At the orphanage it was dinner time. By 7 p.m. all the children had their dinner. The boy helped in the chores before and after dinner but he was still hungry. His portion of food was packed away for a worker. The boy stood on one side watching. The worker bowed in thanks to the incharge.

At 9 p.m. the hall was empty. The children retired to their rooms for the night. He stood alone. The incharge would soon leave and another incharge would take over. The night incharge was even more heartless. His heart was bitter and throat was dry. He had to beg for food again.

He walked to her and she deliberately slowed her actions. However, she did not acknowledge him. He made subtle movements to make her look over.

Five minutes passed by and then she raised her brow. He pointed to his stomach, hopeful for her to order the gatekeeper to get him some biscuits if not a full meal. But he had to sleep away his hunger that day. She gave him a hard stare and pointed at his room.

He did not budge though, only gave her a lame stare. She jerked her hand at his room again. He did not respond, his eyes downcast. He could go on without food for one night. But that never excused him from sweeping the entire two floors early the next day. His fatigue would double up then. Would anyone give him food if he had no strength to beg?

Without looking at her he pointed to his stomach once again. All he heard were receding footsteps. Although nothing was new to him and his face remained the same, he was very dejected. This time he had to forgo a meal because he did not obey her. He had gone out of his room without anyone telling him to. His shoulders hung low and he went off into his room.

•••

He did not know how much time had passed but he saw Advay again. He picked his steps and stayed away. When he had some free time before lunch, he stayed in his room.

After lunch, he cleared the dishes. Then Advay waved at him. That was unexpected. He thought the incharge had warned him, like she would others, to not talk to him.

Advay stood up from the board game and was about to walk to him. He was alarmed and looked around for the incharge. Finding her nowhere, he was relieved. Ignoring him, he turned away and carried on with his work.

•••

On the other side Advay pursed his lips. He did not seem to want to talk to him, just like when he locked him out last week. Now that he knew the apology he made before was a lost sound, he wanted to get it across. But he did not have much hope since he did not know sign language. He looked at the paper in his hand. He had written, 'Sorry about that time. Let's be friends. What's your name?' on the paper. But if the boy did know how to read the local language, why would they not know his name? This was a gone case anyway.

He turned back to the kids and opened his notebook to take notes for his report. He asked the children for the food menu, something that only striked his mind then. Then he counted the windows and the cracks in the walls. He lost count in the middle and gave up.

He thought for a while and decided to write down the admission and adoption procedures.

"Hi." He went to the receptionist.

She tilted her phone for him to see a game in progress.

He did not want to disturb her either. That was a game he could pull his tier up for a long time. He wanted to learn from her, a definite pro. The situation seemed dire for her anyway, so it won't take that long, he thought.

Sweep kick! Side with the stronger, wasn't ever his motto, except this time somehow. But the other side only took a step back.

He silently watched from the side. Strike on the head! Instant kill! Instead she got enough time to get back a few health points. The opponent seemed to enjoy dragging things out.

Sky kick! Now! And the match ended. That was a satisfying match.

"What do you need?" She sounded upset.

"How are the admissions done?"

She opened her drawer and handed him a file.

Seeing her enter another match, he soon asked, "What about adoptions?"

She handed him another file, not willing to explain anything.

Advay took the papers and checked them. He finally had enough material to write.

•••

On Monday Lahar walked in the sun with his motorbike at a balanced pace, looking cool and casual. He parked it in front of the department and went to his cabin. He frowned at the stack on the table. It was labelled '2nd Sem.' Last week's reports lay there untouched. He had skimmed them during the class itself but he was yet to evaluate them.

He read one by one, making remarks, and stopped at Advay's. Raising his brows, he opened it. This one was to be done without anyone's help, he had said.

The report was longer than usual. In 10 whole pages, about 3 were about the toll the war had taken on the orphanage and the remaining... disappointed him. It was a philosophical argument on the humanitarian crisis caused by the war and a political monologue on how the war could have been avoided. If the language was a bit more sophisticated, it would pass as a paper. It took quite a lot of things into consideration. Someone who grew up in the Agency would not know the outside world, especially the ground realities, but they would know more about many things. But one problem was that this hotblood was unaware of his hindsight bias.

Whoever asked about all this? Sure, he said he'd accept whatever they'd write but this was taking too much advantage out of that. He sighed and wrote, 'Irrelevant' on the fourth page.

Alarm rang on his phone and he got up to greet the class. He would disappoint a few of his students again.

•••

In the class Advay held his latest report which was 8 pages of solid information, unlike the last time. Last week after hearing the incharge speak about the wartime his report had gone astray. He had not had the energy to change it so he could only bring the same for submission. He hoped his report would be pending evaluation like what happens with some every week.

He got back his report quite quietly. The professor did not say anything, that was what his fear was all about—to be laughed at in the class. But when he looked at the remark in his report, he flipped further only to see nothing in red ink. To think that 70% of his hard work was not even considered for evaluation.

However when the class ended, the professor called, "Advay, to my cabin."

"Yes, sir." Gone was his snack break.

Inside the cabin the professor sat in his seat and Advay stood close to the door.

"Close the door and sit down," the professor could see he did not want to stay there for long.

After Advay sat across his table, he spoke, "How's college?"

For a moment Advay was bewildered. He was not their class incharge nor their counsellor.

"Good?"

"Hmm. How are the other courses? Facing any difficulties?"

"Not quite. I think I'm improving."

"Great then!" The professor's smile became bright. Advay's mind flashed a certain flashback. He had just that expression when he had his friends throw him out of their team.

"Sir?"

"Choose a book." The room had so many books stacked up the racks that walls behind were barely visible.

"Should I pass on one of your books to someone?"

"Ha ha! Whoever is willing to read whatever you pick out! Just choose an interesting title."

For myself? "Sir, actually I have a pending assignment on Management Theory."

"Whoever asked that?"

"Professor, the break seems to end soon."

"Stop acting like a child. Pick one from these," the professor pointed to a shelf on his right.

Advay gave him a thin smile as he walked over to the rack. He spent some time checking which book was the thinnest. He noticed that there were books of all languages but more than half were of the native language, Paragan. There were books on various topics.

He took out a small palm sized book, half an inch thick and gave it to the professor. The title was 'Idioms in Pragdhan Language.'

The professor took one look at the book and then there was a loud thud.

Then, Advay realised that the professor knew his mother tongue. In that case, he definitely angered him. There was no lack of idioms in one's knowledge from their own homeland. The professor's small smile was still there, but his eyes showed a great calmness.

Discomforted, Advay said promptly, "I will pick out another one." He kept the small book back and took out the 'Brief History of The Countryside Journal.' It did not look brief at all and the language was Paragan.

The professor dismissed him. "Finish it by next week."

As he walked out he remembered—last time what the professor said in the cabin were words of wait. All of those books were for him to read. He almost groaned loudly in the corridor. He regretted saying that the reason for his not so good grades was lack of reading experience. There was already so much on his plate. He should have confessed that the courses were actually hectic and that unless he was in race mode, he could not catch up. When he was made a one person team without his friends, he was disrespectful and arrogant, and now he is left to compensate for his meagre touch of books. Should he give up his morning routines then, he wondered.

•••

It was Saturday again.

"Hi Advay, nice to see you again," the incharge greeted him but he was not very sure that she did feel so pleasant.

"Good to see you too, madam," He gave her a polite smile.

As they spoke, he saw the boy standing outside holding some plastic bags. The boy noticed his stare and walked into the hall without looking at them anymore.

He spent the morning on the lower floor. Rosy came to ask him to go up and teach her something new but he gave her a puppy face. The girl soon gave in and went away to her sister. This week he had sacrificed his sleep instead of the morning routine to read the book bestowed upon him. His energy was a lot less than usual and he preferred sitting idle.

In the hall though, he had to face the little devil, the funny dancer. She spoke to him non stop and drew a carrot with 'his' face.

Last few Saturdays she had drawn all the animals she knew with eyes and mouth and called them 'big big brother goat,' 'big big brother buffalo,' 'big big brother pig' and many more such. Now her little brain exhausted all animals so she started making 'big big brother vegetables.'

Advay gave her a bright smile and requested her to make a drawing of 'big big brother onion' and she took it up like a mission. After she sprinted away, Advay sat with the quieter bunch who played chess and other board games.

Around lunch he saw the boy come out of his room. He wondered from where the boy came and what language he understood. He took out the piece of paper he'd written for him last time. He thought about using a different language but he had no clue which one to try.

He made a picture of a stick man with a round face. It was holding its ears with its hands. He appreciated himself for doing a better job than the funny dancer. That should be enough. He left the words unchanged.

He grabbed a plate and stood in the line for lunch. He soon had his plate served full and he stood near the counter and started his meal. When he saw the boy come to refill the rice, he went for another serving.

As soon as the boy finished the work, Advay extended his hand. The boy looked at him for a moment and then turned back. Not again!

Occupied with the meal, Advay put the slip back and continued eating with a foul mood. For once, he managed to ward off the funny dancer successfully that day.

After lunch, gaining some energy, he went to the upper floor. Before he sat down, the boy strided to him and extended his hand.

Bewildered at first, he quickly took out the small paper from his pocket and handed it over to the boy and awaited a reply. Then, he'd know what language the boy knows. But the boy took a look at it and gave a small smile after a while.

He waited for him to speak but eventually returned the smile, awkwardly, and the boy left.

After two hours it was time for him to leave. He walked to the gate and unchained his bicycle. He heard a noise from behind. When he turned around, he found the boy standing on the balcony. Advay smiled and was about to wave. But before that, the boy raised his hand and slowly put it down.

They were not very far away. There was just 5 metres of distance between them. The boy's face was serious, he could see clearly. Did he ask him not to wave? Advay mimicked him and slowly put his hand down. He smiled and the boy's face was relaxed and he smiled at him.

Alright then, he won't wave at the boy from then on. Giving him another smile, he left.

•••