vicky was medium built, and sun burnt by the tropical Mangalore weather. His puffy face sprinkled with late teenage pimples and a pencil mustache (which he thought was a fungus) with shaggy hair, sometimes resembling the frosted blade crop hairdo, people thought he was not from this world.

Vicky was a confusion incarnate. As a long-term solution, he developed a great interest in meditation. While cluttering his mind with thoughts was tough, de-cluttering the clog, from the universal gossip seems tougher.

When he found meditating difficult at home, he would go to the park at Valencia to meditate. The park was busy with morning joggers and walkers alike. Fine spray of water made the grass gleam in the morning sun, which birds found what they pecked for joy.

Vicky did his own meditation. Once he heard a voice of someone walking close to him, and he opened his eyes to see a purty chick wearing tight leggings and a checkered tee with a bandana, walking her dog that he gave up his meditation and was watching the lining of her panties. The girl seemed to have noticed it and muttered something in frustration.

That did not go well with Vicky, and he thought about something of cursing the girl, and moved (or shook) his head to the right, as if to say ‘Get-Out-of-here’. The girl wasn’t watching, but, he believed that the spell or curse, would have an immediate impact on the poor girl.

At the same time, it rained, and she started running for shelter. There was none. She lost control of the leash, and the dog ran away.  Vicky’s curse worked.

Once, Vicky’s uncle visited their house. It was the festival season of Navami, and he had brought some sweets after the Pooja. Vicky didn’t like him. He would often compare his son with Vicky and would embarrass him in front of his dad. Vicky’s dad knew that his son was adamant for a change, so, he too would jest at Vicky.

The uncle had a peculiar way of drinking tea. He was an old man, and would sip the tea making weird noises. Vicky would find that uncultured and funny. While his mom served tea, Vicky was asked to serve the biscuits. He was still joking about Vicky and sipping tea. Uncle took a big bite of the biscuit (dipped in tea), when Vicky decided to cast a spell. He moved his head to the right. The now softened biscuit fell on the uncle’s plain white kurta, leaving tea stains.

When the fall came, and when the weather seemed to be slowly becoming crispier, Vicky thought he could try his head shaking skills on somebody. He believed that he was gifted, and why not? he had the right to punish the extravagant.

He drew his bike to the bus stand, which is always crowded from 8 am till 10 am, where office goers, college and school kids, vendors; talked and waited for their respective buses, where smoke or fart, barely made a difference to the wind.

As he neared the bus stand, he saw the same girl whom he had met at the park. One glance, and the girl recognized the villain. She started to murmur something to her friend that both started to giggle.

Vicky knew by instinct that this was his chance, and he made that elegant move of his head, only to be noticed by an elderly man, who believed that Vicky was a rogue who seemed to coax girls into the unwanted business.

‘This gentleman seems to call her for a hitchhike,’ the old man wailed, pointing at Vicky.

Vicky was dumbstruck.

‘The girl is after all a student,’ someone said.

‘How dare you?’ a tall man said, giving him a push.

‘But, I was only trying to cast…,’ Vicky timidly proclaimed and stopped mid-way.

The people burst into laughter.

‘We know that, and we saw that too. Someone call the police. Let’s see if his spell works on the cops.’

While Vicky was being guided into a police jeep, he saw the old man unlocking his bike. Probably, trying to steal it.

Vicky moved his head to the right, for one final time.

The bike and the old man fell. Everyone looked at the fallen man. Realizing his ploy was out, the old man pleaded mercy, but, was dragged to the police jeep along with the bike.

Vicky had won.