(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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....
The entire bar descended into chaos.
Broken glass covered the floor.
Music still blasted absurdly in the background as screams echoed across the room.
The owner rolled on the ground clutching his bleeding forehead while the workers backed away in panic.
And at the center of it all stood the masked figure in the black hoodie.
Still terrifyingly calm.
The distorted voice echoed again beneath the Red Ranger mask.
"Who pushed Sivakumar?"
Silence but this time tensed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Nobody answered immediately.
Then slowly…
Around ten men who had been involved in the earlier protest confrontation stepped forward from different corners of the bar.
Some angry. Some drunk.
Some finally realizing this was connected to the previous day's incident.
One of the men who had earlier bragged loudly about pushing Sivakumar laughed arrogantly and pointed at himself.
"I'm the one who pu—"
PAK!
The sound exploded across the room.
Before he could even finish the sentence, Karuppu's slap landed across his face like a cricket bat swing.
The force spun the man sideways violently.
His face smashed directly into a nearby wooden table hard enough to crack it apart.
The man collapsed motionless among broken wood pieces.
For a second…
Everyone froze seeing the masked man meant a serious business.
Because that wasn't a normal slap.
That looked like attempted murder sponsored by physics.
Then another man roared angrily and rushed forward.
"DAI!"
But before he could even properly attack—
Karuppu moved. Faster than him.
The years of cricket training, reflex drills, and athletic conditioning exploded into motion instantly.
He sidestepped the charge smoothly.
Grabbed two empty glass bottles from a nearby table.
And—
-CRACK! -CRACK!
Both bottles shattered against the attacker's head almost simultaneously.
"-Ahhhh!!!"
The man screamed horribly while collapsing to his knees clutching his bleeding scalp.
What followed after that…
Could barely even be called a fight.
It became a one-sided massacre.
Karuppu moved through the bar like accumulated anger finally finding release.
One man swung a chair.
Karuppu kicked it away before driving his elbow into the man's stomach hard enough to send him crashing into tables.
Another tried attacking from behind.
Karuppu grabbed his collar and slammed his face into the counter back and forth.
Someone threw a bottle.
Karuppu ducked instinctively before launching a steel plate directly into the attacker's forehead.
The room filled with:
screams, breaking furniture, shattered bottles, and terrified shouting.
Even the workers stopped trying to interfere.
Because the masked figure looked less like a person now…
And more like something unleashed.
Meanwhile throughout the entire beating—Karuppu repeated only one thing.
Again. And again. And again.
"Go apologize to Sivakumar."
A punch.
"Go apologize."
A kick.
"Go apologize."
Another bottle shattered.
At one point one of the men cried desperately.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
Karuppu tilted his head slightly beneath the Red Ranger mask.
Then answered calmly like it was obvious.
"Concerned citizen."
The reply somehow felt more terrifying than the violence itself.
Eventually…
The ten men lay scattered across the destroyed bar groaning in pain.
Some barely conscious. Some bleeding. Some openly crying.
The owner himself crawled desperately near Karuppu.
"Please…"
Karuppu crouched before him slowly.
Then pointed toward the school direction outside.
"Near children…"
His voice became colder.
"You sell poison."
Then toward the injured men around.
"And you touch a reputed person like Sivakumar."
The owner's face turned pale instantly.
Because now he finally understood.
This wasn't random revenge. This was personal he could feel it.
Karuppu slowly stood up.
Then looked around the destroyed bar silently.
Broken alcohol bottles covered the floor everywhere.
A dangerous amount of alcohol had spilled across tables and wooden surfaces during the fight.
The workers suddenly sensed something horrifying.
One of them panicked immediately.
"STOP HIM!"
Too late.
Karuppu calmly grabbed a lighter from the counter.
-CLICK.
A tiny flame appeared beneath the mask.
For one brief second…
The flickering fire reflected across the red plastic Ranger visor.
Then—He tossed it at the ground which was being filled by alcohol.
-WHOOSH!
Flames erupted instantly across the alcohol-soaked floor.
The fire spread frighteningly fast.
Panic exploded all around.
"FIRE!"
"WATER!"
"RUN!"
Workers scrambled desperately while smoke rapidly filled the room.
Meanwhile the masked figure simply walked calmly toward the exit.
No hurry to go away. No fear.
At the entrance, he paused briefly.
Then without turning back—Spoke one final sentence.
"Next time…"
A small tilt of the head.
"…use full strength before touching old people."
And then—Karuppu disappeared into the Chennai night while flames consumed the illegal bar behind him.
The flashback ended there.
Inside the Sivakumar house, silence filled the hall once again after Karthi finished explaining.
Jothika stared blankly for several seconds.
"...."
Then slowly looked toward Sivakumar.
"…And you still don't know for sure it was him?"
Sivakumar let out a long tired sigh.
-Sigh!
"No."
A pause.
"But honestly…"
He rubbed his forehead helplessly.
"…who else wears a Red Ranger mask to commit violence?"
Even Lakshmi closed her eyes in embarrassment hearing that.
Brinda started laughing immediately.
"-Haha!!!"
Meanwhile Suriya muttered.
"Cinema villain with children's serial disguise."
Karthi nodded seriously.
-Nod!
"That's exactly his level."
The family fell into exhausted silence again.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because deep down…
Everyone already knew the truth.
And unfortunately…
The news playing on television this morning only confirmed how terrifyingly effective Karuppu's "social awareness campaigns" could become.
Meanwhile…
Far away from Chennai family drama.
Inside the Under-19 selection camp.
The atmosphere carried an entirely different kind of pressure.
No cinema. No cameras.
No family reputation is involved.
Only cricket.
Young players from across the state gathered around the practice grounds hoping for one thing:
Selection.
The nets buzzed constantly with activity.
Fast bowlers charging in aggressively.
Batsmen trying desperately to impress.
Selectors quietly observing from shaded seating areas with notebooks in hand.
And at the center practice net—Karuppu stood ready with bat in hand.
Helmet slightly lowered.
Gloves tightened.
The moment he entered the crease, several selectors instinctively paid closer attention.
Because unlike many other boys present… Karuppu already carried a reputation formidable enough to commit for the captaincy spot in the U-19.
Not from cinema.
From cricket itself.
School tournaments he had participated.
District matches. Selection circuits.
Aggressive innings he had played at the crucial times.
Explosive finishing style of his.
Unusually mature game awareness.
The records behind him were simply too strong to ignore.
Still…
Selectors only trusted what they personally witnessed.
One of the coaches signaled the bowler.
"Start."
The first delivery came fast outside off stump.
Karuppu leaned smoothly into a cover drive.
-CRACK.
The sound echoed beautifully through the nets.
Several heads turned instantly hearing the sound which the most batsmen wants to come from their bt.
Next ball was a Short length one.
He Pulled aggressively as if he was waiting for it all this time.
Then came yorkers.
Bouncers.
Swing deliveries.
Spin.
Karuppu adapted naturally against everything.
No panic or hard in the movement. No wasted movement.
Just instinctive shot selection.
One selector quietly noted.
"Excellent balance and head postion."
Another wrote while commenting back
"Strong bottom hand he has."
Then—Karuppu played the shot that truly caught attention.
The bowler delivered toward middle-leg line.
And suddenly—
SLONG SWEEP.
A violent modern variation almost nobody at this level attempted confidently yet.
The ball soared massively over deep midwicket nets.
Several players nearby stopped watching their own practice.
Even one selector unconsciously removed his glasses briefly.
"...."
Because in that era…
Very few players used that shot effectively.
And among under-19 level? Almost unheard of.
One coach muttered softly.
"Where did he learn that?"
Meanwhile Karuppu simply adjusted his gloves casually like nothing special happened.
The batting session continued for nearly forty minutes.
By the end—Every selector already looked interested.
Then came bowling evaluation.
Karuppu switched roles immediately.
Fast right hand pacer. Natural seam movement. Good wrist position.
With the new ball, he generated beautiful swing.
With the older ball, he controlled reverse movement surprisingly well for his age.
Nothing outrageously fast.
But intelligent. Controlled.
Dangerously adaptable they could see according to the batsmen.
One batsman got beaten three consecutive deliveries before getting clean bowled.
Another edged repeatedly under pressure.
The selectors quietly exchanged glances now.
Because finding genuine all-rounders with high game intelligence at this level was rare.
And Karuppu clearly possessed natural competitive instincts.
Finally, one senior selector flipped through the evaluation sheet silently.
Under the name...
Karuppan Sivakumar
he paused briefly.
Then without hesitation—Circled the name with his pen.
One by one…
The others did the same.
Meanwhile inside the nets—Completely unaware that his selection was practically already confirmed—
Karuppu launched another slog sweep into the practice fence and grinned proudly.
-Grin
And somewhere in fate itself…
Two different worlds quietly continued pulling him toward them.
Cinema. And cricket.
After the Under-19 selection camp ended,
Karuppu finally got a small break from the madness his life had become.
For the past 30 days,
He had been constantly moving between airports, shooting spots, dance rehearsals, script readings, cricket practice, and media attention.
Even when he returned home, somebody or the other kept dragging him into family drama.
So the first thing he did after coming back to Chennai was exactly what any normal eighteen-year-old would do.
He called Darshan and Mahendran.
By evening, all three were standing outside a crowded theatre near Vadapalani with tickets in hand.
The newly released movie they had come for was:
Subramaniapuram
The theatre atmosphere itself felt alive.
The smell of popcorn mixed with cigarette smoke floated through the crowd while auto drivers shouted outside the gate.
Darshan looked at Karuppu and shook his head dramatically.
"Look at this fellow."
Mahendran immediately joined.
"Three months ago we were all roaming in school uniforms."
Darshan pointed at Karuppu.
"Now this idiot is shooting songs in foreign countries with Nayantara."
Karuppu calmly adjusted his sunglasses.
"Success changes people."
Mahendran slapped the back of his head instantly.
"Buy popcorn first, superstar."
The three entered the theatre laughing.
Inside, the crowd was loud from the beginning itself.
Whistles. Commentary.
Random people shouting dialogues before actors even spoke them.
Karuppu honestly enjoyed that more than anything.
Just sitting with friends and watching a film like before.
But as the movie progressed… All three slowly became quiet.
The rawness of the film surprised them.
The friendship between the characters.
The violence. The grounded emotions.
The way the movie looked completely different from normal commercial cinema.
Even Karuppu, who had already stepped into the industry, found himself deeply drawn into it.
Especially the performances.
There was something real about them.
Unpolished. Natural.
By interval, Darshan already looked emotionally invested.
"Machan… this movie is dangerous."
Mahendran nodded seriously while eating popcorn.
-Nod!
"The fight scenes feel too real."
Karuppu didn't reply immediately.
He kept staring at the screen thoughtfully.
Somewhere inside him, the actor side started observing things differently now.
The pauses in dialogue. The silence between scenes.
How emotions were carried without overacting.
It fascinated him.
By the climax, the entire theatre had gone silent.
When the credits finally rolled, people slowly walked out still discussing the ending loudly.
Outside the theatre, the three stood near a tea stall for a while.
Mahendran lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly.
"That director cooked something serious."
Darshan nodded his head impressed.
-Nod!
"In ten years people will still talk about this movie."
Karuppu looked back toward the theatre entrance for a moment before speaking quietly.
"That's the kind of cinema that stays."
The two looked at him.
Karuppu shrugged lightly.
"No big hero build-up. No unnecessary glamour. Just emotion."
Darshan immediately smirked.
"Aiyo1, hero sir has started analyzing cinema now."
Karuppu pointed proudly at himself.
"Professional actor."
Mahendran laughed loudly.
"-Haha!!!"
"You've not even released one movie yet."
Soon the three started arguing again while drinking tea near the roadside stall.
For a little while, things felt simple again.
Like the old days.
Later that night, after returning home, Karuppu threw himself onto his bed and finally relaxed.
But peace lasted barely ten minutes before his phone started ringing.
Hansika.
The moment he attended, her voice exploded through the speaker.
"So Chennai finally remembered you exist?"
Karuppu grinned immediately.
-Grin!
"Aiyo Hansika, cinema responsibilities are heavy."
"You didn't even call after coming back!"
"I was mentally exhausted."
"You were sleeping."
"…correct."
Hansika burst into laughter.
"-Hahaha!!!"
She had known him too long to believe his nonsense anymore.
The two kept talking casually about random things for nearly half an hour.
Mostly:
Gossip, shooting stories, cricket camp, and Hansika complaining he forgot promises again.
Before cutting the call, Karuppu asked dramatically like a helpless man.
"What gift do you want from next schedule?"
"Chocolate."
"Done."
"Imported chocolate."
"Your standards are increasing."
"Because you became hero."
After that came Akshara's call.
Unlike Hansika, she started fighting immediately.
"You came back yesterday and still didn't tell me first."
Karuppu walked toward the balcony smiling as they continued to chat.
"I'm talking now no?"
"That's not the point."
"You sound emotionally hurt."
"I AM emotionally hurt."
He laughed softly hearing her rant.
Somehow talking with them always relaxed him.
Because neither Hansika nor Akshara cared about:
his movie, industry buzz, media attention, or family name.
To them, he was still the same irritating Karuppu from childhood.
The boy who stole snacks, lied confidently, flirted shamelessly, and somehow always escaped punishment.
After teasing her for several more minutes, he finally promised.
"Okay okay, I'll bring gifts for both of you from next shooting location."
"You better."
"Otherwise?"
"We'll expose your childhood stories publicly."
Karuppu immediately became serious.
"Violence is not solution."
Akshara laughed loudly.
"-Hahaha!!!"
By the time the calls ended, it was already late night.
Karuppu lay on his bed staring at the ceiling fan slowly spinning above him.
*******************************
(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea's.
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