Murder is not a crime. How can it be? It is the best way to save
someone from the hell called earth. I am not doing any crime, the man thought staring at the couple on bed.
The room was chilled. They lay cuddled on the king-size
bed. A woollen sheet covered the lower portion of their body.
Above that, they were naked. His head was resting on her
perfectly carved bosom.
Pale streaks of light from the table lamp, kept at right
corner, spread across the room. That ensured participation of
all the senses in the game called sex. He had to wait for about
two hours outside, for their game to finish.
How peaceful is his world, the man, who entered the room
through the window, thought. Every pleasure of this world would
be at his doorstep in the blink of an eye.
He recognised the girl. Of course, he had seen many of
her movies. He admired her acting. More than that, her ease
in rendering any role entrusted was worth lauding. She was
always a perfectionist.
She must be the same in this field too. Perfect.
The man walked towards them. He felt for the revolver on
his waist. Yes, it’s there. He was there to kill the male. He could
do it without waking him up. But he was not ready to do that.
He wanted him to get up.
I want you to see me. Ask me who I am.
There was no movement about them. He must be savouring
the softness of her flesh. The man went closer. He pulled a chair
and sat down. He took out the revolver, a locally made one.
None of the guns made by me has ever failed. But there is no
guarantee. There are incidents where the barrel explodes and causes injury, sometimes death, to the user, the seller, an old bandit, had cautioned him.
‘Once only it will be used,’ he said to him. ‘Not more.’
‘Then there is no problem. I can guarantee that,’ the bandit said.
He lifted both his legs and kept it on top of the bed. He
remained in the position for about half an hour. The target was
in front of his eyes. Anytime, I can decide his fate. A cool breeze
passed through his heart.
It was the girl, who woke up first. She cried at once seeing
the stranger at the foot of the bed. Her voice echoed in the
silence around. She pushed the companion aside and jumped
down from the bed.
‘Sit there,’ he said, as she was about to run. She sat covering
her nakedness with both her hands. The hands shivered
uncontrollably. ‘I am not here to kill you.’
Her partner opened his eyes slowly. The stranger in their
room shocked him equally. He looked at the girl. Then turned
towards him.
‘Who are you?’ he asked grinding his teeth. ‘Who the hell?’
‘Chant Mrityunjaya mantra and pray for your peaceful
death,’ the assassin said pointing his revolver at him. The
actress closed her eyes tight afraid of the murder she was about
to witness.
‘Has he paid you?’ he asked her.
She did not respond. But opened her eyes and stared at the
man. She gulped. Nervous she was, sure that the man would
kill her too.
‘If not, take it from him now.’ He leaned back authoritatively.
‘Dead people don’t pay.’
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