UNIVERSITY ARC
I am Manoj, twenty years old.
If life had been fair, I wouldn't have made it here. But I did. Through talent, determination, and sheer stubbornness, I earned my place at Oakridge Noble University—a place where the privileged thrive, and people like me barely survive.
I still remember the first time I heard the name Oakridge. Not from a counselor, not from a teacher—just a flashy advertisement on TV, promising a future brighter than gold.
They weren't lying.
With specialized campuses in technology, medicine, law, arts, and performing arts, Oakridge is more than a university. It's a brand. Every month, top-tier organizations handpick students, turning them into the next generation of leaders.
But for people like me, getting here wasn't easy. A scholarship was my only way in.
Oakridge's scholarship program isn't charity. It's a contract. A deal. The university funds your education, but once you secure a job, you pay it back—no interest, but no excuses. And if you fail to land a job? That's on you.
That's why the entrance exam is brutal. Only the best make it through.
I did.
For a moment, I thought I had finally won. But what I didn't expect was the war inside the university.
Here, money speaks louder than talent. Wealthy students walk like they own the place, while scholarship students like me? We're just… there. We exist, but we don't belong.
Some of them see us as competition. Others see us as nothing.
A few, however, don't see us differently at all.
And maybe, just maybe—that's the only reason I've managed to survive.
But I knew one thing for sure—I couldn't stay invisible forever. If I wanted to stand out, to make a place for myself, I had to do something big.
That's why I poured everything I had into my project—a technological innovation aimed at conserving resources. It represents months of hard work and is deeply important to me.
Finally, the day arrives to present my project to the visiting recruiters. Those who impress them will have the chance to join one of the largest multinational companies.
This morning, I woke up early, excitement and nerves buzzing through me.
…..
My friends gathered around, offering their well-wishes.
"Best of luck, Manoj! If you get this job, I can tell everyone I helped you financially and impress more girls. Isn't that awesome? Hehe."
Did he mean that, or was he joking? I wanted to scold him for his ridiculous thoughts, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. So I smiled and replied softly.
"Yeah, Ramu. I think you've already mastered that trick, haven't you?"
Ramu was a good guy, but his habit of trying to charm girls always amused me. Still, I never understood how they kept falling for it.
Suresh chimed in next.
"Manoj, if you succeed, I'll treat you to some amazing food you've never had before. I swear on my food."
That's Suresh for you. He had a kind heart—but swearing on food? I doubted he'd last more than five minutes without eating.
"So sweet of you, Suresh. I'm looking forward to that treat."
Finally, Keshava stepped forward and hugged me tightly.
"Manoj, remember when we all first met? That was one of the best moments of my life. You know, I have so many memories, just because of you guys. You are more than friends to me. I believe you more than me. And remember, whatever happens, we will always be on your side. Now go, show them who really are."
His words struck a chord. Oh, Keshava… you'll miss me, won't you? I'll never forget what you did for me. Without your help and support, I wouldn't have made it this far.
I reassured them with a smile.
"I won't forget you guys. But now, it's time for the seminar—I have to go."
Before heading in, I handed my phone to Keshava since electronic devices weren't allowed.
But when everything changed in an instant, that interview became one of the worst nightmares of my life—something I would never forget.
– – – –
After security escorted me out, I sat on a bench outside, devastated, replaying the mistake over and over in my mind.
Then it hit me. This project meant everything to me. If it fell into the wrong hands, the consequences could be dangerous. If they realized its true potential… no, that wouldn't be good. It could be risky for them—and even more so for me. No! I just hoped that wouldn't happen.
As I walked toward the gate, I suddenly heard a voice nearby—one I recognized. I moved closer to see who it was.
And then, I froze.
Rahul—my classmate. What was he doing here? Was he part of this too?
Wait… he was handing money to someone.
I narrowed my eyes. My heart pounded.
It was one of the officers from the seminar—the same place where I had presented my report!
They were talking, but I couldn't hear much. I held my breath and crept closer, hiding nearby, trying to catch their conversation.
"Sir, as promised, here's the money."
Rahul said it with a smug smile, handing over a thick envelope. The officer took it eagerly, his fingers gripping the cash as if it were treasure. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The officer said, his voice filled with admiration.
"Young man, I must say. The report I had replaced with yours, was one of the best I've ever seen. His idea is unique—even our senior official was impressed. If he had presented it as it was, he would've definitely gotten the job. But he doesn't even realize you tampered with it."
My breath caught in my throat.
What?
Rahul did this? He was the reason everything went wrong?
Rage boiled inside me. My fists clenched involuntarily. That bastard! I needed to expose him, to tell everyone the truth. Wait—what if I record this?
I reached into my pockets, frantically searching for my phone. My fingers brushed against nothing but fabric.
Damn it! My phone—I had given it to Keshava before the seminar. The worst timing ever!
I looked up, and Rahul's expression had changed. His smirk was gone. His eyes turned cold and piercing as he stared directly at the officer.
"That's none of your business. You got your money—now leave."
His voice was firm and threatening. The officer hesitated, his excitement quickly fading. He glanced around nervously before stuffing the envelope into his pocket and walking away without another word.
I stood frozen, my mind racing.
Rahul… was worse than I ever imagined.
For so long, I had tolerated his behavior—only because Kusuma had asked me to. But today, he had crossed the line. And I wasn't going to stay silent anymore.
After the officer left, Rahul turned back. I stood in front of him, my fists clenched, barely holding back my rage.
"Rahul, I heard what you told him. How could you do this? What have I ever done to you?"
He smirked, leaning lazily against the wall. His eyes held nothing but amusement, as if my anger was just entertainment to him.
"Hey, Manoj! What's with the drama? What are you even talking about?"
"Don't act clueless. I heard everything you told that officer. Now tell me—why did you set me up?"
His smirk widened. He straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his expensive suit.
"Oh? So, you finally figured it out?"
He let out a mocking chuckle and continued.
"Well, what can you do about it? There's no proof, and no one will believe you."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "People like you don't get chances, Manoj. You fight, you struggle, and in the end, you still lose. Meanwhile, I get whatever I want. That job? It's mine. And you?" He scoffed. "You'll be nothing. Just like you've always been."
His words were gasoline to my burning rage. My body tensed, my vision blurred with fury.
He laughed—a cold, cruel sound. "You were never even competition."
That was it. The last spark before the explosion. With a roar, I lunged at him, ready to tear that smug grin off his face.
– – – –
It was already lunchtime. Keshava and Ramu had just finished their classes and headed to the canteen, searching for Suresh.
They spotted him near the counter, busy ordering food from a long list. Once he was done, they joined him at an empty table.
"Hey, Ramu, where's Manoj?" Keshava asked, glancing around. "He told us he'd meet us here after his interview, right?"
"Yeah," Ramu nodded, frowning. "But he's not here. Suresh, have you seen him?"
"No," Suresh replied, shaking his head. "I came here an hour ago, but he never showed up."
Ramu smirked. "Why? Couldn't hold your hunger for just an hour?"
Suresh chuckled. "You got it wrong. I promised Manoj a treat. I knew he'd get selected, so I ordered all this to celebrate."
They all laughed, but Keshava wasn't fully paying attention. Something felt off. Time ticked by, and after half an hour, his unease grew.
He leaned forward. "Ramu, the interview must be over by now, right? So where is he? Something doesn't feel right. Let's go find him. Suresh, wait here."
Suresh nodded as Keshava and Ramu hurried out.
...….
They searched around the campus, checking the corridors and open spaces. Then, at last, they found me—
But it was already too late.
Their eyes widened, locking onto the scene in front of them.
Rahul was pinned against the wall, his feet barely touching the ground. His hands clawed at my arms, his gasps coming in short, desperate bursts. His neatly styled hair was now a mess, strands falling over his panicked eyes.
And me? I was lost.
Rage had taken over, drowning out all reason. My fingers were locked around his throat, squeezing tighter with each second.
"What happened, Rahul?" My voice came out low, trembling with fury. "Where's that big mouth now? Speak!"
Rahul tried, but no words came—only a wheezing, choking sound. His eyes bulged as his body writhed, struggling against my grip.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard shouting. But it felt far away, like another world. Right now, there was only him. Only this moment.
He deserved this. After everything, he had to pay. His fingers grew weaker. His struggles slowed.
Then—suddenly—hands grabbed my arms, yanking me backward.
"Manoj, stop!"
Keshava's voice cut through the haze. He strained, using all his strength to pull me off.
I resisted at first, my body refusing to let go. But then, as if waking from a nightmare, my grip loosened. My breath came out in short, ragged gasps.
Rahul collapsed to the ground, coughing violently, clutching his throat.
But I wasn't done.
My eyes locked onto his trembling hands—still shaking, still desperate. No. He wasn't getting away with this so easily.
"These hands…" I muttered, stepping closer. "These are the hands you used to corrupt that officer, right?"
Rahul coughed, struggling to steady himself, but I didn't care. My rage was blinding. I reached for his arm, ready to snap it—ready to make him pay.
Keshava clung to me, his grip firm, still trying to hold me back.
Rahul saw his chance. Before I could react, he staggered to his feet and slammed a brutal kick into my stomach.
Pain exploded through me as I crashed onto the ground, gasping for air.
"You brat! I'm not letting you off!" Rahul spat, his voice dripping with hatred.
I tried to stand, but my body refused to move. My muscles ached, my vision blurred.
Rahul wiped the blood from his lips, his face twisted in fury. He frantically scanned the surroundings—then his eyes landed on something.
A decorative stone.
His fingers closed around it. Without hesitation, he lifted it above his head, ready to bring it crashing down on me.
Before he could strike, a blur of movement shot past me—Ramu.
Ramu tackled Rahul, yanking him backward just in time. The stone slipped from his grip.
That was my moment. Rage completely took over me. Without realising what I'm doing, I lunged forward, grabbed the stone from the ground, and swung it straight into Rahul's face.
A sickening crack echoed through the air. Blood sprayed across the floor.
Rahul screamed, his hands flying to his face, but I didn't stop. I struck again. And again. Each blow landed with a thud, his nose breaking under the force.
By the time I was done, his once-perfect face was unrecognizable.
A mess of blood, bruises, and broken bones.
My friends struggled to pull me off him, their voices distant echoes in my rage-filled mind.
Rahul writhed on the ground, clutching his face, howling in agony.
"You… you filthy rat!" he choked out. "I'll kill you! I swear I'll—"
A sudden thud silenced him.
Ramu's fist crashed into his forehead, cutting him off mid-sentence.
For a second, everything went still.
Ramu's eyes burned with a terrifying coldness as he loomed over Rahul. His voice was calm, but lethal.
"You talk too much."
For the first time, I saw it—fear in Rahul's eyes. He wasn't going to report this. He wasn't going to tell anyone. Because admitting he got beaten like this? No, Rahul's pride wouldn't allow it.
Finally, I exhaled, my breath still shaky. My rage cooled—just a little.
I glanced at Rahul's face. It was swollen, bleeding, completely out of shape. Like a punctured football.
.....
Keshava and Ramu, both rushed Rahul to a nearby hospital, and left me behind.
The world around me blurred, the distant sounds of students talking and laughing feels unreal. My breath was heavy. My fists ached. Blood—not mine—stained my knuckles.
What had I just done?
I stared down at my hands, covered with blood. My fingers started trembling. The rage that had consumed me minutes ago was starting to fade, replaced by something colder.
Was this what justice looked like? I had beaten Rahul senseless, but had I won? Would anything change?
Who should I blame for the loss?
Rahul? His money? The system that let people like him get away with anything?
I struggled to gather my thoughts, my eyes drifting to the crumpled paper in my hand.
Was this really the outcome of all my hard work?
I had fought, I had given everything… and yet, in the end, money decided my fate.
I wanted to file a complaint. I wanted justice.
But what was the point? Without evidence, they'd laugh in my face. I was just another powerless man in a world ruled by wealth.
I exhaled sharply, crushing the paper in my grip.
Why is money so powerful?