The Machiavellian Handshake
The lunch bell rang, and the classroom slowly emptied into noise and chatter.
I was still arranging my books when the door slid open.
Mr. Hulwan, my new class teacher, stepped inside.
"Hey Raj! Let's eat lunch together."
I paused for a second.
Normally, I would have refused. Sitting with teachers wasn't really my thing.
But today… there was something I wanted to ask.
"Okay," I said, picking up my tiffin and following him.
---
The staffroom was unusually quiet.
Most of the teachers had gone to the cafeteria. Only one person remained—
A female teacher sitting near the window.
Miss Patan.
She taught Sanskrit, a subject I didn't take, so I barely knew her.
We sat near Mr. Hulwan's desk and opened our lunch.
"Ah! Mr. Hulwan, can I join you two?" Miss Patan asked, looking over at us.
"Yeah, sure," he replied casually.
She moved her chair closer and joined us.
For a while, we ate in silence.
The only sounds were the clinking of lunchboxes and the faint hum of the ceiling fan.
Miss Patan shared some of her food with us, and we did the same.
It felt… normal.
Almost peaceful.
---
Then suddenly—
The door creaked open.
Someone peeked inside.
It was her.
The same girl I saw yesterday.
And again this morning.
So… we really do go to the same college.
She stood there for a few seconds, holding something in her hand—maybe papers.
Her eyes briefly met mine.
Then—
She left.
Without saying anything.
---
"Teacher, can I ask you something?" I spoke.
Before I could continue—
"Don't ask anything. Get back to studying again," Mr. Hulwan cut me off.
"You missed a week's worth of knowledge. I arranged notes for you. I asked other teachers and students too. You'll get everything in two days."
I stayed quiet.
"You missed college? Why?" Miss Patan asked, looking at me with concern.
"Some things happened. He didn't come for about a week," Mr. Hulwan answered before I could.
"…..So you're the guy from rumours!" Miss Patan said.
"Miss Patan!" Mr. Hulwan raised his voice.
"Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it in a bad way," she quickly corrected herself.
"I just meant… you shouldn't let yourself be affected by rumours."
"I… I'm sorry for raising my voice," Mr. Hulwan said, calming down.
"No, it's okay. And besides, mock exams are next month, so you should be ready!" she added.
"Okay," I replied.
After that—
Silence.
We finished our lunch without another word.
---
After college ended, Mr. Hulwan came to my classroom again.
He handed me a stack of notes.
"Do your best."
That's all he said.
And then—
My punishment.
Skipping a week of college meant I had to clean the classroom for half a month.
"I guess I'll be busy…" I mumbled with a faint smile.
"Exam preparation… and cleaning."
---
I picked up a broom and started sweeping the floor.
The empty classroom echoed with each movement.
But my mind wasn't quiet.
Mr. Hulwan's words from earlier kept replaying.
He said the money wasn't stolen.
Just missing.
The janitor had already submitted everything.
And when the rumour started—that someone stole money—it was reported to my former class teacher.
He transferred himself.
Because of guilt.
That's why he became my new class teacher.
…
A lie.
A clean, simple lie.
Maybe he told that story to protect me.
Or maybe—
To protect himself.
Because I knew one thing.
If the janitor had found something, it would have been reported properly.
And my former class teacher would have said something.
But he didn't.
Not a single word.
---
I was alone.
Sweeping.
Thinking.
When suddenly—
Bang!
The classroom door swung open.
I turned.
She walked in.
Ananya.
The same girl I helped the other night.
"Did you want something from this class?" I asked.
"Yes, but what are you doing here all alone?" she asked, looking around.
"Cleaning."
"But the college has janitors to do that!"
"It's my punishment."
"Oh…"
She paused.
Then quietly walked toward the corner.
Picked up another broom.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"You know what? I'll help you."
"Huh?!"
"If we do it together, it'll finish twice as fast, right?"
I stared at her.
"But why are you helping me?"
"You're a good guy. I know that."
"I'm not one of those people who judge others based on rumours."
"You sure? There are lots of bad rumours about me."
"In this world, angels have scars… and devils have pretty faces," she said calmly.
"So we should trust ourselves when deciding who to believe."
I paused for a moment, then replied,
"As Niccolò Machiavelli said, a king who builds his empire on trust builds it on something that slowly sinks."
She looked at me and shrugged.
"I'm not a politician or a leader," she said.
"So I don't need that kind of advice."
"And if someone betrays me—"
She smiled slightly.
"I'll destroy them socially."
"Mr. Second place in the whole college."
I exhaled.
"Let's just clean."
From that conversation…
It felt like she already knew me.
Not just from that night.
But from before.
---
"Thank you for helping," I said after a while.
"Why are you thanking me?"
"Because you're helping me."
"It's not a big deal."
"But it still helped me."
She smiled faintly.
---
After a while—
"Hey, Raj…"
"Y-Yes!"
"You're a really, really good guy."
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is."
"For me… you're the nicer one."
"Huh? Me?"
"I mean… you're helping me clean, ignoring rumours, treating me normally…"
"It makes me happy."
"Hehehe…"
She laughed softly.
"Was that strange?" I asked.
"It's the first time someone thanked me so directly for something so normal."
"It makes me happy."
Then—
She raised her hand toward me.
"I like to be your friend, Raj. Let's be friends."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm the one asking."
"Here—give me your hand."
Before I could react—
She grabbed my hand.
"Ahh!"
"Handshake," she said firmly.
"Now we're friends."
"Okay… nice to meet you."
"Yup, nice to meet you too."
---
"By the way, what did you come here for?" I asked.
"Oh, that… I came to see if Mr. Hulwan is here."
"Maybe he's still in the staffroom. You can go, I'll finish cleaning."
"Don't worry. I'll meet him anyway today."
I didn't understand what she meant.
But I didn't ask.
---
As I continued sweeping—
One thought stayed in my mind.
I always believed I was different from others.
But Ananya—
She looked at me like she understood.
Like she had seen someone like me before.
Someone carrying the same weight.
The same silence.
The same pain.
But one thing was certain.
In the last semester of my junior college—
I made a friend.