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THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3

Esteemed Readers and Listeners,


I heartily welcome you again to OBSCURUS, your doorway to exploring, if not unfolding, the mysteries of the universal dimensions, known and unknown. Without your constant support and love, OBSCURUS would never have reached where it stands now. These stories are not just about ghosts and spirits. Although several stories do entail themes of disembodied consciousnesses, the central purpose of OBSCURUS is to promote exploration of the enigmatic world we live in. Believe it or not, every conceivable existence of tangible or intangible entities can be questioned. Well, it is not my intention to take you into the depths of the philosophical ideas that question the very existence of things, the presence of which we take for granted. All I want is to bring to the kind notice of my learned readers and listeners the fact that OBSCURUS is not just a paranormal fiction podcast. It is rather a quest for the truth, if there's any, that is.


I also take this opportunity to inform you that you will soon be able to support OBSCURUS on Patreon and other forums. Your support will be truly appreciated. With production costs always going up, your contributions, big and small, will mean a lot to us.


Do find time to visit biswajitbanerjee.com and obscurus.buzzsprout.com for more information on my creative pursuits and the transcripts and chapter markers of the OBSCURUS episodes.


Also, consider taking my course, SPOKEN ENGLISH FOR NON-NATIVE SPEAKERS. The techniques I teach in this course could be life-transforming and make your English touch the heights of excellence.


And now, it is time to begin today's story. This episode is the concluding part of THE CHAMPION BOXER. Here we go.


With love and warm regards,


Biswajit Banerjee


The OBSCURUS ARTWORK represents the theme of the podcast which may be summarized as the quest for the truth, if there's any.
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 again, dear listeners and seekers of the enigmatic, to OBSCURUS, your sanctuary for the mysteries that dance on the edge of the known and the unknown. I am Biswajit Banerjee, your guide and companion on this journey of discovery and revelation. Today, we delve into the eagerly awaited conclusion of our trilogy, "THE CHAMPION BOXER," a narrative that promises to bridge the gap between the past and the present, the ordinary and the extraordinary.

 

As we stand on the brink of revelation, following a tale that has led our protagonist from the depths of obscurity to the verge of an incredible transformation, "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 2" left us pondering the nature of strength, identity, and the shadows of a forgotten legacy. Now poised to uncover the truths shrouded in mystery, we invite you to join us for the final act in a saga that defies the boundaries of time and memory.

 

"THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3" is not just a conclusion but a gateway to the extraordinary. It challenges us to question the very essence of our beings and the mysteries that define us. This chapter promises revelations that will unravel the enigma of our champion's past and present and inspire us to believe in the limitless potential within us all.

 

As we journey together through this final chapter, I invite you to explore the world of OBSCURUS and beyond. Visit biswajitbanerjee.com, obscurus.buzzsprout.com, and my YouTube Channel, where the realms of the mysterious are expanded through storytelling, insights into the paranormal, and the art of communication. Here, you can delve deeper into the mysteries that captivate us and discover resources to enhance your journey of discovery.

 

For those seeking to unlock new realms of expression and understanding, my training program, 'SPOKEN ENGLISH FOR NON-NATIVE SPEAKERS,' offers a pathway to mastering a language and bridging worlds. Explore this program on my website and YouTube channel, and join a community of learners who are expanding their horizons and embracing the power of communication.

 

Your support and engagement have been the lifeblood of OBSCURUS. As we continue to grow and explore new frontiers of storytelling and knowledge, consider joining us on Patreon and other forums, where your contributions can help us venture further into the unknown, bringing back tales that enlighten, entertain, and inspire.

 

So, as we gather once more under the banner of OBSCURUS for "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3," let us prepare ourselves for a journey that concludes our current tale but also opens the door to new mysteries, new questions and an unending quest for understanding. Subscribe, engage, and join our community as we reveal the final chapter of a story that has captivated our hearts and minds.

 

Prepare to be enthralled, question, and marvel at the journey of "THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3." Together, let us embrace the conclusion of this tale and the beginning of countless more as we continue to explore the vast, uncharted realms of OBSCURUS.

 

THE CHAMPION BOXER PART 3 00:06:02

 

Written and Performed by Biswajit Banerjee



The picture depicts the exploits of World Number One in Professional Boxing - Biren Tiwari, the man who refuses to age!
Biren Tiwary is unstoppable! He holds the World Number One Title in Professional Boxing, and wins a streak of tournaments.

 

00:06:26

 

Upon shifting my gaze to the wall, I found a large framed photograph in which I held a large belt high in the air. The words 'World Number One—Title Awarded by Professional Boxing Association, Austria' were engraved on the large golden buckle of the belt. My body in the picture was just the opposite of my current figure. The muscular physique in the photo looked more than double the size of the leader of the goons I had bashed up a while back.

 

"Papa, you have been one of the most celebrated international boxers in the world."

 

The images of the past rushed through my head – my banging the most formidable fighters of the world, winning one trophy after the other, felicitation functions organized in my honor where the President of India conferred the highest sports awards to me, the countless television shows in which I figured, me being hailed as the greatest Indian boxer by the national team on the day I retired from the sport, my stints as a coach for national as well as international boxers, and the day I finally decided to retire from the business of coaching."

 

"Has your memory returned, papa?"

 

Simran lovingly put an arm around my shoulder.

 

"Yes, it is coming back, I guess."

 

"Papa, you have had severe memory issues for close to two years now. Thankfully, the problem is not irreversible. The doctors are confident that your ailment will not lead to permanent dementia. Your response to some of the medicines has been great. As for the others, the doctors feel increased dosages of those medicines will speed up the recovery. You will be fine soon."

 

"So, the medicines I would buy from the chemist were for regaining my memory."

 

"Yes, Papa. The contract the President of the Residents' Welfare Association mentioned was surely not the contract you signed when purchasing this apartment."

 

"Then which contract did she talk about?"

 

The smile on Simran's face widened.

 

"Papa, although you have grown frail, the power in your punches is still good enough to bash up local goons like the ones you slammed a while back. The government apprehends that your punches can kill ordinary people. That's why the National Boxing Federation made you sign a contract that provides that you would not punch anyone without absolute necessity. Don't worry, 'self-defense' is covered under the definition of absolute necessity. The police cannot bring a charge against you for beating up those goons."

 

"So now you know that the contract the President mentioned was the one you entered into with the National Boxing Federation," Sujata said.

 

"You didn't tell any lies, papa," Manohar said, "you told those goons the truth thinking you were telling lies."

 

"All you need to do is make one phone call," Sujata observed. " Your students will destroy the bastion of these goons. Even their political masters will not be happy if your students get into the picture."

 

"But if I am such a famous man, how could those goons not recognize me?"

 

"Who follows boxing in this part of the world, papa," Manohar replied. "All they are interested in is cricket."

 

"Besides, you don't look how you used to look when you regularly appeared on the television.

 

"You may also file a complaint with the police, papa," Simran suggested, "they will take action against the goons and possibly against their political masters as well."

 

Before we could decide what to do next, some noises from the apartment complex's common space caught our attention.

 

"People seem to have gathered outside our apartment," Sujata said.

 

00:11:44

 

The calling bell rang within seconds of her finishing the sentence. I got up from the sofa.

 

"I will see who it is."

 

"Be careful, papa," Manohar said.

 

I looked through the peephole. A man with thick mustache stood outside, and there were some people behind him who looked no better than his stooges. Behind the stooges stood the President and other office bearers of the association.

 

The man's face appeared familiar. As I opened the door, it struck me that he was Waris Sheikh, one of the nation's leading leftist politicians. Waris appeared almost every day on television debates.

 

When I confronted him, a wide smile crossed his mouth. He shook my hand and said, "Sir, I am so fortunate to be meeting you. I have been such a huge fan of yours all my life. My name is Waris Sheikh, the Area President of the National Progressive Left Party."

 

"Umm hmm … how can I help you," I said with coldness in my voice.

 

"Sir, I have just come to apologize. I believe some of my men bothered you in the street."

 

"You mean those goons are your men?"

 

"Sir, they are not goons. They are young men who just tried to have some fun."

 

"So, you think that harassing people is the same as having fun."

 

"No, Sir, I didn't mean that. What they did was wrong, so I have come to say 'sorry.'

 

"They often cause nuisance in this area. Since the time you opened your office in this locality, these goons have been acting tough with the people. Do you expect us to tolerate all this nonsense?"

 

"Well, Sir, I didn't know they were doing such foolish things. What they have been doing is shameful and unacceptable. You did the right thing by bashing up those buffoons.

 

"Mr. Tiwary, Mr. Sheikh doesn't want this problem to get complicated any further," The President said in a tone that was submissive, to say the least. The strong lady who enjoyed bossing the association's male office bearers now sounded like a lamb before a tiger. Why people present a servile demonstration of respectfulness while dealing with politicians is beyond my comprehension. Her meek words irritated me beyond limits.

 

"Why are you speaking this way, Madam? Your tone differs from the one you usually use when talking to people in the complex."

 

"Sorry, I didn't get you, Mr. Tiwary."

 

"Do you want me to be blunt, Madam?"

 

"Yes, Sir, please tell me how my words upset you?"

 

"Your words have definite shades of slavishness. You don't speak so meekly to us, do you? If Mr. Sheikh's presence has caused you to act like a weakling, you ought not continue as our President. Politicians are supposed to be our servants, not our masters."

 

“Mr. Tiwary … how … what … I …”

 

The President was embarrassed about the truth I spoke so candidly. Some of the President's male subordinates standing close to her seemed to enjoy the blunting of their male-bashing boss.

 

"Absolutely, Sir," Mr. Sheikh said, "we are your servants indeed."

 

"What do you want now, Mr. Sheikh? If your purpose of seeing me was to apologize for the doings of your goon colleagues, I would not accept the apologies till those scums of the earth learn to behave. The next time I see them acting tough with anyone, I will ensure that not just those idiots but their political masters also pay for their deeds."

 

"Sir, rest assured they will never do such a thing again."

 

"Fine, but I hope your promises don't turn out to be like the ones you make before the elections to the public?"

 

Sheikh laughed. The laughter was more horrible to the ears than the sound special effects in horror movies.

 

"Can we come in for some time, Sir?" Mr. Sheikh asked.

 

"What for, Mr. Sheikh? I guess the objective of the meeting has been met; you have already apologized.

 

The look of defeat and embarrassment on his face gave me untold pleasure. Here was the man who made lousy and sometimes threatening arguments on the television news debates when presented with facts and figures about how sickening and hypocritical his party had been.

 

"Do you have anything else to say, Mr. Sheikh?"

 

"Well, Sir, I have a request."

 

"And what is that?"

 

"Please don't report the matter to the police, and also don't involve the District and State Boxing Federations in these local issues."

 

"Oh, I see. You don't want the truth about the goons and their masters to flash on the news channels through the police. And, of course, you know that the boxing federations and my students will raise a devil against your party if they learn what your goons tried to do to me."

 

"Sir, I am really sorry."

 

"Look, Mr. Sheikh, if I see those goons roaming the streets of this locality again, I will neither spare them nor leaders like you. Besides, the presence of your party's office in this area must not cause any inconvenience to the residents. If your political activities cause disturbance in the area, I will write to the lieutenant governor and the top bosses of the Estates Department to have your office shut down."

 

"All that won't be necessary, Sir. You or the other residents won't have any reasons to complain, I promise you that."

 

"Madam, you could have taken up the matter with Mr. Sheikh earlier." The Joint Secretary of the association said.

 

"But I did write a letter." The President responded.

 

I laughed and said, "Madam, people like Mr. Sheikh are too busy to read such letters. And they are also too busy to listen to public complaints. They deal with the public only before the elections."

 

"Well, Sir, with all due respect, I must say that what you are saying isn't correct, Sir," Mr. Sheikh said with a forced smile. " There are all kinds of people in politics, like in every other sphere—reasonable and unreasonable. As far as I am concerned, Sir, I have always prioritized public issues before anything else."

 

"Indeed, Mr. Sheikh, that's why your goons fearlessly walk the streets of this locality," I reacted.

 

"Sir, I have already said that won't happen again."

 

"Fine, I guess the meeting is over now."

 

"Okay, Sir, thank you so much." Mr. Sheikh said, shaking my hand.

 

"Don't forget your promise."

 

They left, and I closed the door.

 

"Papa, you are a real champ," Simran remarked.

 

"An absolute champ indeed." Manohar laughed.

 

"Great going, champ." Sujata's eyes sparkled with joy.

 

We got into a tight family hug.

 

***

 

00:20:53

 

The unusual part of the story I narrated isn't my forgetting about my being a celebrity boxer. What I witnessed the next morning was the unusual part. Can you believe it? After getting up from the bed when I saw myself in the full-length mirror in my son's bedroom-cum-gym, I didn't see the frail man who fought the goons the day before. My image was of the man I used to be about thirty years back – young and muscular. I now looked exactly as I did, as documented in the photograph on the living room wall. Sujata, Simran, and Manohar looked at me, their mouths agape with disbelief.

 

"Papa, is that you?" Simran rubbed her eyes.

 

"Steroids, you must have taken some magical steroids." Manohar pressed my biceps to see if they were real.

 

"Biren, I can't believe that's you."

 

***

 

00:22:16

 

The doctors had no explanation for my getting younger and muscular. 

 

"Reverse aging of this magnitude is impossible. No amount of exercise or steroids can make a man in his mid-sixties look like a young man of thirty-five. I believe you have been exercising regularly. I never cared to look behind your shirt and was thus under the impression that you are a frail old man. Well, I must say you were successful in tricking all of us into believing that you were weak," the doctor who was majorly in charge of my case said.

 

The best part was I didn't just reverse-age overnight. My issues of forgetfulness were also gone for good. 

 

My students and the members of the boxing federations were surprised to see my new avatar. They had no idea what happened. Some of the boxers of the day requested me to tell them what special drugs I was taking to maintain such incredible fitness levels. I received many congratulatory emails when my pictures flashed on the news channels. Two of those emails were particularly interesting.

 

Sheikh's email read –

 

Dear Sir,

 

Congratulations on your new looks. You have proved that age is just a number and that one can achieve a muscular physique regardless of age. 

 

I am also writing to inform you that after due deliberations on the issues relating to the inconvenience some of our party workers caused, the party has decided to shut down our office in your area. We will soon be shifting to a new place. Our party is committed to taking all possible steps in the public interest. The boys who caused inconvenience to you the other day have now recovered from their injuries and have committed never to commit acts that are so much against our party principles.

 

Thank you so much for your cooperation.

 

Best Regards,

 

Waris Sheikh,

Area President, National Progressive Left Party

 

The second interesting mail was from Greg Trudeau, the current world number one in professional boxing.

 

Dear Mr. Biren Tiwary,

 

You are a boxing legend who ruled the arena of international professional boxing for years together. I am sure that if you had not retired, you would have continued to rule as world number one for many more years.

 

Even now, at sixty-four, you have a physique far better than active boxers like me, Amiss, Brook, Caran, and Lee. To tell the truth, your recent appearances on the media have made us all wonder what's playing up in your mind. Do you have any plans to return to professional boxing? Some boxing experts believe that the fact that you have still kept your muscles intact is an indication that you are going to stage a return to the professional boxing arena.

 

I would be grateful if you could share your plans with us.

 

Regards,

 

Greg Trudeau

 

Both the writers were steeped in fear. While one feared diminishing public image and consequent political losses, the other feared losing his title. What caused the fear? Clearly, the phenomenon that reduced my age by about thirty years.

 

What would you call that phenomenon – abnormal? Subnormal? Supernormal? Supranormal? Or paranormal?

 

CONCLUDING REMARKS 00:27:23

 

As we close the captivating saga of THE CHAMPION BOXER, we part ways with a sense of awe and reflection. This narrative has taken us through the depths of human resilience, mystery, and an unforgettable journey of self-discovery. This story, a profound exploration of identity, legacy, and the indomitable spirit within us leaves us with more than just memories; it invites us to ponder the unseen forces that shape our lives and the power of the past to transform the present.

 

I, Biswajit Banerjee, thank you for joining me on this extraordinary journey within OBSCURUS, where tales of the unknown and the mystical come alive, challenging our perceptions and enlightening our understanding of the world and ourselves.

 

Stay tuned and remain glued to OBSCURUS, for our exploration into the enigmatic continues. The next episode promises to unveil another intriguing story, weaving together the mysterious and supernatural threads in ways that will captivate your imagination and provoke your thoughts.

 

Your engagement, curiosity, and passion for the journey into the realms of the unexplained make OBSCURUS a unique space for storytelling and discovery. Subscribe, engage, and join our ever-growing community as we venture forth into new tales that await in the shadowy corners of existence.

 

Prepare to be enthralled, question, and explore with us again. The next chapter in OBSCURUS's world is on the horizon, promising new mysteries, new revelations, and an unceasing quest for the extraordinary.

 

Thank you for being an integral part of this journey. Until we meet again, keep exploring, keep wondering, and above all, keep listening. The mysteries of OBSCURUS are endless, and the following story is just around the corner, ready to retake us into the heart of the unknown.

 

THEMATIC MUSIC - ELEMENTS OF SUBLIMITY, AN AI MUSIC COMPOSITION BY BISWAJIT BANERJEE 00:30:16

 

OUTRO 00:33:11

 

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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