Stories Varied - A book of short stories

By then, as most of the tables were occupied, thinking its better she moved out, she signaled the bearer to fetch the bill. As she reached for her handbag, to pull out the wallet, she was shocked to realize that she had been carrying the damned knife as an additional baggage. Having hurriedly stuffed the scarf and all into her handbag, as she waited for the bill, she looked around to see if she was attracting attention. Sensing that the guy had his eyes still fixed on her, she got a little scary; what if, by chance, he had seen us at the CST, and would resort to blackmailing me? Cursing Sudha all again, she wondered how to sneak out of the café without being stalked by him. As luck would have it, soon he made it to the loo, and thanking nature’s call that came to her rescue, she rushed out to hire a cab to continue her journey in the tracks of the time passed by.

‘As though to prove that ‘good things don’t last forever’, destiny brought Sudha face to face with the ugly face of Trishna’s hidden agenda. When she stumbled upon Trishna’s secret closet, skeletons in their scores tumbled out to her shock. Sensing that under the guise of environmentalism, Trishna was at undermining the country’s economic well-being, she couldn’t help but juxtapose Rawat’s supreme sacrifice to uphold that. First she thought of turning into a whistleblower but aware of the long list of ‘who is who’ among Trishna’s backers, on second thought, she saw the futility of it all. Besides, she reckoned that Trishna would ensure that she is bumped off without a whimper to put a lid on it. As Sudha revealed no more, she herself thought of it no more.’

Stepping out of the cab en route, to ease her nerves, she shopped for a fag, which she puffed away in Sudha’s trail.

‘Obsessed with the idea of seeing Trishna’s end, without anyone getting wise to it, she began plotting a perfect murder, the fad of many a murderer, made more difficult by cell-phone towers and CCTV cameras. However, equal to the challenge, she planned to the tee and killed Trishna with an antique knife with which Rawat, after exhausting his ammunition, slew the fifth fidayeen, for she felt that would be symbolic of his act. Though it was prudent to destroy the murder weapon, she wanted to hold onto it as long as she lived; but what if, by any outside chance, the police were to question her and search her premises as well? So, wanting her to whisk it away to safety, using someone’s cell-phone, she made that call asking her to make it to the CST with a spare handbag.’