Posted: 05 September 2005 at 10:12pm | IP Logged
Notes: This is supposed to start around the time that Kirti, Mona
and Rex get their second chance in Gurukul. It's from Qazi's point of
view, basically describing what he feels after they've come.
Qazi and the Prisoner of Fame Gurukul
(Title is Sonynyu's idea!
He didn't want to look at Kirti, Mona and Rex.
Everytime he did, a foreboding sense of guilt flooded him. He'd watched
them go, all of them, each time the guilt swelling up even more. They
went because of him. They all deserved to stay, but they went. Because
of him. He didn't want to look at them and see their masked
disappointment. They were all blaming him, some way or the other, for
their leaving. They left because the public voted him in. They left
even though they didn't deserve to. And he was the reason for that.
Qazi knew it. He knew that, even though each of them tried to be civil
with him, they hated him. It must have been sometime after his third
saving, he thought. That was when he started to sense their coolness
towards him. The students, all of them, thought he didn't deserve to be
where he was. The faculty, though trying to be civil, didn't quite hide
their disappointment everytime he was saved. They blamed him too.
Everyone did. He was Qazi, the Boy-Who-Couldn't-Sing. He was Qazi, the
He'd struggled through each and
every day at the Gurukul. He tried to laugh, maybe that would ease the
pain. Maybe if he pretended that nothing mattered to him, he'd convince
himself that nothing did. He wasn't fooling himself, though – it
mattered. It mattered a whole bloody lot. He tried to be nonchalant
about it – maybe no one would see. But he knew. He knew how much it
hurt, when someone made a comment, direct or indirect, that suggested
he couldn't sing. Which he couldn't, come to think of it. Why was he
here? He wanted to be an actor, didn't he? Everyone told him that.
Everyone told him he had to be one, told him he was good enough to be
one. They wanted to hint that he should have been in some acting show,
not singing. He shouldn't have been in this darned show ruining
everyone else's chances.
But they had no idea. They had no
idea how hard he worked, trying to improve his singing. They weren't
allowed out of their rooms at night, so he would sneak into the
bathroom to practice, not wanting to wake up the others. He'd stay
there for an hour, maybe two, trying to get it right. But he never did.
He never could. He'd still end up in the Danger Zone, no matter what.
The rest were too bloody good for him. He wasn't good enough. And then
he would push himself once more, the next week, practicing till the wee
hours of the morning. Then he would end up in the Danger Zone. It was a
never ending cycle, he couldn't free himself of it. One day the public
wouldn't vote for him – and he'd be out. He could see it now, the
masked smirks of the Gurukul students as Qazi packed his bags. They'd
pretend to cry, to pat him, to wish him all the luck in future. But
they'd all be glad to get rid of him. Each and everyone wanted to see
him go. He didn't deserve to be among them, they'd made that much
Against his better judgment, he
snuck a look at Kirti. He was smiling and chatting animatedly with Mona
and Rex. Almost as if sensing someone looking at him, Kirti glanced
around and spotted Qazi. He gave him a weak smile, which Qazi returned,
a bit hesitantly. Of course, Kirti was blaming Qazi too. They all were.
He could understand where they were coming from, but anyway, if he
wasn't at Gurukul he would be replaced by only one person, wouldn't he?
He wouldn't have been able to save the six or so others who left.
They'd leave anyhow. But of course, they didn't understand that. And
Qazi didn't expect them to, either. Their "fears" were well-placed; he
understood them completely. But yet, yet he sometimes wished that they
could see him in a different light. They were all polite, but there was
a difference. It was very clear, they didn't like him, they didn't want
him, and he should leave. He should leave. It all came down to that in
the end. Why can't I sing?
He thought for one desperate moment. He was working harder than anyone, and he truly, truly
loved and respected singing, no matter what anyone else thought. But
yet he couldn't reach them. Scratch that, he couldn't reach them with a
. He was always lagging behind, panting heavily
to keep up, as the rest sped away and out of sight, leaving him behind.
He was always behind. And then, suddenly, he wasn't quite sure how
though – he remembered something. He remembered his mother's radiant
face leaning over his bed to tell him a story. What was the story? The
tortoise and the hare. Something about a race between the tortoise and
the hare. Yes, that was it, that was what she always told him. That
story was a classic, he'd grown up hearing it numerous times, but it
was always one of those proverb-ish things that were made up of complex
words and served no more purpose than to complicate matters even
further. He hadn't really considered it. But now, now – he wasn't quite
sure. The story seemed oddly personal all of a sudden. And then he
realized – he'd been living as the tortoise for nine weeks. He was the
tortoise, the rest of them were the hares sprinting out of sight. And
there was the moral of the story… slow and steady wins the race. Qazi
smiled, one of the few very real smiles he'd had since he entered
Gurukul. It would all be okay. Slow and steady wins the race. He looked
over at Kirti, Mona and Rex confidently this time, and got up. He
wasn't the one to blame, and he had no reason to feel guilty. He was
Qazi, the Boy-Who-Believed-In-Himself. He was Qazi, the
Boy-Who-Worked-Harder-Than-The-Rest. He was Qazi, and he was going to
be the Boy-Who-Became-Part-Of-The-Fame-Jodi.
Notes: Uh... right. There it is. The beginning sounds abrupt,
and so does everything else. I'm not sure why. I didn't actually set
out to write the fanfiction, these lines were just swarming around in
my head and I decided to put it down. Before I knew it, I was
continuing. Many things about it seem out-of-character, actually,
Qazi's not British so he wouldn't be using the word "bloody" even if
it's only in his thoughts, but that word has become part of my natural
vocabulary and I blame it all on Harry Potter
Lol. Speaking of which, the "Boy-Who-Blah-Blah-Blah" is actually
inspired from Harry Potter (the Boy-Who-Lived). I know, I can see you
rolling your eyes already. Don't worry, I've endured a lot of it. I
also don't like the ending so much about the hare and tortoise thing...
I'm not quite sure where that came from. But when a little plot bunny
bites me, it chews on me until I give in and put it down. So there.
Again, I'm not really that good a writer so it's not that good - but
anyway. Hopefully some Qazi fans might like it. And yes - do leave me a
line, about what you liked or didn't like. And be honest. I can take
the criticism. Really. Lol.
Edited by *Rashmi* - 11 September 2005 at 6:56pm