Will and Power

“Charlie is looking for someone to write songs. Would you like to join the team?” Sarang said one breezy September evening. The previous weekends, I lay motionless on a sheetless bed as grey clouds invaded my mind, and the weight of agony weighed me down. Every weekend, I tried outwitting the Black Dog; he found me and left me defeated in Syracuse, New York. While swaying to a new tune on Spotify, I would emulate a Sloth. Envisioning an easy escape, I replied, “Yes! I would love to. That would be wonderful.” With glittering eyes and hope oozing out of my heart, I returned to the redbrick dormitory.

Accompanied by a thumping heart and sweaty palms, I opened Sarang’s email. In his eyes, my poem Unreal was “brilliant,” and his favorite line from the song Invincible was “give me a chance to make the stars dance.” On the 27th of September, 2019, we decided to deliberate at a quaint café. As I slipped into bright white Tretorn sneakers, my phone pinged. Squirming at the words, “I will come to your room to pick you up,” I responded with “No need. I will meet you outside.” As I wore a purple paisley shirt over a sunshine yellow camisole and denim shorts, a strange sentiment signaled something unscrupulous. With a Tiger’s conduct, I hopped into Sarang’s olive jeep, hoping to bid the Black Dog adieu through this validating opportunity. During the ride, Sarang expressed how the scorching temperature in India was “crazy” as I let out a hesitant laugh. “Do people ride elephants on the streets of India?” he asked, and I chose calmness over crabbiness.

At the café, the thought “did he mix something in my drink?” engulfed my mind as the green tea contained in a teal mug made me drowsy. Revelations like “I have received multiple awards by the Canadian government for poetry” and “We bullied this boy” left me with a clenched fist and sinking heart. A vibrant mural captivated me on our way back to campus, and I began photographing it with a toothy smile. Sarang, clad in a flannel shirt and baseball cap, quipped, “So you are one of those people. I knew it!” Regretful and reluctant, I continued walking down the cobbled sidewalk. With animated eyes, I enlightened him with insights on compassion from a Wharton newsletter. Discomforted by the nervous laughter and unmoved expression, my lips turned upside down.

Out of the blue, Sarang handed me his phone. With furrowed eyebrows and an open mouth, I looked in his direction. “You can see constellations through this application,” he said. I find wonder in a blazing sunset, a bite of fragrant vanilla sponge cake, a whiff of creamy chocolate, unique glassware, soothing instrumentals, and frothy seas. “Umm, sure, why not?” I said, grasping his phone and anticipating a magical ending to an agitating evening. Sarang stood there with his eyes fixated on me. “Uhh, I cannot see anything,” I said as I gestured for him to grab the phone. “Try again. I am sure you will be able to see it. It is fascinating,” he said.

As I looked for sparkling stars in the night sky, Sarang pounced on me and kissed me. With hands as cold as ice and glassy eyes, I opened my mouth, but the words stayed stuck. Adding fuel to the fire, he callously told me to “forget what happened” and asked if we could “at least be friends” without an iota of shame. With quivering lips and a volatile body, I called a friend to seek solace as I felt darkness blanket me. That night, I walked into a dark den to escape the Black Dog but crossed paths with a black panther instead.