2300 Hrs, 17 Aug 2012, Balochistan Region, Pakistan
Cold night crept into the small house. Two men sat whispering inside. There were no other houses around. The area was deserted. Of late, the Taliban had tightened its grip over the area and the lives of the people there. They could dethrone the government forces as easily as plucking a flower.
‘I can’t believe it!’ the man in the grey suit said. His well-built body seemed to shiver. He scratched behind his ears. ‘How? It’s insane!’ His eyes were sharp and focused on the man opposite him.
‘Sir…’ The middle-aged man hesitated. He was dressed shabbily, wearing faded khaki pants and a partially torn chequered shirt. He rearranged the woolen blanket, which covered him, again. He ran his fingers through his greying beard. How can I make him believe me? ‘It’s true. I got the information from a reliable source.’
‘Couldn’t he provide any evidence?’ His voice had obvious impatience.
‘I’ve asked him.’ The poor man thought for a second. ‘But it may be difficult. Everything is tightly sealed.’
‘Who are they reporting to?’ He took off his jacket. He was sweating.
‘Don’t know. I don’t know how many there are.’
‘Any hint of their name, position or anything of that sort?’
‘Mr Jack….one is called Mr. Jack.’
‘Mr Jack. I don’t have any information about the rest. I am trying to get it quickly. I’ll pass it along immediately. This Jack guy knows to play his cards.’
‘There is still hope left, sir.’ The man got up and closed the window. ‘He, Jack, has trapped others. I don’t think they know the gravity of the situation. Maybe they are not even paid properly.’
It was a badly lit room, with an incandescent lamp against one wall. The light from the lamp was so yellow that the room looked like a jaundice patient. A coir cot was placed on one side.
I’ve failed in my duty, the middle-aged man thought. I am incapable of completing the task. This was the first time he had come up with only half the picture.
The man in the suit saw him sitting dejected. He knew him very well. A very reliable and capable source. If he had failed, it meant none could succeed. However, being a perfectionist, he would not be able to pardon himself. The man in the suit wanted to cheer him up. ‘I think I can climb down the rope thrown to me…by you.’
‘It’s not a rope sir. It’s just a piece of hay. I am afraid…’ He got up and exhaled, shaking his head. He took a few steps towards the window.
‘Friend,’ the man in the suit called.
He turned around slowly. They fell silent for a few moments.
‘Nothing can stop us. We will win at any cost. The information you have given me is priceless. Believe me.’ The man in the suit clenched his fist. ‘Believe me.’
‘Goodbye friend. I’ve to…’ The man in the suit walked to the door.
I need to do something, he thought. There must be something…some clue left by them. I’ve to find them. I’ve to nail them before time runs out….
The second man accompanied him out. Then he returned to his bed and lay down once the visitor had gone. He was engrossed in his thoughts. He had offered his life for the nation. For years, he had been working in a foreign nation, for the sake of his motherland.
He had left behind his marriage in the bargain.
Marriage can wait. What is the meaning of a life, which is not of any use to society?
He was correct. He was an enlightened man. A man who knew about the meaninglessness of human life if it were not used to the hilt. He closed his eyes. Unfortunately, that was the last time.
He was murdered that night.
Nikhil lay there watching the sunlight peep through the gap between the curtains. It was six in the morning. He felt lazy and wanted to lie there, doing nothing, without any worries. Until eternity.
‘Hey Nikhil, getup,’ Rita said, shaking him. ‘Get ready. It’s already late.’
She was in a tracksuit. Due to her insistence, he had started jogging. He was ready for exercise in the evening. But according to Rita it was not as useful at that time. The early morning sunlight and the cool atmosphere do half the trick on the body.
However, he could not agree with her. He tried to object. ‘What is the difference between morning and evening!’
‘A lot. By evening the earth is so hot, we will be tired before we start working out.’
He got up and walked to the bathroom. ‘I am coming. Don’t make my brain hot.’
‘That’s it, my boy.’ She rubbed his head. She checked her athletic body, of which she was proud, in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her curly hair. I should straighten it.
Nikhil brushed, staring into the mirror. A young man tired of life stared back. The dark circles beneath his eyes made him look weak. My life sucks.
Mahatma Gandhi Park was full of health conscious people. They ran, jogged, joined laughter clubs and did everything that could burn the extra fat accumulated by merely sitting and eating. They expected these activities to bless them with longer life. After all this, they marched to KFC, McDonald’s, Dominos, Pizza Hut and all the multi nationals serving junk food.
The cycle of eating and exercising continued.
‘Come home early,’ Rita said, as Nikhil was getting ready for work. ‘Today is Dr.Kishor’s house warming party. I hope you remember.’
Nikhil thought for a second. ‘What is the use of remembering?’ he asked. ‘I won’t be able to come before nine at least.’ He thought about the tough day ahead at work. A nuclear scientist’s life could never be planned out. It seemed as if it were a normal job to an outsider. Or a job of great fascination, great passion. But inside, it was a whirlpool filled with boiling water.
Escape from it, Nikhil realized, is a farfetched dream.
‘Can’t you talk to your boss?’
‘Ha ha ha.’ Nikhil laughed. ‘No use.’
‘Great father’s great son!’ she mocked.
She is correct, Nikhil thought. He was a graduate in Nuclear Physics from IISc. Many foreign-based multinational companies had sought him out. They had offered him lakhs of rupees as pay package. It was his father, who had compelled him to take the job in DRDO. His father was so patriotic that he regretted being born in free India. I could not do my bit for the nation, he used to say while he was alive. I haven’t done anything for the freedom I am enjoying. He took up farming. It was his way of serving the nation.
Nikhil could not resign from the job even after his father’s death. His conscience didn’t allow him to. He did not want to insult his dead father’s memory, his soul.
He looked up at the sky. For how long have I not seen the beauty of the world. It would be night by the time he came home from his office. He thought about the pending work even during his early morning jogs. He never remembered to watch the world around him.
Hawks loitered in the clear sky. Their eyes must be focussing on earth, searching for prey. How free they are, and how focused. Free to be themselves!
He started his silver Fiat Palio. The car stereo came alive. Show me the meaning of being lonely, the Backstreet Boys sang.
The office hours went by at the speed of light. It was seven p.m. when he completed a part of his tasks. His tiredness increased on seeing the pending work. His boss was still in his cabin.
‘Sir, I have an important appointment today,’ he told him.
‘Nikhil, I hope you understand the gravity of the research you are involved in,’ the boss said, looking up from his computer. ‘We have to move it on, ASAP. Our nation’s pride is in our hands…’
‘Sir…’ Nikhil interjected. He could not count how many times he had listened to the same, worn out, words. His boss was reminding Nikhil his father. ‘I am trying my level best. Every day I go home with my headlights on.’
‘I don’t understand,’ his boss said, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
‘By the time I leave from here it is very late. I’ve to switch the headlights on,’ Nikhil said smiling.
His boss also smiled. ‘You may go.’ He turned back to his computer screen.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Nikhil opened the door.
‘For today only,’ the boss said, as Nikhil was walking out.
Same job, same days and same sentence. The boredom inside Nikhil amplified.
The party at Dr Kishor’s was boring, as usual. I’ve my father’s genes. Nikhil enjoyed sitting in office more than engaging in meaningless talk with his colleagues at parties. He disliked (to put it correctly, hated) fake smiles and promises. It seemed that most people enjoyed that, even Rita. She could pretend joy in interacting with people. But back home, he had to suffer for it. She would spit out her frustrations on the way back home. Most of the time it continued even after they went to bed. Of late, Nikhil had decided to use sleeping pills on those days.
Jaya says she is twenty-eight. Who is she making a fool of…?
Did you see what Namrata was wearing? Half her breast was out….
Rose and family are going to Kashmir next week. She is saying it’s her second honeymoon. Hope she will not return in a coffin….
Tara is thinking of presenting her husband with a newly fixed hymen on his birthday. It is the latest trend in the west. She did not say how she is going to treat her secret lovers on their birthdays…
She would not stop until he slept.
Nikhil had replies for each of those. But he would listen to her silently. He was not ready to risk his whole night’s sleep.
Jaya is TWENTY-EIGHT. Why do you doubt that?
What a beautiful pair of breasts Namrata has. Oh God!
I also wanted to go to Kashmir, but you had spoiled my plan.
Do you know when my birthday is?
His father would visit him in his dreams. He would whisper in Nikhil’s ears. Two different personalities. Born and brought up in different places, in different styles, with different views. You have to adjust to prevent the marriage from crashing. That was the advice he had given a day before Nikhil’s marriage with Rita. But the problem was that Nikhil was the only person who seemed to be adjusting.
‘Hey Nikhil, sunk in thought?’ someone asked him.
Raj was a well-built man of Nikhil’s age. He had curly hair and a handsome face. It was a well-known fact that many of the women at the party had a secret crush on him. They expressed their interest jokingly. But he neglected them and was faithful to his wife, Aruna.
Nikhil and Raj were part of the same project. And Raj was the only person with whom Nikhil could speak his heart.
‘Thank god you are here.’ Nikhil smiled. He looked at the golden liquid in Raj’s glass, ‘Whiskey?’
‘Yes. Enjoying the night with Kaala Kutta.’ Raj laughed. He took a sip from Black Dog. ‘Cheers.’ He raised his glass.
‘You are in high spirits,’ Nikhil said.
‘Of course.’ Raj lit a cigarette. ‘I am enjoying the party and am in love with the people around me.’
Nikhil sipped his water. He was hoping the party would end quickly and was counting each minute in his mind. Given a chance, he would have gone somewhere else, most probably to a park or beach. And he would have contemplated the serene beauty of nature. But how could he, he had to save his marriage.
‘How couldn’t I be,’ Raj laughed. ‘I am reaffirmed during such occasions that I can also complete my house soon. ’
Nikhil laughed, ‘Oh, that’s great. So, are you planning a grand party?’
‘Not a big one, a modest one.’ Raj thought for a second or two. ‘Marriage and construction of a house requires blessings from the Almighty. Both cannot happen even if we have everything except, his approval.’
‘That’s correct.’ Nikhil looked at his wife. ‘He decides our companions for life also.’
‘Yes. The one we have to carry on our shoulders all life long,’ Raj agreed.
It was unlike Raj. He never gave an opinion on such subjects. He either kept silent or disagreed straightaway. Nikhil looked at him questioningly.
‘Don’t misunderstand.’ Raj shook his head. ‘It was a generic opinion.’
‘Have you observed one thing?’ Nikhil asked, thinking. ‘The job has infiltrated our brains so much that we converse in official language.’
‘We should start using fuck, dick, suck, pissed off, etcetera more often.’ Raj laughed. The Dog had loosened his nerves.
The party ended at twelve. Still many were not ready to go home. They wanted to continue drinking and boasting. But they had to leave, as the next day was a working day. Abusing their bosses, cursing their fates, they got into their respective vehicles and drove off.
Rita was silent on their way back. Nikhil sighed in relief. At least I can sleep peacefully today. He thanked god.
Hiding in the sky, the Almighty laughed at him. Silly humans, how wrong their thoughts are!
‘Shall we go?’ the woman asked, coming closer to Nikhil. She walked as though floating on air.
Nikhil could not answer, and only stared at her. Had it not been for her fragrance, he would have considered it a dream. Why else would such a lovely girl talk to a stranger like him so sweetly? He stood mesmerised by her beauty. Her long hair fell on her face in the evening breeze. Her lips were pink, without any trace of lipsticks. He stared at her for some time, to have her face stamped on his heart.
Is she talking to me? He answered, looking around. ‘Do you know me?’
‘I am Nina.’ She extended her right hand. Her fingers were long and manicured. Her transparent nail polish shone. ‘And you are Nikhil, nuclear physicist, working at DRDO.’
He didn’t waste a second in grabbing her ultra-soft palm.
‘I do not remember meeting you!’ It was a yell, inadvertently, which he regretted the next moment.
‘Congratulations, on completing four happy years of marriage,’ she said. She still wore the smile. It had not reduced a bit. Dimples appeared on both her cheeks, amplifying her beauty.
It was the seventh of May, Nikhil’s wedding anniversary. That was the reason for his early return from office. He had stopped at “Flora” to buy a bouquet. He had been browsing the array of bouquets. She was in another aisle that contained costlier arrangements.
He could see her each movement from the corner of his eye. But, unsatisfied with that, he had turned his head to look at her repeatedly in the pretence of checking the bouquets. He understood that she had noticed this when she walked towards him.
How would I know she saw me staring?
‘Shall we go?’ she asked.
Her question startled him. ‘Where are you inviting me?’
‘I stay in 42, four houses ahead of you.’
‘I thought you had completed your shopping. Haven’t you selected anything?’
‘I am confused,’ he said, trying to regain his stability. I can say that I was hoping that she would help me. ‘I am unable to select a bouquet for Rita. Could you please help me?’
‘Even after four years together.’ She pretended to surprise, and then chuckled.
Beautiful. Nikhil gulped.
‘This one is ideal.’ She controlled her laugh and picked up a bouquet made of pink and red roses.
“Rose Rupture.” He read the name. ‘Beautiful!’ he exclaimed looking at her rather than the bouquet. ‘Good selection.’
‘Shall we?’ Paying for the bouquet, he invited her to his car.
They walked together to his car. Her car had broken down on the way and she had had to call the mechanics to tow the vehicle to a workshop. She got into the front seat of Nikhil’s car. The fragrance of her perfume filled the car.
‘You were staring at me,’ she said, in a serious tone, putting on her seat belt.
Nikhil tried to concentrate on driving. ‘I did not stare.’
She laughed. ‘We can see everything without turning our heads. Our bodies and senses are developed in that way.’
‘If we look at a boy he will misconstrue it as love and might start following us. The Indian mentality no?’
Are you not Indian? he asked inwardly.
‘So we are forced to avoid doing that. It becomes part of us as we grow older.’
‘You are too beautiful for me to avoid looking at you,’ Nikhil said. ‘If anyone doesn’t notice that, he should be blind.’
‘My hus is not blind.’ She laughed again.
She was beautiful and she knew it. But listening to it said repeatedly made her ecstatic. On the other hand, Nikhil knew that he was flirting.
What is the problem if she is enjoying it?....
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