Chapter 6: One Against the Mob

8

In the office, the principal said earnestly:

'Isn’t it just an apology? If you did something wrong, you should have the guts to admit it. Besides, cursing people out is never a good thing.'

I replied coldly: 'I did curse, but I had my reasons. I wasn’t the one who started it. And after suffering this kind of mass cyberbullying, shouldn’t Priya and Kunal apologise to me first?'

The principal sighed, helpless:

'Even if you did nothing wrong, the other side is a celebrity with tens of millions of fans. As the saying goes, aam aadmi can’t fight the powerful. Even if you had ten mouths, you couldn’t explain it. You might as well swallow your pride and end this for your own peace.'

His chai cup left a ring on the desk, as if to underline how little my words mattered.

I sneered: 'So you mean, if she uses public opinion and power to crush me, I just have to give in?'

The principal shrugged: 'There’s nothing you can do. You’re powerless. No one will listen to your side.'

I rolled my eyes: 'I’ll make Priya beg to clarify for me.'

The principal clearly didn’t believe me.

He rubbed his brow, looking pained: 'The forum rumours are affecting the college too much. I’ll tell the admin to shut it down for a week. Settle this within a week, or the college will step in.'

I looked up: 'How?'

The principal said helplessly: 'Like making you write a self-criticism, then reporting it college-wide and posting it to the forum.'

I pressed my lips together.

If I had to write a self-criticism and be reported college-wide, even if it wasn’t my fault, I’d still have to take the blame.

No way I was swallowing that.

So I said coldly: 'If this gets cleared up, I want the college to make Kunal apologise to me.'

The principal nodded: 'If it turns out you’re the victim, Kunal does deserve to be criticised.'

With the principal’s promise, I stopped talking and left the office.

Then I took out my phone and called Secretary Rao.

'Secretary Rao, get me contact info for an actress named Priya. I need to talk to her.'

Secretary Rao sounded puzzled:

'She’s just a minor actress. There’s no need for you to contact her personally. Just tell her agent.'

I gritted my teeth and sneered: 'Oh, it’s very necessary.'

A faint echo of the principal’s tired sigh lingered in my mind as I walked past the framed photo of the college’s founder. Somewhere in the corridor, someone’s phone rang with a Bollywood hit, oblivious to the storm swirling around me.