Chapter 4: The Accusation
Three days after the rescue, Arjun woke and accused me on national TV of trying to murder him.
In scandal-obsessed India, the uproar was instant—news tickers, WhatsApp forwards, relatives calling: “Beta, kya ho raha hai?”
Reporters elbowed past nurses, their mics poking like umbrellas in the monsoon. Arjun, pale-faced, spun a story for the cameras: I’d tried to keep my record safe by trapping him, crushing his arm, and knocking him out. He wanted justice—and jail.
His mother wept for the cameras; their lawyer hovered, smug. The media lapped up every word. I was still in the hospital when a reporter mob rushed in, microphones in my face: “Mr. Singh, did you really risk someone’s life for fame?”
Amma’s face in the crowd—eyes pleading, hands folded. I forced myself to answer: “If you can find another diver, you’ll see the rock was chipped away by hand. Arjun was uncooperative. Knocking him out was a last resort—I reported everything.”
Mr. Agarwal stormed in, finger jabbing: “Pagal ho gaye ho? Mere bete ko haath lagaya toh socho, kya anjaam hoga!” His bodyguards glared. I saw Kunal, my teammate, look away in guilt.
Kunal mumbled, fiddling with his phone: “Bhaiya Rohan, if I hadn’t stopped you, you might’ve killed him. My sister’s shaadi is coming up—I can’t fight them.”
In that moment, I realised Arjun had set me up, dragging even my friends into the fire. Betrayed by money and fear, I stood alone.
What could I say? My voice was a whisper: “My conscience is clear. I’ll accept any investigation.”
Mr. Agarwal’s verdict was final: “I’ll make sure your licence is revoked. You’ll never dive again.”
The police took me away. The corridor was thick with stares—nurses, chaiwala, neighbours. The interviews caused a sensation online. My old school WhatsApp group booted me. Neighbour aunties wouldn’t meet my eyes in the lift. Izzat gone.
Rumours grew—past rescues twisted into accusations. Even my own coach could only sigh: “Beta, this is bigger than you or me. Arjun can’t bear the shame, so he needs you to take the fall.”
The police interrogated me, but truth didn’t matter—only the story people wanted to hear.