Guru Mast rises from his cot, looks at the three boys—Yash, Mukesh, Sameer—and smiles.
"So tell me, how did you sneak into my room without permission?"
Mukesh shoots back, "First you tell us—are you really the guru of this place? Because which guru lies on a cot, eating chips and watching TV in the name of training?"
Jagat Singh Guru laughs, then turns serious.
"You thought I was just lazing around? No-no, that's your mistake. Sometimes the mind needs peace too. I was calming my mind through the TV."
Sameer whispers in Mukesh's ear, "See, bro, looks like a comedy movie is playing. The guru got caught being lazy and is still defending himself!"
Mukesh shrugs. "His wish. We just need to know if he can train us or not."
Then, politely turning to the guru, he says, "Master, forgive us for barging in. Can you give us two months of training so we become powerful?"
The guru gives a light tap on his head.
"Two months! What are you even asking? In two months I'll just make you run and chase around here. You think you'll become powerful in two months? Impossible!"
Sameer interrupts, "Look, Guru ji, we don't want to become superheroes—just teach us a few moves and techniques, then we'll leave."
The guru waves his hand.
"I'm not teaching anyone anything. I knew some people were coming, so I'd already arranged training for them. But I didn't know you'd stay only two months. If I'd known, I wouldn't have arranged anything for you!"
Yash steps forward, folds his hands.
"Please, Guru ji, accept us. We'll complete the training. Yes, we'll stay only two months, but don't change your training for us. We'll finish it as fast as we can. Day and night hard work. Just let us stay here. We won't disappoint you."
Mukesh and Sameer chorus, "Please, Guru ji, accept us!"
The guru first turns his face away, then nods with a faint smile.
"Fine… I give in. Come, you're accepted."
Cut to the college.
Class has begun.
On every bench the same question floats—
"Yash, Mukesh, Sameer… still not here today?"
Faces full of surprise, eyes glued to the door.
Someone whispers, "Did the seniors…"
Another cuts in, "Shhh… walls have ears!"
Ma'am enters.
Attendance starts.
Roll numbers called one by one.
Yash… Mukesh… Sameer… no response.
Harshita suddenly stands.
"Ma'am, why did you skip those three names?"
Ma'am closes the register, smiles faintly.
"They've taken two months' leave."
Silence in the class.
Harshita asks again, "Ma'am, two months? You gave it?"
Ma'am shrugs.
"Not me. A note came from the principal's office. Principal's signature. I didn't ask."
The whole class holds its breath.
Everyone remembers—
Yash, Mukesh, Sameer had fought the seniors.
Did the seniors…
Class ends. Lunch break.
The moment the teacher steps out,
Yusuf and four-five goons storm in.
Yusuf roars, "Where are you, you rascals!
I stood at the gate yesterday—you never came out!
Come outside now, you won't escape today!"
Dead silence in the class.
No one moves.
Yusuf bellows again, "Can't you three hear me?
Keep acting and I'll break every bone!"
He signals his boys.
"Go, check!"
Two minutes later they return—
"Sir, they didn't come today!"
Yusuf freezes for a second,
then bursts into laughter so loud the walls shake.
"So… you're running?
How many days will you run?
You'll have to come back sometime!"
Laughing, he walks out.
Breaths return to the class.
Now everyone knows—
Yash, Mukesh, Sameer aren't coming to college
because they're scared.
The seniors did nothing.
Scene shifts to the real don of Raipur.
The entire city is under his control.
The gangster's name is Harshad, but most call him Don Harsh.
Harsh sits relaxed on a huge chair.
Fifty goons surround him.
In front stand the same ten goons Yash had thrashed mercilessly.
Broken arms, broken legs, some soaked in blood—every one in bad shape.
Yash had truly beaten them like dogs.
Only one had a light cut on his palm.
All ten start giving excuses at once.
Harsh loses his temper and shouts,
"Quiet… shut up!"
Instant silence.
Harsh calls for his gun, asks,
"Do you even know who that boy was? Where he came from?"
The one with the palm cut steps forward.
"We don't know his name, boss… just remember his face."
Harsh smiles.
"That's all you know?"
Suddenly he raises the gun and shoots the other nine on the spot.
"If you only remembered the face… what's the use of keeping the rest alive? Die!"
Only the injured one remains.
Trembling, he tells the whole truth.
"Boss… that's exactly what happened. I'm not lying."
Harsh still suspects.
"Are you lying…?"
With that, he chops off the man's hand.
The goon screams in pain,
"Boss! I'm telling the truth… not a single lie!"
Watching the cruel scene, Harsh calms down.
"Fine… now I want to see how strong that boy really is.
Can you get a sketch made of him?"
The goon shakes.
"Boss… I can describe his height, body, hairstyle… but I can't draw the face."
Harsh raises an eyebrow.
"Why not the face?"
The goon lowers his eyes.
"Sorry, boss… but whenever I try to recall that boy's face…
a devil appears in my mind, not a human."
Harsh smiles slowly.
"So that's the thing.
Go—first get the sketch made.
Find him and bring him.
If you fail…
you know your number is next."
Now we see Yash, Mukesh and Sameer
walking toward the training ground, talking.
Sameer says, "Just let us finish this training—then I'll show those seniors!"
Mukesh nods excitedly, "Right, bro, right!"
Then whispers in his ear,
"I don't know about the others… but I'm going to beat Yusuf single-handed!"
Sameer grins, slaps his shoulder, "Yes, bro…!"
Both look at Yash.
Poor Yash says nothing, just presses his lips into a smile.
In moments they reach the training ground.
The second their feet touch it, the three scatter to different corners and start practising.
Five minutes later…
A thunderous voice echoes,
"Who the hell told you you could train here?!"
Guru Jagat comes running.
Mukesh scratches his head.
"Guruji! If we don't train at the training ground, where will we?"
Guru glares.
"You idiots! First fix your bodies, then train!"
Sameer lowers his head in confusion.
"Fix our bodies… what does that mean, Guruji?"
Guru takes a deep breath and explains,
"If your body isn't perfect, training is useless.
First free your body… give it full attention.
When you see anything, you'll learn it in one glance!"
Mukesh and Sameer don't understand a word,
but Yash's eyes sparkle—he gets exactly what the guru means.
Guru continues,
"Even my body isn't perfect.
If it were, I'd master any new move in one look.
So—first focus on your body.
No one can make it perfect, but you can try."
Sameer asks eagerly, "Okay! Tell us—how to make the body perfect?"
Guru smiles, raises a finger—
"Go. Ten laps around that hill."
All three jaws drop.
Mukesh stammers, "Ten… ten laps? Can we even do it?"
"If you can't finish ten laps, same training tomorrow morning.
When you complete it… then I'll give you real training."
The sun climbs higher.
The three look at each other.
Without a word—
they start running.
First lap…
second…
Sweat in their eyes, lungs bursting.
But a faint smile plays on Yash's lips—
he knows these ten laps aren't just around the hill,
they're around the fire inside him.
And Guru stands far off, leaning on his stick, smiling.