The odds were all against her. Sangeeta was holding the revolver in her hand. She did not have license to it. They had trained her on how to use it. The deal was simple. She would kill. And if she got away with it good for her. If she did not, bad for her. But if she did not do it at all! too bad for her. Because they were holding her hostage.
Did you hear it right? She was being held hostage and she was the one with the gun! Well it did not add up, did it? That was the trick in this game too. If it did not make sense no one would get to the bottom of it.
In politics it happens everyday. And they always get away with it. Everyone needs proof of allegiance and this meant making yourself vulnerable. And in politics they say this is the most reliable way to make yourself vulnerable. Commit a crime and don't get caught. That clue goes in the file of the party high command and stays there. In that moment you became eligible to grow in the ranks. Simple, isn't it? There is no allegiance bigger than the allegiance of crime! She was told that it was for a good cause. All her dreams to serve her country were held hostage. "What is one crime?" She reasoned "One teeny-weeny crime, as long as you get away." This was not a siege, they explained, pushing towards her, pictures of the Parliament Bomb Blast and 26/11 siege; these are unpardonable. Killing someone.!.. that depended who you killed! Simple.
"Why the revolver?" She queried. "Why not the poison. Or maybe suffocating the target to death. How about gassing the target."
"No, No and No," they said, their hollow laughter sending a chill into her. It was important that the high command had evidence, strong enough to hold her accountable. Usually some smart alecks get away with the crime and leave no evidence, this creates a passe, they can neither deny the person nor offer a decent post in the party. "It is now a policy," they explained... "for the candidate to have an unlicensed gun. Even if you do not leave enough evidence at least the party will have something on you. If nothing we can ruin your career!"
She could feel the sweat building up on her temple. Her palms getting sweaty as she rubbed them on her jacket. She had worn one with an inside pocket. This was suggested to her so she could carry a small revolver without being noticed.
She had driven alone for the meeting, just to be extra careful. Her driver a Middle aged fatherly man, often her confidante, asked too many questions. She liked it because ever since she joined politics, she had spent weeks at a stretch cooped up in her car for long hours, traveling constituency to constituency, helping candidates campaign. It helped to have someone to talk to, generally.
She now needed a target. Her life had always been about success and now that she was so close to being offered some serious action in the party, she would not let it go for one meaningless life, she reasoned. Not everyone in this planet has the same right to live. For example her school teacher! The one who sexually abused the teens to give them the question papers! And that warden of the orphanage where she grew up... He had no business beating them up like animals for smallest of mistakes. That was the time she had decided to do something for people. She still remembered that she chose to fail rather than be abused sexually. That was the day she understood that she had a higher calling.
But here was the challenge. "You cannot kill someone with whom you have known enmity." There goes her school teacher and the warden. "You cannot kill a stranger, very difficult to prove if needed..." There goes millions of people who can very well be let go of, because she just didn't know them and therefore didn't worry whether they lived or died. "You have to kill someone you know and are in reasonably good terms with." So that it is not easy for police to prove your involvement but it will be easy to prove if needed. "And lastly you cannot kill a family member... blood is thicker than water, we have seen members lose their composure after killing their family."
Did they have a written manual or they had just memorised it all, Sangeeta wondered. Now with the revolver in her possession, she was informed that someone would be following her, She would never know who but her every action would be watched. "We have party members even amongst the beggars," they warned. "So don't try to dodge, and certainly don't outsource. We will know. And in that case we may take drastic measures"
She knew only a handful of people who she was close to. She had no family and she did not have many close friends. She did have many friends, but they were mostly transactional, nothing personal. She had a spotless life till then. Likeable, reliable and goal oriented. That was the reason she had come to the notice of the party high command.
She had no idea where she would find her victim. She made a mental list of people she could target. Her house help, her driver, her boy friend... boyfriend would become ugly. Her business associate? Too obvious. And then she remembered... her driver was into gambling. Every week he needed advance of some kind to go and gamble. His weakness. He was a perfect target. But he was also her true confidante.
She decided she will not to waste time thinking. She would just get done with it. Consider him a soldier. The nation needs me and I need him to lose his life for the nation.
She planned it meticulously. She would give him a leave for a week, maybe make a trip to someplace. She would get a rundown car from some garage in the other town. Drive back in the car to the town, kill, and drive back to the resort. The police would call her, once they discovered about the death. The plan was so simple and fool proof that she was literally convinced she would get away with it.
And so she did, a one week trip to a nearby resort. Taking a brake before the upcoming elections. She found the car in the village in a garage. The guy practically gave it to her for free. He said, "The engine is perfect, but drive it very very slow." The body may have been in the junkyard rusting for centuries.
It was the slowest 100 km drive back to her city. She was happy the drive was slow, because she wanted the time to unravel. Kamal's house it was a little too silent. She peeped from a window. He was sitting on the bed, hands held up, to her disbelief!
She had thought, he did not know she was even in the town. For him to wait hands-up was a little too much to grapple. Just then she noticed the other man, his back was facing the window. He was pointing a gun at Kamal. She had the aim at the man. Now she wondered who to shoot? Kamal? or the Assailant? As she tried to solve this abnormal puzzle she heard a gunshot. The driver was still on the bed, sitting straight, he had not been shot, it was only a threatening shot. And then the roof crumbled. The house fell like a sand castle, not repaired for long, the vibration of the gunshot and the bullet hitting the ceiling did the job. In the scuffle, she realised she had hit a bullet too. She had no time to find out who she hit. She ran to her car, it was easy because everyone was rushing to the scene of disturbance, they did not know it was also a scene of crime.
She jumped on to the driver's seat, but it was great to have a slow onward journey, but she needed a faster locomotive now. She dumped the car in a garbage yard, walked to the nearest bus stop and boarded one to get back. Covering her head with her scarf so she would not be recognised. She reached back to the resort, only to be told that there were several calls for her. She had switched off her mobile to avoid being tracked. She realised she had no alibi. If anything, there were enough evidence to prove she was nowhere close to the resort when the incident took place. A whole busload of people. And then she got the worst shock of her life. She had stashed the revolver in the glove compartment of her rundown car. With her fingerprints all over it. She did not ask who had called. She dialled back the number that was left by the caller. The person at the other end said, Madam, Kamal, your driver, has passed away.
She did not know why the person sounded familiar. She chose to ignore that. She guessed maybe all men in Kamal's neighbourhood sounded the same. She booked a coach to get back home, to mourn Kamal's death. And lo and behold, her ramshackle car stood right at the porch. She only barely managed to get into the house when a heavily bearded man came out to greet her. He took her suitcase and motioned her in. Once in the drawing room, Kamal said, Madam, I hope you will understand why I am faking my death... I am in debt. The other day a man came to kill me and got crushed under my roof by accident. I managed to run out of the place. And then by chance I found this car in a junk yard and a revolver too. I took it and left the place. I am going back to the village. It has been great working for you madam, but the time has come for me to go... there is only one thing left to do... Kamal picked up the gun and Sangeeta lost a beat.
Kamal said, "Madam, I don't know what to do with this revolver. I don't want to be caught with it. Please keep it and give it to the police. Make up some story and just get rid of it."
Holding the revolver, Sangeeta aimed it towards Kamal as he walked out of the house... She wondered if this constituted qualification for some action in the party.
Did you hear it right? She was being held hostage and she was the one with the gun! Well it did not add up, did it? That was the trick in this game too. If it did not make sense no one would get to the bottom of it.
In politics it happens everyday. And they always get away with it. Everyone needs proof of allegiance and this meant making yourself vulnerable. And in politics they say this is the most reliable way to make yourself vulnerable. Commit a crime and don't get caught. That clue goes in the file of the party high command and stays there. In that moment you became eligible to grow in the ranks. Simple, isn't it? There is no allegiance bigger than the allegiance of crime! She was told that it was for a good cause. All her dreams to serve her country were held hostage. "What is one crime?" She reasoned "One teeny-weeny crime, as long as you get away." This was not a siege, they explained, pushing towards her, pictures of the Parliament Bomb Blast and 26/11 siege; these are unpardonable. Killing someone.!.. that depended who you killed! Simple.
"Why the revolver?" She queried. "Why not the poison. Or maybe suffocating the target to death. How about gassing the target."
"No, No and No," they said, their hollow laughter sending a chill into her. It was important that the high command had evidence, strong enough to hold her accountable. Usually some smart alecks get away with the crime and leave no evidence, this creates a passe, they can neither deny the person nor offer a decent post in the party. "It is now a policy," they explained... "for the candidate to have an unlicensed gun. Even if you do not leave enough evidence at least the party will have something on you. If nothing we can ruin your career!"
She could feel the sweat building up on her temple. Her palms getting sweaty as she rubbed them on her jacket. She had worn one with an inside pocket. This was suggested to her so she could carry a small revolver without being noticed.
She had driven alone for the meeting, just to be extra careful. Her driver a Middle aged fatherly man, often her confidante, asked too many questions. She liked it because ever since she joined politics, she had spent weeks at a stretch cooped up in her car for long hours, traveling constituency to constituency, helping candidates campaign. It helped to have someone to talk to, generally.
She now needed a target. Her life had always been about success and now that she was so close to being offered some serious action in the party, she would not let it go for one meaningless life, she reasoned. Not everyone in this planet has the same right to live. For example her school teacher! The one who sexually abused the teens to give them the question papers! And that warden of the orphanage where she grew up... He had no business beating them up like animals for smallest of mistakes. That was the time she had decided to do something for people. She still remembered that she chose to fail rather than be abused sexually. That was the day she understood that she had a higher calling.
But here was the challenge. "You cannot kill someone with whom you have known enmity." There goes her school teacher and the warden. "You cannot kill a stranger, very difficult to prove if needed..." There goes millions of people who can very well be let go of, because she just didn't know them and therefore didn't worry whether they lived or died. "You have to kill someone you know and are in reasonably good terms with." So that it is not easy for police to prove your involvement but it will be easy to prove if needed. "And lastly you cannot kill a family member... blood is thicker than water, we have seen members lose their composure after killing their family."
Did they have a written manual or they had just memorised it all, Sangeeta wondered. Now with the revolver in her possession, she was informed that someone would be following her, She would never know who but her every action would be watched. "We have party members even amongst the beggars," they warned. "So don't try to dodge, and certainly don't outsource. We will know. And in that case we may take drastic measures"
She knew only a handful of people who she was close to. She had no family and she did not have many close friends. She did have many friends, but they were mostly transactional, nothing personal. She had a spotless life till then. Likeable, reliable and goal oriented. That was the reason she had come to the notice of the party high command.
She had no idea where she would find her victim. She made a mental list of people she could target. Her house help, her driver, her boy friend... boyfriend would become ugly. Her business associate? Too obvious. And then she remembered... her driver was into gambling. Every week he needed advance of some kind to go and gamble. His weakness. He was a perfect target. But he was also her true confidante.
She decided she will not to waste time thinking. She would just get done with it. Consider him a soldier. The nation needs me and I need him to lose his life for the nation.
She planned it meticulously. She would give him a leave for a week, maybe make a trip to someplace. She would get a rundown car from some garage in the other town. Drive back in the car to the town, kill, and drive back to the resort. The police would call her, once they discovered about the death. The plan was so simple and fool proof that she was literally convinced she would get away with it.
And so she did, a one week trip to a nearby resort. Taking a brake before the upcoming elections. She found the car in the village in a garage. The guy practically gave it to her for free. He said, "The engine is perfect, but drive it very very slow." The body may have been in the junkyard rusting for centuries.
It was the slowest 100 km drive back to her city. She was happy the drive was slow, because she wanted the time to unravel. Kamal's house it was a little too silent. She peeped from a window. He was sitting on the bed, hands held up, to her disbelief!
She had thought, he did not know she was even in the town. For him to wait hands-up was a little too much to grapple. Just then she noticed the other man, his back was facing the window. He was pointing a gun at Kamal. She had the aim at the man. Now she wondered who to shoot? Kamal? or the Assailant? As she tried to solve this abnormal puzzle she heard a gunshot. The driver was still on the bed, sitting straight, he had not been shot, it was only a threatening shot. And then the roof crumbled. The house fell like a sand castle, not repaired for long, the vibration of the gunshot and the bullet hitting the ceiling did the job. In the scuffle, she realised she had hit a bullet too. She had no time to find out who she hit. She ran to her car, it was easy because everyone was rushing to the scene of disturbance, they did not know it was also a scene of crime.
She jumped on to the driver's seat, but it was great to have a slow onward journey, but she needed a faster locomotive now. She dumped the car in a garbage yard, walked to the nearest bus stop and boarded one to get back. Covering her head with her scarf so she would not be recognised. She reached back to the resort, only to be told that there were several calls for her. She had switched off her mobile to avoid being tracked. She realised she had no alibi. If anything, there were enough evidence to prove she was nowhere close to the resort when the incident took place. A whole busload of people. And then she got the worst shock of her life. She had stashed the revolver in the glove compartment of her rundown car. With her fingerprints all over it. She did not ask who had called. She dialled back the number that was left by the caller. The person at the other end said, Madam, Kamal, your driver, has passed away.
She did not know why the person sounded familiar. She chose to ignore that. She guessed maybe all men in Kamal's neighbourhood sounded the same. She booked a coach to get back home, to mourn Kamal's death. And lo and behold, her ramshackle car stood right at the porch. She only barely managed to get into the house when a heavily bearded man came out to greet her. He took her suitcase and motioned her in. Once in the drawing room, Kamal said, Madam, I hope you will understand why I am faking my death... I am in debt. The other day a man came to kill me and got crushed under my roof by accident. I managed to run out of the place. And then by chance I found this car in a junk yard and a revolver too. I took it and left the place. I am going back to the village. It has been great working for you madam, but the time has come for me to go... there is only one thing left to do... Kamal picked up the gun and Sangeeta lost a beat.
Kamal said, "Madam, I don't know what to do with this revolver. I don't want to be caught with it. Please keep it and give it to the police. Make up some story and just get rid of it."
Holding the revolver, Sangeeta aimed it towards Kamal as he walked out of the house... She wondered if this constituted qualification for some action in the party.
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