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THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2

Dear Readers and Listeners,


It is always an honor to interact with you. I have said this before, and I say it again—you, the esteemed readers and listeners, are the lifeline of all my creative pursuits. OBSCURUS would never have reached the level of popularity it has achieved without your support and love. For those of you who are new to this website and OBSCURUS, I extend a hearty welcome.


Today, I present to you THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2. This episode, amongst other things, shows how an ordinary soul could suddenly become extraordinary and vice-versa. In the last episode, our protagonist found himself in a rather indefensible position. In the face of constant pestering by five goons led by the ghastly-looking Qasim, our hero digested all the insults and humiliation that came his way. But when the goons spoke filthy things about his daughter, the frail old man could take no more. But with his aged body and weak limbs, what choice was he left with other than swallowing all the insults? Can he raise his voice? Well, we will find out soon.


Before starting the story, I request all of you to visit biswajitbanerjee.com and obscurus.buzzsprout.com, where all the episodes of OBSCURUS are available with transcripts and chapter markers. My website (well, you are already on my website if you are reading this page) provides a lot more than the transcripts and chapter markers of the podcast. It has a lot of information and regularly updated content about my creative pursuits.


We will soon be on Patreon and other platforms where you can support our work. I would also deeply appreciate it if you joined my YouTube channel for a lot of interesting content, including my training videos on SPOKEN ENGLISH FOR NON-NATIVE SPEAKERS.


Now, let's jump into the story. Are you ready for THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2? Here we go.


With love and warm regards,

Biswajit Banerjee


The OBSCURUS ARTWORK conveys the theme of the podcast. OBSCURUS is an exploration of the unknown and the unexplained.
OBSCURUS ARTWORK

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INTRO 00:00:00

 

Welcome to OBSCURUS, your weekly dose of paranormal fiction. Every Wednesday OBSCURUS features new short stories and serialized novels written by novelist, screenwriter, and voice-over artist Biswajit Banerjee. The realm of the paranormal stretches far beyond the usual horror story. So, while you will get to listen to lots of ghost stories on this podcast, there will also be many tales of lesser-known paranormal themes. To get us started, here's your host Biswajit Banerjee.

 

HOST TALK 00:00:47

 

Welcome back, seekers of the hidden and the enigmatic, to OBSCURUS, where the shadows of the untold and the mysterious await to unfold. I am Biswajit Banerjee, your harbinger through the maze of the unknown, steering you into the depths of tales untold and mysteries unexplored. Today, we continue our journey with "THE CHAMPION BOXER," where the narrative thickens, weaving together the elements of the mysterious with the stark realities of our existence, challenging us to question the boundaries of our understanding.

 

In the inaugural chapter of this saga, we were introduced to a protagonist ensnared in a confrontation that tested the limits of his resilience. An ordinary evening walk turned into an unexpected trial, a testament to the unpredictable dance of fate and human will. As our hero stood defiant against insurmountable odds, we ventured with him into a narrative that blurred the lines between the ordinary and the extraordinary.

 

Now, as we stand at the threshold of "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2," the saga delves deeper into the heart of mystery. With every step forward, the narrative weaves a more complex tapestry of challenges and decisions, inviting us to ponder the true nature of courage and the shadows that lurk within our own lives. How will our protagonist navigate the trials that await? And what mysteries will emerge from the shadows of his defiance?

 

As OBSCURUS continues to evolve, we invite you, our esteemed community of the curious and the brave, to journey deeper into the narrative. We're expanding our reach, connecting with you through Patreon and beyond, and creating new portals for engagement with the stories that captivate and challenge us. Your support is the beacon that guides us through the uncharted waters of storytelling, illuminating the path for all who seek to explore the depths of the unknown.

 

Furthermore, I invite you to visit my YouTube channel, where the exploration of mystery extends beyond the auditory. Here, insights into the paranormal meet the tangible world, offering a rich tapestry of knowledge that spans from the cryptic to the cosmic. It's another realm of our collective journey, promising enlightenment and intrigue.

 

As we prepare to unveil "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2," let us approach with open minds and eager spirits. Revisit the beginning of this tale at biswajitbanerjee.com and obscurus.buzzsprout.com and prepare for the revelations that await. The narrative promises to challenge our protagonist and invite us to reflect on the mysteries that thread through our lives.

 

Engage with us, subscribe, and become an integral part of the OBSCURUS community. Your passion for unraveling the mysteries of existence fuels our voyage into the narratives at the heart of the human experience.

 

Prepare to delve into "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2," a story that promises to unravel mysteries and explore the human spirit's resilience in the face of the unknown. Join us on this journey, where every revelation brings us closer to understanding the intricate dance between destiny and determination.

 

THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2 00:05:46

 

Written and Performed by Biswajit Banerjee



Five goons are pester an old man. The poor old soul finds himself in a rather indefensible and hopeless position.
The old man digests all the insult coming his way

00:06:11

 

That was the point I felt I could take no more. Was there anything I could do? An attempt to run away would achieve nothing. With my frail body, I couldn't run too fast. Even if I stretched my abilities to the limits, I couldn't reach a speed these goons on their bicycles couldn't match. But I knew for sure that my soul wasn't prepared to stand another bit of insult. Despite the knowledge that protestations would lead to further trouble, I heard my inner being asking me to protest no matter what.

 

"Tell me about the ups and downs of her body, you sickening old man," the king goon shouted.

 

"Sir, I take strong objection to your words. They are distasteful and unacceptable."

 

The goons were shocked at my words. They didn't expect me to say anything that even sounded like the mildest of protests against what they were doing.

 

"Old man," a stooge said, "how dare you call Qasim Bhai's words objectionable."

 

A sudden wave of toughness moved up my spine as I said, "I have the least interest in talking to stooges. Shut up and let me talk to Qasim straight."

 

I looked at the king goon and said, "Am I not right, Qasim?"

 

"What the hell! You dare to call me by my name, you sick old man."

 

"If you can't be called 'Qasim,' of what purpose is the name?"

 

"Did you all hear him?" a stooge said. " He has the audacity to confront Qasim Bhai."

 

"Probably I didn't make it clear enough that you stooges must keep your mouths shut."

 

The shock my words generated forced them to silence for a minute or so. As the goons exchanged angry looks, I wondered what to do next. The inner drive to preserve my self-respect did alleviate some of my hurt, but the thought of what could happen next caused me jitters. For sure, Qasim and his stooges would avenge the protest that came their way. Now, what could I do to prevent the big trouble ahead? Was there a way to generate fear in these goons so that they refrained from doing anything ugly? I wondered. A scheme surfaced in my mind. Though I wasn't sure if the trick would work, there was nothing better I could think of at that moment.

 

00:09:39

 

"If you have nothing more to say, make way for me to leave," I said, trying to look confident.

 

"You have invited your death, old man. If you had known whom you were talking to, you wouldn't have the courage to be discourteous to me."

 

"Well, Qasim, I know who you are—a petty goon supported by a petty political party. You probably don't know who I am. Otherwise, you wouldn't have the courage to challenge me."

 

"Who do you think you are, Old man?"

 

"My name is Biren Tiwary. I don't expect dumbheads like you to know much about what that name means. So, let me tell you, I have been a boxer of international repute for nearly twenty years. Apart from being the national boxing champion for eighteen years on the trot, I won close to fifty international boxing championships. When I retired about twenty-three years back, I was the world number one in professional boxing. Then, I became a coach in national and international boxing federations. The present world champion and the national champion are my students. When they practice with me, they say that my punches can still break the skulls of the world's top fighters. Qasim, you should thank me for being patient for such a long time. If I had lost my temper and landed a punch or two on your nose, probably you wouldn't be alive now to speak to me."

 

"Look, old man …"

 

"I haven't finished yet, Qasim. To tell the truth, I don't wish to fight weaklings like you. My punches are not meant to crack fused bulbs. They are meant for the ones who are truly tough. For the scums of the earth like you, my students are enough."

 

"Qasim Bhai, this old man is …" The stooge closest to me said as he got down from his bicycle.

 

"Hey, stooge, you better shut up. Right now, I am measuring your 'Qasim Bhai,' the one you believe to be a tough guy. Do you know what he is in reality? He is an ugly balloon flying in the sky. A small pinprick will burst him. And you stooges are like the dust particles on that balloon. Not many blows are needed to make you fly off into nowhere."

 

"I will kill you, old man," Qasim shouted at the top of his voice. 

 

"Look who is talking – an ugly balloon waiting to be brought down to the ground with a pinprick. But I don't wish to make my hands dirty by pricking you. All I will do is talk to my students located in this city. Within minutes, all your bones, as well as the bones of your political masters, will be turned into powder."

 

"You want me to believe you are a boxer?"

 

"Not an ordinary boxer, Qasim. I am a champion boxer."

 

"Then demonstrate your skills, you sick liar."

 

Qasim rushed at me. As I stared death in the face, I didn't know from where the powers of self-preservation started flowing in my blood. I made a fist and punched Qasim's nose as hard as I could. His speedy approach doubled the impact of the blow, and his massive body fell to the ground. A stream of blood oozed out of his nostrils. A voice inside me said I should use his unsettled position to my advantage. As he started getting up, I kicked his nose. The goon fell again.

 

Meanwhile, the stooges got down from their bicycles and rushed at me. Yet again, I had no idea how I could command such heroic powers – I punched each one with the alacrity and ferocity of a true fighter. I was surprised by the power I demonstrated.

 

While I was dealing with the stooges, Qasim got up and rushed at me again. By now, I had lost my fears. The pacy approach of the goon went against him again when I landed yet another punch on his nose. His monstrous figure fell with a thump. Now, I had the courage to lift his face from the ground and punch his nose again, and again, and again, and again and again. It bled uncontrollably, and from the look of his eyes, I could sense he was close to being unconscious. Any more punches could kill him.

 

The stooges attacked me again, but all they got was a spree of quick and skull-cracking punches. All five of the goons now lay before me. Their leader, Qasim, was close to being unconscious, while the other four didn't look like they would be able to get up any time soon.

 

00:16:27

 

At that moment, the President of our Residents' Welfare Association and others appeared on the road. They quickly walked up to me.

 

Unable to digest what she saw, the President said, "These appear to be the same goons who troubled others."

 

"Yes, these are the same goons, Madam," the man who complained about how the goons robbed him at the resident welfare association's meeting said, "But how they are lying on the road, it seems someone has bashed them up."

 

"For sure, someone has bashed them up," The President said, looking at me.

 

"They could have harmed me, Madam. I had no other choice," I said.

 

"Did you bash them up?" She looked at me with disbelief.

 

"Well, Madam, please appreciate I had no other choice."

 

"Aren't you bound by the rules? We want peace in this area. You signed a contract just months back. How could you then do something so ghastly?"

 

"Sorry, Madam, but I had to do something in self-defense."

 

"You call this self-defense? I am unsure what the political party will do when they learn about what you did to their men."

 

“I … I …”

 

"Probably, you should go home. We will rush these guys to the hospital. I hope they survive. That man whose nose is bleeding profusely appears to be critical."

 

"Sorry, Madam."

 

"Please go home and let us handle this now."

 

00:18:09

 

I walked toward home with a load of anxiety. These goons would sooner or later discover my real identity. They would know that I was no boxer. My beating them up was a fluke, just a matter of chance. For sure, I was no match for them. The next time they come to me, there won't be five. There will probably be fifteen. But the number didn't matter. I wasn't good enough to match even one of them. With my frail figure and brittle bones, was I in a position to confront the political party and its goons? The President was right. My action would not invite a good reaction. The party would wreak vengeance on me. This locality was no longer safe for me. Even if I apologized to the party's bosses, they would surely not be ready to forget the insult I inflicted on their men. But could I have done anything different? Of course, I could. I should have rejected the voice of my ego and digested the insult. The worst part was my deed would be more than just a source of trouble for me. My wife Sujata, daughter Simran, and son Manohar would also face the heat. I cursed myself for not controlling my anger.

 

By the time I was standing before the entrance of my apartment, I was trembling with panic and anxiety.

 

Simran opened the door.

 

"What's wrong with you, Papa? You are sweating profusely." Simran said as she helped me sit on the sofa.

 

Manohar approached me and said, "Papa, it is not a good sign. I have never seen you sweating like this. Let's go to the doctor."

 

"No doctor can help me now. Oh no, what have I done?" I said, doing a facepalm.

 

Sujata rushed from the kitchen to the living room.

 

"What is happening to you? Your body is full of sweat." She said.

 

"I made a huge blunder, Sujata. We can't live in this place anymore."

 

"Are you serious?"

 

"Yes, we have to shift from this place."

 

"But you purchased this apartment with all your savings. How can you just abandon this place?"

 

"Nothing is more important than life. They won't spare us."

 

"You mean we have enemies out here, papa?" Manohar asked.

 

"Who will not spare us, papa?" Simran said, sitting next to me.

 

"Those goons."

 

"Goons! Do you mean the goons some people were talking about in the residents' welfare association meeting?" Sujata asked.

 

"Yes, while I was going to the chemist's shop, those goons blocked my way and started acting tough."

 

"What happened then?"

 

"They said all kinds of dirty things. Till the time they were insulting me, I digested their words. But I couldn't control my anger when they started talking filthy about Simran."

 

"Why didn't you just walk away from there?" Manohar asked.

 

"There was no way to escape, and I ended up making a foolish plan."

 

"What plan, papa?" Simran asked.

 

"I told them lies – a chain of lies to frighten them. But they weren't afraid of my lies and attacked me. So, I had to fight them. I had luck on my side today. That's why I managed to beat them up."

 

"How many goons were there?" Manohar asked.

 

"There were five. The group's leader was a filthy-looking man called Qasim."

 

"You just said you beat them up," Sujata observed.

 

"Strange but true. Despite being so frail, I beat up all the five goons. It's a mystery how I generated so much courage and strength. The President of the Residents' Welfare Association was so angry with me for breaking the conduct rules of the association."

 

"I can't understand why she was angry. She should have been happy that someone from the residential complex had the guts to fight the goons," Sujata said.

 

"But Sujata, I signed a contract before moving into this complex. The contract's provisions require that no one purchasing an apartment in the complex must commit acts such as manhandling a person in and around the complex. The President was upset that I breached the contract."

 

"Come on, papa, you acted in self-defense," Manohar said.

 

"Yes, I did. But these goons will hit back. They are not ordinary ruffians. A political party supports them. I shouldn't have reacted so foolishly. What a blunder on my part!" 

 

"Papa, look here," Simran said with a big smile on her face.

 

"What makes you smile?"

 

"What lies did you tell them?" Simran asked.

 

"The most foolish lies. I didn't know my mind was capable of manufacturing such fairy tales."

 

"Tell us about the lies."

 

"I pretended to be Biren Tiwary, the great Indian boxer of international fame. At one point, he was the world number one in professional boxing."

 

After I informed my family of the lies I told the goons, there was complete silence for about a minute. Then, all three of them roared into laughter.

 

"You find it funny! Have you all gone crazy or what? Don't you realize the trouble I have invited with my foolish act?"

 

"Papa, look at that photograph," Simran said, pointing at the wall to my left.

 

CONCLUDING REMARKS 00:24:38

 

As the echoes of "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2" gradually recede into the silence of anticipation, we find ourselves at the cusp of a revelation, poised on the edge of a narrative precipice that promises to plunge us into the depths of the unknown. I am Biswajit Banerjee, and it has been my utmost privilege to guide you through this latest chapter of our enigmatic journey on OBSCURUS.

 

Today, we witnessed our protagonist navigate a labyrinth of challenges, his spirit tested by shadows lurking on the fringes of reality and morality. With each step, the story weaves a complex tapestry of human resilience, mystery, and the unyielding pursuit of dignity against overwhelming odds. Thus far, the narrative has been a testament to the strength found in defiance, the power of truth in a world shrouded in uncertainty.

 

As we stand on the threshold of "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3," I extend to you, our cherished explorers of the obscure, an invitation to a saga's culmination that promises nothing short of transformative. The next episode is poised to unravel mysteries that have thus far only hinted at their depths, to reveal truths that may challenge our perceptions of strength, courage, and the paranormal elements that thread through the tapestry of our narrative.

 

Why should no one miss "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3"? Because what awaits is a convergence of paths—where the protagonist's journey intersects with the unearthly, where the story transcends the boundaries of the tangible and ventures into realms that defy explanation. This chapter promises revelations that will illuminate the shadows that have enshrouded our tale and offer a reflection on the struggles and triumphs that define our existence.

 

As OBSCURUS continues to unfold its mysteries, I encourage you to revisit the chapters that have led us to this point. Reflect on the journey, the decisions made, and the shadows encountered, for in understanding the past lies the key to unlocking the secrets that await.

 

Your engagement, curiosity, and unwavering support are the lifeblood of OBSCURUS. Through platforms like Patreon, you empower us to delve deeper into the realms of the unknown and to tell stories that resonate, challenge, and inspire. For those who seek to explore beyond the auditory, my YouTube channel remains a sanctuary of knowledge, offering insights into the paranormal, the mysterious, and the storytelling journey itself.

 

As we eagerly anticipate "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3," I thank you for your companionship on this journey. The path ahead promises answers and a deeper understanding of the mysteries that bind us, a trip into the heart of the unknown that none of us should miss.

Until we meet again, keep seeking, questioning, and, above all, listening. The next chapter in OBSCURUS's world awaits, where every story opens a door to new dimensions of understanding.

 

THEMATIC MUSIC - FASTER THAN LIGHT, AN AI MUSIC COMPOSITION BY BISWAJIT BANERJEE 00:28:53

 

OUTRO 00:31:34

 

Thanks for listening to OBSCURUS. If you like what you heard, please subscribe and visit biswajitbanerjee.com for more information about Biswajit's books, movies, documentaries, and other creative pursuits. We shall see you next Wednesday with another episode of OBSCURUS. Till then, take care!

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