That day was a defining moment for Karan. His ego rebelled for having given in to such cowardice. Those bullies were his nightmare, his fear. But wasn’t fear supposed to be faced, specifically, now that the fruit that he sold sat on his platter and contributed to his feed?
Finally, his parents had stopped asking him to go back to school. They understood their sons’ logic that said that if he headed back to school, who would look after his lands that he was gradually turning into fruit farms. He did take out some time to do small courses that helped him understand small-scale businesses better.
Life moved on though. Days bled into nights. And the “illiterate villager” multiplied his business. Gradually, he made enough to collaborate with a transport service that helped him to deliver his produce to various cities. In various corners of the city, he simultaneously set stalls to provide fresh fruit. Since the weather was crushing in its heat intensity, juices sold like hot cakes.
Juices birthed a smoothie shop that delivered fruit punches online as well. He studied whatever he felt he lagged behind in such as marketing. Other than that, his head was a factor where ideas were made every day. Gradually, he bought that transport company one day.
Fate took a crude twist here though. And Karan was set to meet the owners of the transport company that were in dire need of money. It was, on that sunny morning, Karan’s butterflies returned. Fear started to envelop him again but his ego rebelled, he looked straight into the eyes of three of those bullies who owned the transport business.
A small smirk hung on Karan’s lips. The city boys looked wretched. They were half unconscious in an alcoholic stupor and half in daze. They couldn’t believe the person who could give them money. A flitter of guilt also painted their features that they tried hard to suppress. The lunatic from a village set confident in front of them, testing their need for money. Karan offered them money from the lowest price, making the bullies almost beg him silently by persuading him to offer more money for the business.
Eventually, a deal was struck. It mostly favored Karan. The city boys weren’t in much of a position to say much. Beggars can’t be choosers, didn’t they say. Fate struck odds in an illiterate’s favor. On that day, Karan won. His soul was satisfied for having birthed such scars of a victim that was bullied so much that he quit school.