Our Story Needs No Filter Read online

  SUDEEP NAGARKAR

  our story needs no filter

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Acknowledgements

  Follow Penguin

  Copyright

  PENGUIN METRO READS

  OUR STORY NEEDS NO FILTER

  Sudeep Nagarkar has authored eight bestselling novels—Few Things Left Unsaid, That’s the Way We Met, It Started with a Friend Request, Sorry, You’re Not My Type, You’re the Password to My Life, You’re Trending in My Dreams, She Swiped Right into My Heart and All Rights Reserved for You—and is the recipient of the Youth Achievers Award. He has been featured on the Forbes India longlist of the most influential celebrities for three consecutive years. He has given guest lectures in renowned institutes such as IITs and organizations like TEDx. His books have been translated into various languages, including Hindi, Marathi and Telugu.

  Connect with Sudeep via his:

  Facebook fan page: /sudeepnagarkar

  Facebook profile: /nagarkarsudeep

  Twitter: sudeep_nagarkar

  Instagram: sudeepnagarkar

  Snapchat: nagarkarsudeep

  Website: www.sudeepnagarkar.in

  By the Same Author

  All Rights Reserved for You

  She Swiped Right into My Heart

  You’re Trending in My Dreams

  You’re the Password to My Life

  Sorry, You’re Not My Type

  It Started with a Friend Request

  That’s the Way We Met

  Few Things Left Unsaid

  Prologue

  Dear friend,

  These days I have come to question the aim of religion. It feels like a fruitless pursuit, wherein we turn away from logic and reason. We constantly look outward for inspiration, when interestingly enough the answers lie within. I have been a witness to the adverse effect religion seems to have on human welfare and this is why I have come to question its presence in our lives. It’s merely an illusion where we blindly follow the ideologies our communities have laid down for us.

  He called it Kraanti—a fight for our existence and a fight for acceptance. This, I feel, is a misinterpretation that will not only lead vulnerable minds like mine astray, but will also lead to destruction. What is even more worrying is that he is a puppet himself, dancing to the tunes of those who are powerful.

  The movement revealed the hypocrisy of those in power. They only saw one thing when they looked at a student—a vote. I joined MGU with the hope of learning and meeting new people and initially I did make a few friends, but my loved ones were pushed away as I surrendered to the wrong ideologies. I know you had high hopes for me, but despite that I lost your faith and your friendship. All I can say is that I was caught up in the moment. They say love makes you strong but he knew it was also my weakness, and he used it against me. Until reality hit, I did not even realize that the words I spoke to the crowd were not my own. I uttered them not out of conviction, but of fear of repercussion.

  But this explanation may be unnecessary. When you need to explain yourself to the ones you love, I think it’s time to move on. But somewhere, something holds me to you all. I remember you warning me, ‘They are storytellers. The words they spin will change you, change your outlook,’ but I never paid heed to it. Maybe I was wrong all this time, to think I understood the emotions of life. Looking back, I now see myself falling into a void. I feel pathetic.

  Your friend, forever.

  One

  30 April 2016

  ‘The Hindu society must be one of the most brutal societies in the world,’ a professor said to her students. ‘It is deep-rooted in violence.’

  ‘Isn’t Hinduism all about peace?’ a student challenged. ‘To suppress the devil inside and become righteous? It was never about violence. You, as a professor of MGU, should pass on the correct information rather than fabricating stories.’

  It was at that moment when Krishna, the leader of the All India Student Council (AISC), one of the student political parties of the Mahatma Gandhi University (MGU), Delhi, overheard the discussion while passing by. Hearing the student intervene, he entered the classroom. Krishna was simply dressed: a casual shirt, jeans and chappals. The debate was happening after regular working hours in the college—nothing out of the ordinary for the students of the AISC.

  ‘Salaam, everyone,’ Krishna greeted everyone. Then turning to the student, he said, ‘We are not against any religion but those Hindu organizations that force their views on innocent minorities and the lower castes are not to be tolerated. I am from a backward family and I know what it feels like to be one. They want Hindu Raj to prevail in India by barring the reserved castes from entering politics. If the minorities pick up weapons they are called Naxalites, but if someone else does it, it becomes nationalism.’

  The student who had raised the objection fell silent.

  Krishna went on. ‘Today, nationalism is nothing but bad-mouthing our neighbours. Only Brahmins are allowed to speak freely; Dr Ambedkar is remembered only as a Dalit and not as a scholar. We don’t need a certificate of patriotism from the Akhil Bhartiya Chatra Parishad. These fascist forces want everyone to blindly follow their ideologies and do not entertain differing opinions. They are denying our right to speak out against caste discrimination.’

  Encouraged by a wave of applause, Krishna continued, ‘Despite this wave of intolerance, we have to have full faith in the Constitution of India. If someone tries to challenge it, we will retaliate. We must debate the concept of violence with them. The caste system is one of the biggest problems in this country, and this culture of exploitation, along with that of Brahminism, should be destroyed. We must educate people about the caste system and bring reservation into every sector including the private. We stand for equal rights. We stand for the right to live.’

  Taken over by a wave of passion, Krishna concluded the session along with the professor. Once everyone had left, he went up to the student who had objected to the criticism of Hinduism. The student had come to the session on Krishna’s advice. He had been the victim of discrimination merely hours ago, and Krishna had informed him of an organization that worked to preserve the right of the lower castes. The student was still a little hesitant and Krishna knew he had to proceed cautiously.

  ‘See, our organization is for the youth of our community. Youth like you who have suffered. The motive of our movement is to spread the correct virtues of humanity and to help people educate themselves about basic human rights. We have a core section in the AISC wherein the more dedicated students are given important tasks to execute. Teachers come from different universities to guide us in the right direction. Would you like to join that team and spread our cause?’

  The student nodded, slightly confused but totally hypnotized by Krishna’s words. Krishna took that as a yes and welcomed him into their group with a handshake. The overwhelmed student, mollified by the handshake, still felt that there was something about Krishna which he couldn’t quite figure out.

  ‘I want to give you a task. I have full faith in you and your courage. On the completion of this task, there is scope for promotion. More recognition, more responsibilities,’ Krishna said.

  ‘What�
�s it all about?’ asked the student.

  ‘You have to deliver some parcels to Ambala. It’s a bit far, but don’t worry, everything will be taken care of. Ever been to Ambala?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Our organization offers help to those who do not have access to basic rights like education through these parcels. We have mediators to make sure these parcels reach them safely.’

  ‘These parcels . . . ?’

  ‘They contain books and other stationery. You need to deliver them to Ambala. Once you do it, you will have made your first contribution towards our movement, Kraanti.’

  Sensing his apprehension, Krishna encouraged his new compatriot, ‘I trust you. It’s not a big deal and you can do it. You don’t want the students of your community to suffer, right?’

  ‘When do I have to leave?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  The next morning, the student was briefed about his task. A car awaited him along with his personal escort and he was given five thousand rupees for his expenses.

  Throughout the journey, his past flashed before him. It had been tough but Krishna had eventually made him realize his purpose. He didn’t want others to be tormented just because they were Dalits or were deemed unworthy by the Indian religious elite. Krishna and his movement, Kraanti, claimed to fight for their rights. It was his job to execute the first step towards their betterment.

  On his arrival, there was someone to receive him and to verify his identity. He was taken to a room in an old building and was told to wait for further instructions. The locality looked old and congested, but despite his creeping suspicions, he waited calmly within the cracked walls of the room.

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. He went to open it, but by the time he reached, the passageway stood empty. He spotted an envelope lying on the floor. There was a message inside—a delivery address and a time. Strange, he thought. Why couldn’t someone tell him this in person? Pushing aside his doubts, he decided to carry on with his mission. He trusted Krishna. Getting into the car, he looked at the address again. There was not much time left, so he quickly fed the given location into Google Maps and asked the driver to follow his directions. As the car crawled into narrow lanes, he became a little nervous, until the hoarding mentioned in the envelope showed up. It was similar to the old building he had been put in. Walking up to the door, he knocked carefully.

  ‘Just leave it outside. I am a little busy and can’t open the door right now,’ said a voice from inside.

  Conflicted, he asked, ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. Krishna told me about you.’

  For a moment there was absolute silence. He tried calling Krishna but could not get through to his number. He hesitated for a moment before leaving the heavy boxes outside the door and departing.

  On the way back, he received a message from Krishna.

  ‘Good job. My man said he received the boxes in perfect condition. You are now officially a part of Kraanti.’

  Two

  23 December 2015

  ‘What are you reading? You seem completely absorbed,’ Jai said as he sat down beside Raghu. ‘Have you realized you missed your class? The psychology lecture is over.’

  ‘It’s a book by John Grisham—very interesting, especially the protagonist who is such a complex character. One minute you like him, and the other minute you hate him! And he’s so vulnerable. He’ll believe anything he’s told,’ Raghu replied, turning a page, still engrossed.

  ‘I get it. Basically he’s you.’ Jai laughed.

  Raghu looked up. He was not amused. ‘I mean . . .’ Jai attempted an explanation. ‘Don’t you behave in a similar way? Your emotions allow people to convince you about anything in minutes. Isn’t that a bad thing?’

  ‘Of course it isn’t.’

  The boys were interrupted by Megha, the third person in their friend circle.

  ‘Hey! Reading Grisham? Have you reached the part where—’ Megha had a knack for giving out spoilers, which irked Raghu to no end.

  ‘Don’t say another word!’ Raghu cut her short, putting a finger to his lips.

  ‘Fine, I’m not saying another word. But I just love his character descriptions and how well drawn out even the minor characters are; they stay with you long after the book is over! I can’t even write a Facebook post without breaking into a sweat,’ she joked.

  ‘And yet you keep writing those long posts,’ Jai teased her.

  ‘I love posting my views, no matter what the topic.’

  ‘Politics is waiting for people like you.’

  ‘No way,’ said Megha, shaking her head.

  Raghu, still stuck in the previous discussion, said, ‘See . . . now do you get it? Grisham makes you feel for the characters; even Megha agrees.’

  ‘I got it the moment you described him. All I’m saying is some day, someone will convince you of something, just like they did the main character. Ask Megha, she’ll tell you I’m right.’

  ‘Who? Raghu? Anyone can take him for a ride!’

  The three close friends continued their animated discussion, sitting inside the campus café. It was a popular hang-out among the students, located right next to the entry gates. A couple of dogs were barking furiously outside.

  ‘Did you hear our prime minister’s speech yesterday?’ asked Megha.

  ‘Yeah,’ the boys replied in chorus. Both knew what was coming next.

  ‘I loved the colour of his Nehru jacket. How does he carry such vibrant colours so well at his age?’

  ‘Mitroooon,’ Raghu said in a mocking tone.

  ‘No jokes about him please,’ Jai protested.

  ‘Are you a bhakt?’

  ‘If respecting our prime minister makes me a bhakt, then I guess I am,’ Jai said, sounding a little annoyed.

  ‘You guys are impossible. Always ready to get into a debate,’ interjected Megha.

  ‘That’s how we express our friendship.’ Jai smiled.

  ‘Argh, these dogs barking collectively is getting on my nerves,’ Raghu said, shifting his eyes from Jai to the dogs. They were sitting close to the café’s exit and had a good view of the street.

  Raghu noticed a man buying a packet of biscuits to feed the dogs. Nearby, there was a small girl, around eight or nine years of age, carrying a baby on one arm while trying to collect scraps of discarded food with her other hand. Clearly hungry, she picked up bits of bread, tomatoes and half-eaten burgers from the roadside. Raghu felt a war of emotions raging within: respect for the man feeding the stray dogs, at the same time a rising anger at his nonchalant attitude towards the young girl who evidently had little to eat. How could people not know how best to use their money? The more he looked, the angrier he got. Looking for a vent for his emotions, he looked around for a stone to throw at the dogs. Raghu disliked animals, especially dogs, but the inequality pricked him more.

  The moment he threw the stone, he felt a pat on his shoulder. He turned around to see Ruhi looking at him fiercely. ‘You are so cruel; just because animals cannot speak, it doesn’t mean you can torment them in such a way. That’s wrong.’

  ‘Look at that hungry girl. She quietly starves while the man next to her spends his money to feed stray dogs. That’s wrong too.’

  ‘You said you loved animals, especially dogs.’ Raghu had lied to her about his dislike for dogs since he knew she loved them.

  ‘I know, Ruhi, but I love humans more.’

  ‘Whatever. You are sick. If you care so much about that girl, why don’t you go and feed her instead of just blaming others? Don’t complain about the actions of others if you do nothing yourself,’ Ruhi shot back and turned to leave.

  A few days ago

  ‘If your dog’s tail is wagging, is it just he who is happy to see me or are you both?’ Raghu asked as he walked over to Ruhi, who was playing with a cute puppy.

  ‘He’s not a dog. He is my baby.’ She smiled, taking the dog in her lap.

  Raghu seemed unconvinced, but carried on casually, ‘Y
es, of course.’

  Ruhi had only recently started spending time with their group. She was close to Megha but didn’t know the others too well. Raghu, who had taken a liking to her, didn’t want to risk anything that might ruin his chances of getting close to her.

  So he lied. ‘They are so captivating. They can lift my mood in a second,’ he said smoothly.

  ‘Same here, puppies are the best way to relieve your stress.’ Ruhi looked up and smiled at Raghu.

  ‘Do you watch movies?’ Raghu asked abruptly. Sensing Ruhi’s confusion, he went on, ‘I am sure you have seen all those movies where things are escalating between the good guy and the bad guy and then the good guy’s dog starts barking because he senses that his owner is in some sort of trouble. And then suddenly he breaks free and saves him.’

  Seeing her scepticism, Raghu continued to ramble, ‘No, really, I even hate the people who are cruel to animals.’

  He tried to prove his affection by stroking the puppy’s head.

  ‘You know, last year we marched the streets to protest against harassment of street dogs. If I had known you then, I would have invited you along,’ Ruhi said.

  ‘We . . . ?’

  ‘I am a part of PETA—People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals,’ Ruhi responded with pride.

  ‘Oh, I see. I assume then that you are a vegetarian as well.’ Raghu felt a burp bubbling up. The butter chicken that he had had for lunch was not sitting well in his stomach.

  ‘I am a Brahmin, but even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have enjoyed eating animals.’

  Raghu let out a small burp.

  ‘Do something! Stop her,’ Raghu pleaded desperately to Megha.

  ‘Ruhi . . . wait!’ Megha screamed, running after her.

  If anyone could appease Ruhi, it was Megha. She knew that Raghu liked Ruhi, and while she was aware that they had nothing in common, his efforts spurred her into action.