Mood: Into Dumbledore's Pensieve
Music: Shadow Of The Day
December 21, 2000.
It was 9pm. A little girl was crying. But she did not understand why she was supposed to cry. Her mother was unconscious, lying next to her. That was probably why. There was a small crowd in her chawl today. Most were talking in low murmuring voices. The girl clung on to her mother. She had always been told by her that if she did not eat properly she would hand her over to the cops. And today there had been lots of them in her little house.
In a high rise flat not far away, another girl was laughing merrily. Even she did not know why. She was being made to feel special today. Her mother had cried and hugged her in the evening. Her grandmother had said something about her father now resting in peace. Her aunts and uncles, neighbours, everyone from her jewelry shop had been flocking to their place since evening. Her innocence did not allow her to understand much. But she was smart to sense the happiness in the air.
Ten hours ago; Harish was preparing for his Tenth Prelims. Bored of by-hearting the names of different types of Sheeps reared in North India, he closed his Geography text. He was staring pointlessly through his room window and watching the landing airplanes disappear behind the Powai Hills. Suddenly his Libran Lethargy was broken by a sharp sound. A white Omni had stopped in front of his society main gate. A man in his early thirties jumped off it and ran towards the gate. The car sped off on the main road. Seconds later, two more vehicles entered the society. A third one traced the path of the Omni. The wail was missing but the flashing lights on top were unmistakable.
The gunshot was loud and clear. But it missed the target. The man was now trying to jump the fence and dash into the nearest building. But the specialists were too quick for him. The first hit was in the left leg. He collapsed. But his instincts told him to fight for dear life. He managed to get his revolver from his pocket but the second bullet to his right hand made his efforts futile. Now there were 7 cops surrounding him. He closed his eyes and muttered a prayer, hoping to be captured alive. But the chances were grim he knew. It had simply never happened before. Still the thought of his pregnant wife and his 4 year old daughter gave him hope. Hope, that was all he had, now that his smuggled Chinese made revolver lay far from him.
The men in casuals had already started congratulating each other on yet another success, except two of them. One was busy picking the next bullet and handing it to his superior while the latter was busy testing his aim on the fallen man. The third shot hit the helpless man fair and square on the chest. His body went into a bout of fits. He remembered his kill a month ago; the jeweler had gone into a similar state at his hands, much like the 7 others he had killed before that. The cop did not seem satisfied with his aim. Another casual selection of a bullet and another playful trigger of the gun and this time the body was stable.
It was a busy day for the otherwise peaceful colony. First the Police Commissioner inspected the scene and congratulated the cops, then the local media reporters went into a frenzy, more cops arrived for the formalities and finally the Ambulance arrived after a good two hours. Local news was already telecasting the police Inspector describe the incident. "The Chota Rajan gang member was confronted acting on a tip-off. On being asked to surrender, he fired at the police. In self defence the police fired two bullets at his legs, one of which mistakenly hit him on his chest. Immediately an ambulance was summoned and he was rushed to the nearest hospital, but he was declared dead on admission."
By 6pm all that was left was the red stain on the road encircled in white chalk. The colony folks dreaded thinking of the same path to be taken the next morning to work, the path they had been so used to travelling everyday. The marks would make them remember the cold blooded murder each time.
It was Ramzan that day. God or Destiny, whatever you believe in, had it all planned out. The cold December Rain washed off more than just the stains in everyone's mind. Astonishingly, In Mumbai, It Rained That Day..
Quick Opinion: In the year 2000, my society witnessed three encounters, all executed in the same chilling manner. Should I crib about human rights violations by the Mumbai Police..?
No. I will Never.. At the same time, I do feel sorry for the family of the killed ones, particularly the innocent children.
Sometimes Life Is Meant To Be Harsh For No Fault Of Yours..
