Aarushi murder case- A media circus-1

It has been two days since there has been a controversy on the cricket field. While the nation got gripped with the who dunnit in the Aarushi murder case, TRP of every other program went down. Every minute there was a new update on the channels .Some were catching hold of her friends , the others wanted to know what the maid saw. It was surprising that nobody listened to what the maid was saying. The question for how long she had been working in the Talwar house hold was asked at least 10 times by different persons. They believed by asking this they would be able to conclude something about the police theory. It was a disappointment , that the maid had been there for just a week. Something was to be said ,and for everything that the maid answered “ I don't know” , a Sikh gentleman deduced some flaws in the police theory. I switched my over worked remote to another channel.

New flash –

Dr. Talwar is not the real father, Aarushi's mother married him after the death of her first husband.

Damn .I thought ,so this was the reason for her murder. Dr. Talwar was not the real father. Every channel waited for the police conference to happen .

Dr. Talwar along with his wife and Dr. Durrani had been arrested. (So much so for the monsters. Damn high society people, I thought. )

Police finds the murder weapon, Dr. Talwar admits to crime.



A lot was being expected here by the news channels. They wanted the police to admit to everything they had said whole afternoon. Who doesn't like to say “ Look , we told you first.” The police however had other plans. They didn't give any genuine sound bytes ,either due to lack of evidence or to protect the same. However , the murder that had been already been solved by the members of the media ,who had got information through “ Sources in police” suddenly forgot whatever they had been shouting throughout the afternoon.

I was about to doze off , when the police conference started. A Sikh gentleman who is the IG of police Meerut range entered a conference hall teaming with journalists. He started to speak, but was interrupted with “ We can't hear you” from the journalists. He became interested in getting a mike. Finally after a delay of five or so minutes , he began. He seemed confused and mixed up the deceased name , the press had a field day. While he spoke he contradicted himself a couple of times . Questions were thrown at him. He decided not to answer. A poor case study being presented , in which everybody was involved with everybody in an intimate relation ship. It seemed the police top cops had mixed up a Karan Johar movie with a murder mystery.

What jerk offs. The police under pressure had done , what I was thinking will do, from day one. They had made a murderer out of a father , who was still mourning his daughters death. No other person had been arrested . No murder weapon had been found . The IG police explaining in details how it could have been hidden ,thrown or given to some one,after a journalist pestered him about the inefficiency of the police in not being able to find a scalaple in Noida . This person probably had belonged to the news channel flashing the information on the murder weapon.The media immediately retracted from all the statements it had made up till now .So all the information like -

Dr. Talwar wasn't the real father.....

Dr. Durrani arrested along with Dr. Nupur.........

Murder weapon being found........etc were back tracked on. With the new theory in place all the channels now wanted to prove the truth in what the police was saying. After all it was the IG of the state police.

News Flash- Aarushi was seen in a compromising position with Hem raj when Dr. Talwar saw them and in a fit of rage he murdered them. ( I wondered if I was deaf or had misunderstood the IG police. All he had said was Aarushi was close to Hem raj , which her father didn't like.) Fondness with somebody does not mean that a person was involved physically. The kind of sketches the channel showed brought a bad taste in my mouth. I ordered my remote again to take me , where there was some sanity.

The remote followed my instruction but took me to a even weirder channel. There was a video going on with the reporter telling us that the girl in the picture and the one in the video are the same. I thought it was some home video shot by her parents , and the channel was showing it ,in remembrance of Aarushi. I stared at both the pics. They didn't look the same. The girl in the video was no way Aarushi. I had seen enough of her till now. The video began . The girl was changing and the reported with urgency in his voice was trying to convince the audience , it was indeed Aarushi. The video became still , when she started unbuttoning her shirt. Damn these reporters , I thought. “Hem raj was blackmailing the family because he had this video. This was found on Hem raj's mobile that the police had found earlier during the day”. The reporter claimed. Damn Damn Damn. I was shocked . To what extent media can go to get some eye balls. They hadn't even bothered to listen, to what the IG had said. He had mentioned that no phones or weapons had been found yet. The idiots ( I would like to use the “F” word here.) had got a sleazy video from some sick mentality person ( who must be also a reporter) and were defaming a fourteen year old girl with out even checking on the facts.



I couldn't believe my eyes. Not only they had not understood what the IG had said, but were going to full extent to prove , what the police had said. No stone was to be left unturned. I coaxed my remote to take me to Cartoon Network. Watching Tom and Jerry made more sense then watching a fourteen year girl's chastity being abused by these news hounds.



Half an hour later , I was back . The channels were repeating the same old news showing old videos of Dr. Talwar crying , with the news reader making taunts on his actions. His tears are called crocodile tears and his actions a cover up. I switched the Television off.



Day 2-

I switched on my television to find Dr. Nupur sitting in one of the Studios. She looked sad at the turn of the events. Dr. Talwar is in custody . Dr. Durrani has denied all the allegations and its Aarushi's birthday today. May god bless your soul. The media is still trying to find the killer , only now they are trying to prove Dr. Talwar's innocence . Is it a birthday gift for Aarushi. The family driver has spoken up. He says, he kept the mattress on the roof and the police had asked him to wash the room. The driver might had said all this a couple of days back, even yesterday .The media was too busy, proving then , that Dr. Talwar was the monster , who had killed his daughter. Titles like “Killer Papa and and My father My killer .” have been replaced with “ Is Dr. Talwar innocent.” Damn these news channels. Can't even get the right person. Two different channels are showing two different people as drivers of the Talwar family. What a circus.



It does not matter whether Dr. Talwar killed his daughter or not , anymore. The harm has already been done. In this world of fast food news , while the media pressurized the police to nab the killer , they forgot that the crime scene evidence should not be disturbed. Hoards of reporters were seen roaming around the roof ,the day , body of Hem raj was found. If the police had missed out the killer, when they found Aarushi's body , they would never be able to do so because the media now , surely wanted to find the killer themselves. After all the police had failed to find Hem raj corpse on day one. They forgot that they had also been around for the last two days there , but had failed to be Sherlock Holmes themselves. It was a retired police officer who saw the blood stains and later found the body on the terrace.



Today media has become such a force , that they think they can do anything. A team of ten or twelve policemen on the crime scene couldn't have possibly stopped fifty or sixty of these so called investigative reporters , from barging on the roof ,taking pictures and in the bargain destroying evidence. Didn't they realize that they were destroying the very evidence , that could have helped the police nab the killer. When the police didn't find any evidence , they worked on circumstantial evidence and found Dr. Talwar guilty. The media rejoiced , and then the victim's mother and Dr. Durrani spoke to the same media, the media booed the police. Every thing that the media had proved yesterday by showing videos and having interviews with experts is again being backtracked . Now the police is the victim. They want to prove everything the police said is wrong. Interviews with drivers , maids and neighbors are been conducted on a war basis. “What kind a man was Dr. Talwar .” Question like these are being asked to every one who might have come in contact with him during his entire life. It does not matter if the person say , he met him for just two minutes. “But you can still tell us what kind a man was he” . All in the quest of grabbing a few measly points on the TRP rating game.



It won't be surprising that tomorrow some thing new will happen ( Noida being prone to criminal activities.), or some Two year kid will fall in to a ditch , and the same media will rush to the crime scene to destroy evidence and pressurize police to either save or catch the criminal. Things will slowly go back to normal in the L-35 sector of Noida. A small news clip will one day ,tell us if Dr. Talwar was convicted or released , with a picture of Aarushi. We will either rejoice or feel sad about the judgment.

Life will go back to normal for us . The only two people , who will face it for the rest of their lives will be Dr. Talwar and his Wife. After all, haven't we all seen it before. When D-5 ,Nithari in Noida had made it into the lime light, one morning and had kept the nation glued for a couple of days to their TV sets. Nobody still knows whether the Sikh ( I forget his name) owner of the house , was actually involved in the killings or not. It was the media that proved him guilty and the police just followed them.



Note- I haven't named any TV channels here , because I am not trying to prove the inefficiency of any one particular channel here. I am speaking about the incompetency and Coldness of the entire media when treating a death. For them I believe Aarushi has just become a means to get more eyeballs which in turn equates in to a better advertisement revenue. After all Indians love emotions , the better you play on them ,the better attention you get.

Aarushi murder case -A media circus-2

Somebody must educate the Indian police with a lot of things. This was the messiest investigation I ever saw on television. I blame the media badgering to a large extent. It put too much pressure on the police and the limelight was disturbing to say the least. It was disturbing to me as a viewer to have to see the same thing over and over and again and again and that too the first thing in the headlines as if this was the only thing happening in the country. I can well imagine how it must’ve been more than a bit of harassment for the Noida police to have the media around them like a potential noose that can turn into a knot any instant. Having said that, the police were at their unethical best as usual.
Do the Noida police or whoever has been doing these investigations know the definition of “honor killing”? Honor killing is a very patriarchal convention committed usually against a woman - a wife, daughter or a sister in highly charged social contexts like in a village or tribe for example where you’ve to show that you’re a man by murdering the person that violated your honor. You may have strong personal feelings of love for your wife, daughter or sister but you won’t let that come in the way of your honor which is connected to the group you belong to. That’s what it means.
In the case of Arushi’s murder there is no “honor” involved. She is just too damn young and there is no lover or boyfriend and no social context here. The police theory about the father’s affair and the daughter knowing it and the closeness with the servant and the father being upset – it sounds embarrassing close to a C-grade Bollywood movie that probably bankrupted the director and producer and left the actors without any work for the rest of their lives. Assuming the police are right, the motive is jealousy or intense possessiveness that drove the father into an insane rage that killed the daughter and the servant who dared to appropriate the father’s favorite possession. How does that make it a “honor killing?”
Even more unconvincing is the mother who seems non-existent in all of this drama. It’s like she is a brick or a stone or something worse – an alien from another planet bereft of any human feelings or a robot completely at the mercy of a remote control in the hands of the husband. From her interview on NDTV it did not seem that she was without any personality. But to the misogynistic police her non-existence was perfectly in tune with what they assume had happened.
In the movie “Witness for the Prosecution” based on Agatha Christie’s short story and play, Sir Wilfrid Robarts, the brilliant criminal lawyer, fighting on behalf of Leonard Vole, a criminal accused of the murder of a rich older woman, remains unconvinced with the neatness of the evidence that leads to the verdict of “not guilty”. As in art so in life. That’s the problem with the Arushi murder case. Everything is too cut and dry. Too simple and too obvious. I sincerely think the media should leave the police alone with their investigations even if it takes months or years. What in effect the media is doing is forcing the police to come up with results. As far as I can see such pressure is going to have disastrous consequences as it has already done and somebody innocent might have to pay a bitter price for it. In this case it could be the grief-stricken father of the child. The police have not only killed his honor and said terrible things about the child but might end up doing worse which is to send the man to prison or the gallows without really having discovered the truth.
Listening to the police was torture. Unscientific and sloppy apart, the arrogance was stunning. It looks like they were the invisible spectators to the murder who suddenly decided to become visible. With their limited evidence the police indulged in speculation that even Hercule Poirot and Sherlock Holmes would not dare embark upon. One thing a serious cop or detective would never do is assume or arrive at conclusions based on assumptions. Assumptions produce more assumptions but not necessarily the truth. The police made enough assumptions in this case to make all the episodes of a flop TV series. Far from honor the murder has all the ingredients of revenge killing. “Revenge is a kind of wild justice” says Francis Bacon. In my view as an avid reader of detective novels such cold-bloodedness with which the servant and the young girl were murdered is possible where revenge is the motive. The role of the servant is far from minimal though what the police were insinuating about something going on between the young girl and the middle-aged man is rubbish. This is assumption and speculation.
What is terrible is that the tragedy of the double murder of the young girl and the servant is for sale. That’s what is terrible. Sex and lies appeal to basic instincts of viewers. The media and the police are part of this sale. This is how it is with the American media. Everything is an event and nothing is beyond sale. I was a student in 1995 during the O.J. Simpson murder trial. I’ve never seen anything sicker in my life. Just that people don’t matter as human beings. In a deeply racist nation even the truth is black and white. The worst part is the indoctrinated viewer – the average American – gorging media lies as if it were the absolute truth. If there are countless other reasons why I would never live in the United States the media is definitely one of them. That’s the direction we seem to be going these days

The Ghost of Chaura Gaon

It was a cold dark winter night , Raju had been paddling his Avon cycle furiously on the mud path that led to his village. Although the weather was chilly , he was sweating partially because of the exercise and partially because of fear. The mud path that led to the village ,only a couple of nights before, had claimed its twenty first victim. The man had died under mysterious circumstances, his body found in a shocked state. His eyes were open with fear and it was rumored that this path was haunted.



Raju who was twenty years of age ,was a strong man, and did not believe in ghosts. He used to take the same path every day , morning and evening to go to the city where he delivered milk and later worked at a dairy on monthly wages. He was married ,when he was sixteen and the village priest had predicted , that he may face mortal danger at the age of twenty. Raju's mother who was a pious lady had paid the pundit 200 Rs to perform a puja for Raju's safety.



With time ,every body forgot ,what the soothsayer had said except for his wife. Every day she would pray for his safety, as his journey to the city was fraught with danger. First it was the highway with trucks carelessly meandering , and then it was the wild animals who often found their way in to the village ,from the adjoining wild life sanctuary. Now it was the path. Ever since mysterious deaths had started to occur , people had been very afraid and even the bada sahib , who had visited the village with the police had seemed helpless.

A police PCR was placed near the entrance of the path way, but in time ,this had been removed after the truck drivers complaint of police harassment on the highway. The press seemed to come often to the village but it was more so to question the family of the victim. “How do you feel that your father is no more.”was a question that most of the houses in the village had answered in the last one year.

Now the recurrence of the event had become so often , that media didn't seem to care anymore. What was once a front page news had become a page seven news item. It would generally read “ Another victim found in similar conditions on the chaura gaon mud path. The name of the victim is XYZ who is survived by his wife , son or daughter. The police are investigating.”



Raju felt goosebumps. The village was still a few kilometers away ,and it being a moonless night , it was becoming impossible to ride fast and keep on track. One wrong turn could lead him in to the wild life sanctuary and it would be impossible for him to find a way from there. He shivered as a drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. The villagers had established a village Patrol but they kept to the entry of the path , and their job was to stop anybody ,from venturing on to the path at night, rather than protect people on the path. At seven everybody would close shutters and run back home only to lock themselves.

People have a short memory and once no incident occurred for a short duration , they would return to the path, inevitably to find someone dead. The police would come and do the panchnama. A few investigative journalist would come and question the laxity of the police. At first , it was said there was a man eater in the vicinity, but later, when no bodies were found half eaten, the possibility was ruled out. There were quite a few theories of serial killers, ghosts and some other animal. No one was sure and the panchayat had decided , it was best to stay indoors , till it was found out who was behind the murders .



Raju was now approaching the spot where all the bodies had been found . It was a banyan tree that had been around for a couple of centuries at least. With roots hanging like snakes in the entire area , the place would look eerie even during the day. There was a grave under the tree. Although it read of a English soldier who had died of cholera in 1903 , rumor was that he was beheaded by the village ancestors when he had fallen in love with a village girl. They had tried to elope but were caught. His head was cut and hung on the banyan tree, while the girl was tied to the trunk. She had died of hunger and thirst while looking at the severed head of her british lover. The English government had however caught all the culprits and had given them a similar fate . They all were hung from the same banyan tree .The girl and her lover were buried under the tree and although the grave stone of the soldier had survived , Some body had stolen that of the girl that a smaller in size, to use as a peg to tie the cows. Raju knew the story and he knew who had stolen it . After all it was him. He had his eyes on the peg for a long time and one day he had managed to get the marble out. It had taken him a day to file of all the writing, and when his wife had asked him where he had got it from, he had coolly told her to mind her own business. It was a strange coincidence that all the murders had started to occur , the day after he had dislodged the stone.



People had been found dead in the same spot and nobody had been able to trace the cause of death. Every one had strange markings on there necks with banyan skin . Some conspiracy theorist said that it was the tree that would come alive every moonless night . Others said it was the ghost of the girl who had risen from the dead after her grave stone was stolen. She had come back to avenge the death of her lover. A strange coincidence was that all the men had been killed in a similar manner and in the same spot on a moonless night. They also had a similar height. Around six feet. Raju stood at six one.



Raju reached the spot and suddenly felt something around his neck . He was pulled off his bicycle and fell to ground . His eyes were wide open , his neck had snapped .He was dead. In the morning a passer by found his body lay spread eagled on the ground. He had rushed to the village to tell every one of Raju's demise.



A few days had passed since Raju has died. The police had come and gone. The reporters once again had flocked the village. The village pundit had performed a puja for his souls release. It was time for him to go back to the banyan tree to perform his puja. He reached the spot , and saw the root hanging once again in front of the prayer stone. He grumbled and lifted the roots to tie them to the branch that extended over the mud path. It was high enough for any passer by ,not to get entangled, and hurt himself. The trap was set. He had wanted to cut the troubling growth but couldn't as his religion didn't allow.



He sat down to pray. A passer by on the cycle ducked his head as he approached the loop. “ Pundit ji I hope the last of the victims has been claimed. I found out in the morning ,it was Raju ,who had dislodged the grave stone and now he has faced the consequences.” Pundit ji smiled and said I hope so as he looked at Rs. Five hundred that he had got to perform the puja. All he had to wait for was another moonless night.

Relationships@love

“I want to go and watch the match, but things have not been in my favor. I got my exam tomorrow and its an important paper.” Romil said on the phone. Romil was twenty six years old and was engaged to be married soon to Siddhartha who was an ardent fan of the firewalls. A team playing in the Indian Paisa league.
“ Well , I would have loved you to come .It would have given us time to bond.” He answered. Siddhartha had been lately observing that Romil, who initially had shown much interest in the prospect of getting married to him had started to slowly grow away from him. They had met around four years back during one of the cricket matches held at Feroze Shah Kotla stadium in Delhi. It was their common interest in the 20-20 format that had brought them closer . Siddhartha had been writing blogs on the league and Romil was an avid reader. It was through this blogging site they had become friends and later had decided to tie the knot.

Romil who stood at five feet six inches was a beautiful girl. Although she was not a model lookalike she sure grabbed attention from passers by . It was this aspect that had made Siddhartha insecure in the beginning but later he had learned to live with the fact. Lately he had been behaving quite possessive about Romil and Romil who was very cosmopolitan, had really not liked this. She had been quick to show her resentment but Siddhartha had not really understood her. A degree from JNU and preparation for the civil services examination had kept her busy throughout the year and with the preliminary examination right around the corner she had been really busy. Siddhartha on the other hand had been following his game and writing blogs. Romil who was also working at an advertising agency had found it difficult to take out time for Siddhartha from her work schedule and now their meetings had been limited to one hour on Sundays .

Siddhartha was a handsome guy, thirty one years of age. With strong shoulders and a flat stomach ,he once had the desire to become a model but had not really succeeded in Bollywood and ultimately he moved to Delhi . Having a Diploma in Hotel management he had no option but to work for a five star hotel as a food and beverage manager. He was a suave , diplomatic person who had climbed the ladder of the Hotel hierarchy rather quickly. Although he wasn't paid as much as Romil , money had never been an issue between the two. It was an understanding that whenever they met Romil would foot the bill and Siddhartha was always happy about it since he never had enough money to pay for those extravagant dinners.

There had been times when Romil had attended parties at his hotel ,where he had been serving but they both had managed to look beyond the odd situation. Romil's parents who were both doctors in the armed forces were initially apprehensive about the match had later agreed and they were engaged to be married once Romil was free from writing the Civil services examination.

“ I know Siddhartha that lately I haven't been able to spare much time for you , but you should understand . My job is demanding and then the examinations tomorrow.” she answered.
“ I think you are just trying to avoid me. Are you having an affair ?” Siddhartha had suddenly lost his cool. He had been begging Romil to come for the last half an hour and she had not agreed.
“ How can you even say that. You know I love you .” Romil could only whisper as tears welled up in her eyes.
“ Because I have been trying to persuade you for the last half an hour . It is as if we need you to become a civil servant.” Siddhartha was spiting fire now. “ So you don't want me to join the IAS.” Romil said.
“ Look I am really angry at the moment and would rather talk to you later about this.” Siddhartha who always took a diplomatic stance , once he had no answer replied and kept the phone down.
Romil hugged her pillow and two large tears moistened her eyes. Things were different four years back. When they had first met Siddhartha was a fun loving jovial person, who had a dream in his eyes. A dream that anybody would have believed to be true . Time had taken its toll on his good looks and shear lack of money had made him insensitive. He had been treating Romil to this kind of behavior for quite some time now, but, she had only considered it to be a passing phase.

She had been wrong and Siddhartha had further lost it. He was now becoming a demon and Romil for the first time had started thinking about calling off the marriage. It wasn't that late. The cards hadn't been printed and only a few people knew of her engagement. She fell asleep with a book in her hand. Tomorrow was a big day .

Siddhartha entered the Feroze Shah Kotla stadium and took his seat in the 200 Rs circle. That was all he could afford . He was pissed off at Romil and when the security hadn't allowed him to carry the drinking water bottle inside , he had finished it in one gulp. Now he desperately was in need of going to the loo but it was out of the question. There was no place he could go and all he could do was to sit tight for the next three hours and wait for the game to end.
The game was between the Delhi Firewalls and a team from Kolkata . It was considered to be a close finish game with both the teams showing great promise at the league. However today his mind was not in the game, but was thinking about Romil. When he had first met Romil , She had just done her degree. A sweet girl, he had fallen instantly for her . They had planned a future together. He promising her the stars ,once he got that big Bollywood break. Things had changed since then and while Romil had become relatively successful, Siddhartha could never get what he wanted. This now had started to take its toll on their relationship. He was now not really sure he wanted to marry her as he knew that Romil sooner or later would make him feel like an incompetent.

He had been trying hard for quite sometime now to make Romil quit on him but her love for him had kept this relationship going. He smiled as he thought that it was just a matter of time before she realised that he had changed. A sixer had been hit and the crowds went ecstatic. He smiled as he moved in his seat to release the blood in his buttocks that had become numb sitting on the concrete make shift benches. His mind wandered back, in to the past ,when he had met Romil for the first time . They had decided to meet at the overhead walkway at ITO . He had worn a smart looking muscle shirt that showed his rippling biceps while Romil had worn a salwar kurta. He had been waiting for half an hour and looked at every girl passing by in anticipation. While he rejected the ugly ones thinking of what reasons to give if one of them turned out to be her , he had been drawing mental pictures of her ever since they had decided on this date. Exactly four years had passed and Romil had not remembered the day they had met.

He had seen her climbing the steps of the walkway and had prayed so hard to God that it had to be her , that god had listened to him and to his joy , the girl had turned out to be Romil. When Romil walked up to him and had asked “ Are you Siddhartha ?” all he could utter was “ yeah.” It was love at first sight and when Romil had mentioned that she had been watching him waiting for the last half an hour wondering if it really was him. He had admitted that it was the first time God had answered his prayers.
Once the initial euphoria of good looks had died down , they both had discovered each other and had found each other to be compassionate about common things . They both had a jest of life. She never wanted to work and looked for a loving partner and had agreed that good looking girls need to be pampered and not sent to work in some office.
They had been so busy talking that they had completely forgotten about the match and had felt the pain going their separate ways once it had ended since she lived in Rohini and he at Sarita Vihar. Siddhartha had kept a mobile phone then but the problem was she didn't have one . It was only that after reaching her home she had immediately called him up and they had spoken for hours until his phone battery had died down.

The next day they had met again and this became a routine . While Siddhartha visited various movie houses during the day in search of work , she attended college where she had enrolled for her masters in journalism. They would meet at a popular coffee shop in the evening and share their days events , after which ,Siddhartha would drop Romil at the Metro station on his bullet.

These meetings had continued until they were spotted ,one day by Romil's parents who had happened to pass that way and had followed Romil hugging Siddhartha on his bike to the Metro station. As soon as Siddhartha had parked outside the station, Romil's father had steered the car in front of them and had asked Romil to get in.
Siddhartha who had been obsessed with movies had wondered what a hero would do in such a situation .Should he say something or just let Romil go. The problem with reel life and real life is that in reel life things are understood and they end after three hours. The result of a fight is predetermined and it is the hero who gets the girl in the end. In real life anything is possible as there is no script to fall back on to. Siddhartha decided against doing anything silly for two reasons. One was that the cops were around and her father was in uniform. Secondly Romil had just winked at him and said “ See you tomorrow.”

She had met him as she had promised and told him what had happened the previous day. Romil's parents had actually been greatly impressed with his personality and had been quite happy discussing him ,until they had asked about his profession. A struggling actor was not something they had desired for their beautiful daughter. Romil had solved the equation by telling them that she was only going to get married to Siddhartha if he got a good break and besides that they were just friends. Romil's father had agreed to this and things seemed to working for the first time in their favor.

Siddhartha who had been struggling for quite sometime in desperation started to opt for extra rolls and this also spelled doom for his big movie star dreams . Nobody entertained an extra artist . The fear of loosing Romil didn't allow him to move base to Mumbai and he worked as an extra artist on a lot of projects earning a few measly thousands to keep the fires burning in his house. It was when Romil completed her Post graduation and got a job as an advertising manager for a big firm,he was able to do a few advertisements but Romil couldn't have helped him forever and it was soon discovered that he had never had the knack for acting. How ever Romil conned her parents in to believing that the so called big break was just round the the corner . Romil and Siddhartha were engaged that summer with the cricket league entering in to the third season. Romil's father was however a smart chap and had only agreed to this liaison on the condition that the wedding would take place only after a year.

This had worked against them ever since Siddhartha had started loosing what ever acting talent he had which was his rippling biceps. The inner wear advertisements that he had featured in were being dominated by the younger male models who it seemed were pumping iron round the clock.
Out of desperation he had taken up the first job that had come his was and in year had been promoted as a food and beverage manager because of his good looks and charm. He had finally discovered his real talent. It was the food service industry and not acting. The only problem was that Romil's father had not been really happy about these turn of events . He wanted to call off the wedding but when Romil intervened , he had back stepped. He now only hoped what he had told Romil's mother would come true.
“ I hope she understands that Siddhartha is not the right guy for her. He is good looking and everything but to live a good life ,you need money . He doesn't have it and neither he can ever earn so much as to provide a decent living. Our daughter is going to grow old before she even knows it.” He had said.
Another six had been hit . The innings was about to end .Firewalls had scored a decent total of 169/5 . Siddhartha was brought back in to the present .He hadn't moved since he had taken up his seat .He had not been watching the match and the last one hour had been like a beautiful dream where he was back being with the only person ,he cared for in the whole wide world.
He got up and asked a stadium attendant about the restrooms . He guided through the crowd only to find a lot of people waiting to use the facility. Since he was in no mood to wait , he walked towards the exit. He relieved himself on the stadium wall. He could only do this in India . A smile crossed his face. He wondered if he should call Romil and wish her luck for the next day but then restrained himself to sending a SMS .
He had received five missed calls by the time he reached home. Romil had been trying to reach him. He wondered if he should call her back and as his finger twiddled with the keypad ,he switched his phone off. He was still angry with her for being successful , for not remembering the day of their anniversary. For being so inconsiderate .

Romil had remembered the day and had been waiting all day to wish him. Only she wanted to know if he had remembered it . When she got the message ,she thought it was time to let go of her ego and wish him happy anniversary but he hadn't picked up the phone. Now that she was awake she picked up a book in search of some last minute preparation but her mind was elsewhere. Had he remembered.?Was he just playing hard to get after all these years ? Had he gone to watch the game alone? She wanted to talk to him. But his phone was not reachable now. She punched the keyboard of her mobile to type “sorry darling and happy anniversary.” ,but then she pressed the exit button instead of send. Her ego had once again taken over her. She picked up the guide and went through the questions . She was prepared. It was two in the morning. She walked in to the balcony .Once she had found him standing their at this ungodly hour waiting to get a glimpse. She wondered if he was there today. Two street dogs were fighting over a piece of bread and their growls were only interrupted by the shrill whistles of the colony gatekeeper. She stood there watching them till one of them gave up . The winner running away with the trophy. It was time to sleep. Tomorrow she had to get up at seven to reach the UPSC examination center . Although her father had agreed to drop her off, she had just hoped that maybe Siddhartha would pick her up .
She yawned and tried one last time to call Siddhartha up. “The number you are trying to reach is either switched off or out of coverage area.” The recorded message kept repeating itself in different languages. Romil sighed and went inside . She tried to sleep but sleep eluded her .She finally fell asleep at three in the morning.

Chapter Two

The next day came and went . Romil got up early in the morning and was ready for the big day she had been preparing for since the last one year. Although she thought of not going ,but then decided against it. Romil's father dropped her at the examination center and as expected the paper went well. Romil had found everything she had studied in the last one year had finally paid off and she was confident of getting through the written examination. When she walked out of the center she found her father waiting and although they had decided in the morning that she would manage her way back. He had showed up.
“How was the paper ?” He asked .
“ It went well .” She answered tired of stressing her brain in the quest of finding the right words for the answers. “ I wanted to discuss Siddhartha with you .” Her father said . “ What about him?”
“ You have not been lately the cheerful self that you used to be. At first I thought it was the examination stress but lately I have realised that it is something else. You can tell me Beta.” he said.
“ Its nothing Pa , Its just that he has been acting strange lately ,getting angry on small things. Where did I go wrong , I dont understand.” Romil tried to stop the tears that once again had started to flood her eyes. Her father kept quite for a long time as he drove the car .
Mr .Kumar Romil's father was a man of short stature . He wore spectacles and sported a bush mustache. He looked the part of an armed force officer but his eyes that were full of compassion gave him away. He had only one daughter and had wished the best for her. He had always stood by her decisions and when the question of marrying Siddhartha has risen, he had agreed to it against his better judgment. All he had said was “Beta, it is your decision but since I dont want you to regret it later , I wish you wait till he becomes successful.” Romil had agreed to this request but not before she had got engaged to him. This also meant that her father now had to agree to the arrangement and they had the permission to go around freely without any fear of being caught. Siddhartha's parents had been more than happy at this proposal and had agreed immediately.
“ Its because he hasn't achieved what he wanted to and now that he has comprised with the situation,he is jealous of your success. A man who has to live on his wife's income becomes depressed and thinks that she is his biggest enemy.” He said after much thought.
“ May be you are right , but Siddhartha would turn in to such kind of a person. It is impossible to think.” Romil had let go of her tears and as they rolled over her dimpled cheeks , she hugged her father who had parked the car on the side so he could talk to Romil.
“ It isn't late. We can call it off if you want. I dont want my daughter to be sad and besides in case you are selected then this problem is going to increase.” Mr . Kumar said as he consoled his daughter.
“ I want to give it one last try.” Romil said as she wiped her tears.
“Ok.” Mr. Kumar said as he put the car in the first gear .

That evening Romil tried calling Siddhartha but was greeted with the same recorded message. Maybe he is busy . She thought. At twelve in the night she finally gave up .She wondered where he was ? Her question was answered the next day when a courier arrived. It had contained a ring and a letter. It read
“ Dear Romil,
I had been thinking a lot about where our relationship is headed for. In the end I found out it was going nowhere. I will never be able to fulfill your father's wishes and may never earn as much as you do. Now that you are going to become an IAS officer. The problem between us will only become worse. I have always loved you and this decision is not easy for me but I guess it is in the best interest for both of us. I wish you all the success in life . I am sending you back the ring which you so lovingly selected for me. You can keep the ring , I gave you as a remembrance of all the times we had together. I have already told my parents that I am not going to marry you now but work on my career. Maybe someday I will become successful but then I know you won't be there waiting for me. I don't want you to keep on waiting for me ,so please go ahead and marry someone who can take good care of you.
Goodbye.
Love
Siddhartha
Ps- I am Sorry for everything.”

Romil read the letter once and then she read it twice. It was inevitable and she had seen it coming . She had tried so hard not to believe it but knew within her heart ,it had to happen. The way things were going between them it was a matter of time before she would have written a similar letter to him. In a way she felt relieved .This relationship was taking its toll on her mental health . She required it for her final Interview. She read the letter again and then kept it with all the other gifts and letters that Siddhartha had given her. They were not precious but to her they were important. She locked the box and pushed it beneath her bed. Tears had once again filled her eyes but these were tears of relief. She was finally out of the relationship that was causing her so much pain.
A few months went by and Romil got busy with her studies. If the preliminary examination was a cake walk for her , the Mains paper to her was even simpler. Romil topped the IAS and was given the branch of her choice. Romil joined the IFS or the Indian Foreign Services.
While there were celebrations in Romil's house ,Siddhartha read the news of her selection in a local newspaper. He was happy .He took out his phone to call her. To congratulate her but then he decided against it. What was he going to say? Would she think that now she had become successful , he wanted her back. He kept the phone back.
Romil was soon to join the training academy and after the initial euphoria and phone calls of well wishers died down, she collapsed on her bed. All that she had wanted in life was to get married to Siddhartha . She had often prayed to God to fulfill her desire. To make Siddhartha a successful man and instead God had bestowed her with all that . Romil took out her phone and searched for his number. Her fingers rested on the connect button. “ Should I call him and tell him.” She thought. Then she decided against it . “ He is only going to think I am making him jealous.” Her phone rang . She wondered if it was Siddhartha. It was her Maternal grand mother.
“ Mubarak ho, You have done the family proud.” She heard the shrill voice of her grand ma.
“ Thanks Nani , Its all because of your blessings.” Romil answered.
Her Nani kept on talking about her for the next half an hour which had included the topic of her marriage and all she had said was “ I 'll see.” “ Its too early.” “ I got to go next month.” Small interjections to complete the conversation.

Romil kept the phone down. She wasn't feeling very happy . Something was amiss. It had almost been eight months since her engagement with Siddhartha was broken off and although she had faced it bravely ,she often wondered what went wrong. She would often take out the letter that had accompanied the ring but could never bring herself to accept the fact that the letter was real and he was not coming back. Romil took a train to join the Lal Bahadur Shastri Academy to train for the IFS,her eyes searching the platform for Siddhartha.

Siddhartha kick started his bullet and after wading through the traffic reached home. He had been thinking about his relationship all this time . He missed having an accident a couple of times as his mind was stuck on Romil. What should I do? How do I end this problem? Were questions ,that were screwing his brain. He had left the match in between and switched off his mobile after seeing the five missed calls from Romil. He knew that he was never going to make it big and if Romil was to become a civil servant , he would hate her whole of her life ,for being more successful. It wasn't that he was jealous in the beginning but time and shattered dreams had made him the way he was.
He switched on the fourteen inch television in his room and saw the score. Firewalls were on their way to victory. A comfortable win. He sat on his desk and took out a pen and paper. “I should say sorry to her in the old fashioned way.” he thought. He started to write and in the end he had called off the engagement. He read the letter . He felt light . He took off the ring. He felt lighter. He put the ring and the letter in an envelop and sealed it.
That night he couldn't sleep and wondered if he should change his mind if Romil even sent one message saying sorry or if she remembered their anniversary. He had forgotten completely that his phone was switched off.
The next morning he got up only to find that he had switched it off the previous night. “Maybe she sent a message.” He quickly switched on his mobile phone. No messages. Siddhartha suddenly lost his temper . He wore his track suit pants and rode out to the courier service company.

The next day he changed his mobile number. He was afraid that Romil was definitely going to ask him why he had broken up with her. To his surprise she didn't call him.
“I was right , she's one egoistic girl. Go to hell , I dont care.” He thought.
He quit his job and changed his residence for the fear of being traced by Romil , however in the back of his mind he thought that maybe he should leave something for her to trace. What if she comes looking for him. Big boys dont cry and here he was ,tears rolling from his eyes as he packed his bags to move to Mumbai. It was time to pursue a dream. Maybe he would get the success there that had eluded him for so long.

Siddhartha saw a familiar face across the platform. It was Mr. Kumar. This could mean that Romil might be there too. He saw her boarding the train to Dehradun. Romil was still as good looking as she always was. Only something was missing . There was a sadness around her. Her eyes seemed to search for someone. Could she be looking for him. He wondered. It was impossible for her to see him sitting in that second class coupe and it was just sheer luck that he had spotted Mr. Kumar. He had read about her selection and it was then he had decided that he should give his dream one last try. As the train slowly moved away from the platform , Siddhartha knew that he was never going to see Romil again. Tears started to roll out of his eyes. It was too late for him to change anything that had conspired. He closed his eyes and went to sleep as soon as the train gathered speed.

Chapter Three
Siddhartha got down from the bus .It had been raining since evening and the road from Mumbai to Goa was a disaster . With torrential rains having caused havoc on the road, It was an extremely bumpy ride.The bus now ,had halted midway somewhere at a shady roadside restaurant,which had no idea what a dinner menu should look like.
The only dishes on the menu were some oil soaked Pakoras. He bought a plate and immediately regreted it as they were tasteless and looked as if they had been warming the shelf for a couple of days. It wasn't that Siddhartha was taking this trip for the first time. He had been to goa before but this time it was different. Till now it had been only drinking trips. With cheap liquor being served at every hotel , it was a drunkards paradise . It was different this time. He was moving to Goa bag and baggage. He had just secured a job with a buiding group run by his old employer and after a brief stint of unemployment was happy to finally secure a job.

It was raining heavily and since visibilty was extremely low ,the bus had snailed to the half way mark in nearly twelve hours. This had left cramps in his feet and all he wanted now was to reach Goa and hit the bed. Being off season however had its advantages. He had got the ticket cheap ( at half price) and wasn't worried about rfinding accomodation. Firstly because he was promised one as part of his package and secondaly even if he had to stay in a hotel , they were cheap during this season.

He looked at his fellow travellers. They all were middle aged goan who were mainly in to some kind of buisness that took them to Mumbai in this ungodly season. His love affair had failed and hs decision to leave his previous job had left him with no money . All he looked forward was to work very hard and become an eligible match for Romil.

He remebered the journey he had made from Delhi to Mumbai a couple of years back and had seen Romil on the platform. Did she get married or was she still single. He wondered.
“Can I have a light” he was brought back in to the present. “Yeah , sure” He answered as he flicked open his Zippo . A lighter that Romil had gifted him a few years back when they were very much together.
“Thanks” the intruder said .Siddhartha not wanting to start a conversation moved away as he tried to eat another pakora. It was an effort to slide those down his throat and he wondered if he should throw the pakoras away. The bus driver seemed to be in no hurry to carry on with the journey as the rains started to come down even heavier. He disposed of the plate and lit a cigerette. A dog immediately appeared from now where and started devouring the rain soaked Pakoras.As the acrid smoke filled his lungs , he concluded that Romil must have married by now and gave a sigh.

Romil had been staring out of the window for quite some time . Professionally successful she had always wondered what happened to Siddhartha. Where was he now. Did he get married or was he still moving around in search of his dreams. She did not knew but she had often wished that may be one day he would come back. Only now it was too late. She had been married for a year and although her husband was a caring man, had mostly been away since he belonged to a different cadre and was posted in a different state. The only time they met was during holidays, which were mostly spent discussing state politics rather then family matters. She had agreed to this match after much pursuasion from her father and had immediately regreted her decision. What if Siddhartha came back in to her life. What was she going to do then.
“ Madam , coffee.” Ram singh her orderly had brought in a steaming cup of coffee. “thank you” She said absentmindedly. “ Sahib called up. You were in a meeting and he asked me to give you the message to call him back.” He said as he bowed down a little. He had come to like his lady boss because of her sheer mannerism. Most of his previous employers didn't even acknoledge his presence.
“ Ok , get me the phone.” She said and then realising that it was lying next to her picked it up. She dialled Siddhartha's number and then realising her mistake dialled Sandeep's number.It wasn't the first time she had made this mistake. She had often done it purposely and once when somebody had picked it up , she had realised that his number had long been changed. It was just for sheer memory reasons that she had still kept the number although she didn't try it so often.
“ Hello, darling I am coming this weekend. Hope you are free.” Sandeep was on the line. “ Yes” she answered . “Well its done then , I will be reaching by the nine o clock train. Send the car.” He said in a cheerful voice. Sandeep was a strongly built man. An IPS officer by profession, he looked smart in uniform. The naxal area that he was posted in was dangerous but ever since he had joined , crime rate had come down drastically. This meant that he had made a few enemies but then it was all a part of his job.

The bus had started to move and with the rains stopped , the driver was in a hurry to cover up for the lost time. This meant the ride got even bumpier and Siddhartha had to hold on to his seat tight ,so that he was not thrown of the seat in to the passage way. It was only after a few of the passenger objected ,that the bus driver slowed the bus down.
“ I didn't think that the league matches will become so popular.” The person siting next to him said. Siddhartha was taken aback. It was the same person who had asked for light and there was no way he could avoid talking to him this time. Till now he had pretended to be asleep but the bumps on the road now made even acting an impossible task.
“Yes, I remember the first season. I was a big fan then of the Delhi Firewalls. Haven't been following the game since.” He thought that this would bring this conversation to an end but his fellow passenger was in no mood to let him go. “Yeah , the first season was great, there was an interest then . Now the only thing people are inerested in is knowing the score and who won. It was also the season of most Controversies. It was a classic masala for a bolly wood film.By the way , I am Victor Dsouza.” “Hello, I am Siddhartha.” He answered . Victor was a man in his forties and with tanned skin , smelled of fish curry and rice. He wore thick specs and with I Love Goa printed on his t-shirt looked like a tourist. His smoked stained teeth indicated that he was heavy in to smoking but went along well with his personality. Victor must have been a handsome man in his youth but his balding head and pot belly now made him look atleast ten year over age.
“ So going to Goa for the first time” He inquired. “ No , have been there before, this time I am moving there for work.” Shelving out this information ,Siddhartha immediately regreted it . Local goans have a habit of asking too many questions. Victor kept on asking him questions and when he had come to know that Siddhartha was going for a construction company , he had given him a long lecture on how these companies from out side were coming in to Goa and spoiling the eco-system. Siddhartha once had to agree with what Victor said. He had felt the same way but then it was important to earn money then care for the fragile eco- system that Victor had been talking about.

“ The bus it seems wont reach today” He said trying desperately to change the topic. He had been feeling quite guilty for telling Victor about his job and wondered why Victor was so deadly against it. After all the more people who settle in Goa meant a better economy.
“ Oh , it will . You know my brother god a princely sum for his land near Vagator and I have a land on the opposite side of the road. The builder s making a multistoried building there and now the view of the sea is blocked. This had brought the cost of land to an all time low” Victor said. So this was the reason why he was annoyed.Siddhartha thought.
“ Maybe you should make a hotel there , all the residents of that building need to eat anyways.” He suggested. “ I have a hotel there , but eversince the construction started ,nobody seems to come in because of all the dust. Last two seasons have really been bad.” Victor said in a sad tone.
Siddhartha now understood the economics of money. While somebody who had sold his land was having a lavish life, here was a man who was trying to make a decent living through hard work but wasn't being paid for it. He felt sad for Victor and then he thought he needed a place to stay as his accomodation wasn't ready yet. “ Do you have rooms.” He asked “Yeah” “I will be needing one on my arrival and I am going to stay for long , so if you are interested I can take one of the rooms ononly that I will be paying you after a month , when the salary comes.” Victor looked at him. He knew that finding guests for his rest house in this season was impossible and it would be a stupid decision to let Siddhartha go . There were five hundred rest houses on that strech, each one empty and looking for customers.
“ How much do you charge.” Siddhartha asked. “ I will give it to you for hundred rupees a day.” Victor said and the deal was struck.
The bus now entered Panjim and and Victor and Siddhartha took a cab to Jasota Inn. It had stopped raining and the sun was out, but snce Siddhartha had a lot of luggage he had prefered a taxi and Victor had accompanied him. The room had a damp smell,it being locked for almost one season now. Atleast there was no water leakage from the roof unlike his house in Mumbai where rains meant water seaping from the roof all the time.
Siddhartha being extremely tired fell to sleep as soon as Victor changed the bedsheets. He had to go and meet his bosses tommorow but that could wait now. He felt lonely and dreamt that he had become a big movie star , had married Romil and was a happy Successful man.

Siddhartha joined his new company the very next day. The construction was in the initial stage. Since it was raining heavily in Goa , the only work he was to care of, was administration. This meant he had to get licenses done. Get telephones in order. Get the old make shift house on the construction site deem fit to operate as a office ,while the construction was in progress. He hated it all but had no where to go. He could take his time to settle down, with bosses coming once a week and money handed over for expenses, It was an ideal situation to explore Goa.

Siddhartha got a motorbike from the company ,as his job had involved running around the city from office to office. Initially he felt reluctant ,as he did not have a license ,but then ,he soon realized ,that in Goa the only people who got caught were the tourists. He felt confident .Wearing a helmet was his license proving that he was one of the local fish.

Victor who initially tried to be friendly , now was busy with his other business which was of exporting local goan handicrafts. This took him to Mumbai fortnightly and Siddhartha would be left alone with Mrs. Dsouza who didn't seem to acknowledge his presence and would go around the Inn in her night garments. At first Siddhartha had felt odd about this but then he had realized that in Goa nobody cared. You could go about in your underpants if you wished to, although conservatives would eye you with disgust.
Every day Siddhartha would reach office at around 9.30 am ,where he would be alloted work by the project manager. Be it going to a licensing office or getting material for the repair of the old house. It was a boring job and Siddhartha used to wait for 5.30 pm to strike, so he could get out . He now had ample amount of time to think over his life. He would often sit in the balcony of Jasota Inn with a couple of beers and stare in to oblivion . At 8.30 Pm he would walk in to a local vegetarian food joint and order food. It was a daily affair for him.
Two months had passed and things had been routine. The first phase of the construction work had started. The construction site that was situated out of town ,near a jungle was surrounded by a village called Goa Velha. The people of Goa Velha were a suspicious lot and the land where the construction was happening had once belonged to a notorious mafia from Mumbai.
The situation was alike both in the government offices and local community centers from where Siddhartha had to seek permission for various licenses. The people of Goa Velha looked at all the development as an invasion of there privacy and with construction machines working over time , what once used to be a peaceful neighborhood had now turned in to a circus. With land filling taking place round the clock, trucks of different shapes and sizes would inevitably get stuck in the swamp and cranes had to be called at all odd hours to get them out.
Life was now dirt and grit for him. He was working hard and after a brief stint in the hotel industry , was now able to understand Greek , that construction workers spoke. Initially he had to take one of the workers along with him just to get the right material. It was surprising how quickly, he understood the whole business and had soon become in disposable for the organization for his communication skills with various departments.
He had always been diplomatic and now he was enjoying himself. Be it bribing an official or getting a favor done for him. He knew it all. It was midday when a labor came running to him. “Sahib there is a body in a gunny bag lying in the field.” he said as he panted for breadth.
“ A body in a gunny bag.” Siddhartha repeated . This discovery meant that all the work would have to be stopped until the police investigations were over. “It is a little new born, Since it is rotten, it looks like somebody threw it on purpose.” The labor was getting hysterical. “ How do you know it is a kid” Siddhartha asked . “ Sir, it is smelling badly and I opened the bag only a little to see what looked like hand.”
The area of the construction site was big , and it took him a while to reach the spot. He broke a stick from a tree, while the labor stood at a little distance. Since it being a Sunday, most of the labor was off and nobody else knew about it. He lifted the opening of the bag. An unholy smell of decay and disgust filled his nostrils. He lifted it enough to see what was inside. Maggots swarming feeding on the flesh of the new born , almost made him puke. He let go of the opening.
“ Its a dead cat, somebody killed it and threw it over here.” He tried to sound convincing.
“But sahib.” “Do little babies have fur , you idiot.” Siddhartha interrupted , what the laborer was about to say. “ Pick it up and dispose it in the swamp.” He ordered.
“Ok, Sahib.” The laborer picked it up and Siddhartha followed . He prayed for the dead baby and wondered if he was doing the right thing. Nobody wanted the kid . When he was alive and now that he was dead. He offered a short prayer for the kid as the swamp swallowed the body.
“Here , this is for you.” He took out a fifty rupee note and gave it to the laborer, who looked at him with pleasingly. “ I am not going to tell anybody sahib.” Siddhartha marked the spot in case he needed to call the police someday. Little did he knew that this event would one day play to his advantage. The security guard was now briefed about the cat and was told not to tell anybody about it. He was reasoned that a scene would be created and his job may fell in to jeopardy if the villagers got a whiff of the story.
Siddhartha's bosses however were pleased at the way he had handled the whole situation and was given a cash reward. Siddhartha had done this only too often ,to understand ,that this was a bribe to keep his mouth shut. He had intended to do so till the right time but had not said no to the reward. He had needed the money and now it was on its way .

That night as he sat in the balcony with a beer in his hand , he started thinking of the days events. Who had murdered the baby and thrown it over the wall . Was it a mistake that had occurred out of a wedlock. The people of Goa Velha were not as simple as they looked. He needed to be careful because who ever had done this surely had known that the body will be discovered and had counted on this. He had been right in thinking that Siddhartha would get rid of the body. Too much was at stake to let the work suffer even for a day. What the person hadn't counted on was that Siddhartha knew who the girl was , after all he had often seen her standing in the window watching cranes lift trucks out of the muck.
The next few days went without any incident. The work progressed slowly but then , there were buildings being made and not small houses . It takes time to get such things constructed. They are not made in a day. Siddhartha kept to himself . The decaying face of the baby had haunted him in his dreams. He hadn't seen the girl ever since the baby was discovered. Probably she had died during the child birth, her body disposed off separately.

Siddhartha sat in his office and wondered what ,if he thought was true. It was time to investigate, but he had to make sure no body knew of his intentions. He devised a plan and was surprised of his cunningness. He called upon Peter , the local boy , a native of Goa Velha , he had helped Siddhartha getting permission from the village panchayat.

“Come in Peter.” Siddhartha said as he heard the knock. Peter was a young boy of twenty , out of a engineering college. He had a diploma for civil engineering and was quick in his job. He could speak Konkani and was appointed as a supervisor at the construction site. His job was to basically over see that all the work was done according to plan and all the Labor was giving a productive output.

He stayed in the village and had joined on the request of the village head. Initially Siddhartha had been apprehensive in appointing Peter as he could be a spy for the village. After consultation with his bosses however , he had decided that it would be a good idea to earn the faith of the local community ,if they wanted the work to progress without unwanted delays. Since Peter had joined ,problems like cut wires , missing cement and bricks had subsided and Peter had not only proven, that he knew his job well ,but also had helped Siddhartha in gaining a couple of important licenses, from the local authorities ,which had been proving extremely tough to get.

“ You wanted to see me sir.” “Yes Peter , I want you to go to that house and ask the lady of the house , if everything is all right. I understand she had a problem a couple of days back regarding one of the trucks knocking down her fence.” He said.

“ Well, if she has a problem , she can come here and talk. Nobody in the village is allowed to talk to her.” Peter said with a worried expression. “And why is that.” Siddhartha asked. He knew about it as he had never seen her joining any of the protests he had initially faced , when the construction had started.

Maria Joseph lived alone with her daughter.

“ Well, you must have observed , her daughter was pregnant , and she ain't married. When the village panchayat came to know of this , they decided that it was in the best interest to boycott the family.” Peter said. Siddhartha observed that Peter had used “was” instead of “is”. This meant he knew something.

“Was !!!” Peter suddenly realized he had blurted out too much. “Well , she gave birth to a still born a couple of days ago. She died in the process of child birth , since no village women would go to her house to help Maria's daughter deliver the baby.” Peter said looking in to the oblivion.

“What about taking the girl to hospital, I an sure her mother could have done that.” Siddhartha felt sad for her. “ Sir, in our village a boycotted family ,is devoid of all the rights and these include going to the hospital, I am sure if she had tried to take her , she would have been killed on the way , with her daughter. The only chance of survival for her was to take her chances here.” Peter said.

“ I thought Goa was a open minded community. How can people behave in such a manner. I wonder what the police would like to say about this.” Siddhartha was feeling angry now. Somebody had died and nobody seemed to care . He got up to go ,but Peter stopped him.

“ You dont want to do it, trust me.” He said with a chill in his voice. Siddhartha felt goose bumps . Peter was more then what he appeared to be and was surely an orthodox believer of his community rules.

“And why is that.” Siddhartha tried to put on a brave front. He had felt goose bumps on the back of his neck . “ Because if you try to do anything stupid , people here are not going to let you work here , and that is just the beginning of your troubles. They will make you disappear in a jiffy.” Peter said. He knew Siddhartha was afraid now and was enjoying this. He could now make Siddhartha do anything he wanted including , getting jobs for his friends. Siddhartha understood what was going on in Peter's mind. He had to handle the situation tactfully . He had been thinking emotionally and now was not the time to do that.

“ I have no intention of going anywhere, all I wanted to know was that Mrs. Joseph is not facing any trouble because of us. Our company policy does not believe in causing the local community problems .” He said. “ In that case , there is no harm done , and I am sure you will keep in mind what I told you.”Peter said . Siddhartha knew Peter was a spy now and although he was doing his job sincerely , he was also performing this job with equal sincerity. He wondered if Peter knew of the dead baby , being disposed on the property. He had to be careful. A dead cat was trying to get out of the bag now, and he had to be careful, what he said next.

“You can go back to work and let me know when the cement truck arrives. Who cares for an old lady , now that you have told me her story and the consequences that one might have to face.” He said in a assuring tone . Peter looked convinced as he walked out of his office. Siddhartha decided he needed to be more careful in the future about what he spoke and to whom he spoke.



“He is the spy.” Siddhartha told his Boss Mr. Rajat Mohanti. Mohanti was a stout fellow with a balding head . He had made his money in the stock market and had invested the profits in a hotel. With time his hotel empire had grown to include a chain of restaurants. Since there was a construction boom in Goa , he had purchased land all over Goa and had made handsome profits selling beach front properties. Now he was making Service apartments, that would be another jewel in his shining armor.

“ I knew it from the first day, and I kept him for that reason only. This keeps the local people from looking over the wall to see what is going on inside. Also he is going to prove a great help once we have to apply for the electricity, water and other connections for the apartments.” Mohanti said with out even looking up . He was reading the weekly expense list and was wondering where to cut expenses. What had started as a couple of thousand a week , had now grown in to a few lakh of rupees a week expenditure. Mohanti , if he was under strain from all the expense, wasn't showing. All he did was to sit back lit a cigarette and sign the checks. The project manager wondering if he was or he wasn't.



“In that case I will take your leave sir.” Siddhartha said. He knew that now Mohanti was going to spend time with the project manager and he still couldn't understand structural drawing. He would inevitably get bored and did not want to yawn in front of Mohanti. It was around five. Sitting in that meeting meant , to be in office till eight. “ You may leave” Mohanti said never even once looking at him.



Siddhartha kick started his bike. He bought a couple of beers on the way . He reached the company flat at around 6.30 and kept the beer in the chiller. He had recently acquired a second hand fridge. He took the other beer in the Balcony and opened it. Pressure had built up inside the bottle. It was an art ,he had learned in college and although the beer spurted out, not a single drop fell on the ground. He congratulated himself on this feat once again . As he sipped the beer , he wondered who took care of the expenses of Mrs. Joseph and how did she dispose the body. He hadn't seen any mourners nor anybody taking the body . This could only have meant one thing. The dead girl was still in the house. He decided to go to Mrs. Maria Joseph's house that night.
Siddhartha reached Goa Velha at around nine pm in the night. The road was treacherous and after waiting for what looked like eternity, he approached Mrs. Josephs house. The light was still , Mrs. Joseph seemed awake. There was no sound coming which meant she was alone.

He knocked the door. At first nobody answered , then he heard clanging of pan in the kitchen sink. So she was in the kitchen. May be she hadn't heard him. He went around the house. With darkness to his advantage, he saw Mrs. Joseph standing by the sink cleaning the dishes. She obviously hadn't heard him or didn't want to open the door. The Kitchen door opened in to the room , by whose window Siddhartha had often seen Mrs. Joseph's daughter standing watching the trucks. He could see the corner of the bed from where he stood. Since the blinds were partially drawn , he couldn't see if there was someone on the bed. He moved a little to adjust his line of sight. A foot dangled from between the sheets. It was moving a little. The glass blinds were shut . So there was somebody in the house along with Mrs. Joseph. Why hadn't that person got up and opened the door. Was it possible that Mrs. Joseph's daughter was still alive but then why had Peter said she had died during child birth. The mystery was getting deeper. He decided to knock again.



Siddhartha was about to knock on the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Peter. He fingered Siddhartha to follow him slowly without making any noise. They both went to the other kitchen window. What Siddhartha saw almost made him puke. He let out a faint shrill of a cry but was unable to take his off, what he was witnessing. Mrs Joseph's Daughter was lying on the bed. She was dead alright. No human could survive if her torso had been cut apart to tear her womb out. It had been hacked by some rough edged knife and a rat was crawling near her thighs digging in to her flesh every now and then , making the dangling foot move. There was dried blood every where. A cloth covered her face so the expressions were not visible. An acrid smell was coming from the room and Mrs. Joseph , it seemed didn't mind the smell. She was talking now and then looking at the body ,as if she was still alive. Every now and then She would call the corpse Erina and Siddhartha concluded her name was that.

They had seen enough. Peter took Siddhartha to his house in the village. He didn't speak but went inside to get two pints of beer. “ this was badly needed, I can't believe my eyes.” Siddhartha said in a state of shock. Peter looked coldly at him . “ You would have been dead tonight, if I hadn't seen your bike and knew where to find you. At first when I didn't see you , I thought you were inside. I had almost rushed in to the house but then I saw you crouching by the rose shrub.”

“Why do you say that. All I had wanted to know was , that if daughter was dead , then maybe I could have helped her in the burial.” Siddhartha said.

“ Its not that simple. Do you think that the villagers don't know that Erina lies on that bed as cold as ice. Nobody has seen the open womb. The day she had died, a lot of folks had gone to bury her but Mrs. Joseph thinks Erina is still alive and she had attacked them with the same knife, she had cut open Erina's womb. She's mad and chances are she will kill anybody who tries to get in to her house.” Peter said. His eyes were welling with tears now.

“What about the police .” Siddhartha asked. “ In this village police never comes , It didn't come when the villagers agitated against the construction on your land, It won't come now.” Peter said with hatred towards authority.

Siddhartha was kind of surprised at the situation. Why would the police not come if they were informed that a poor old lady was living with a corpse. Wasn't it morally wrong in the land of churches. Where every Sunday people would flock the churches in hoards.

“ I dont understand , Why wont they come.” He repeated his question to Peter.

“ Its a long story .” “ I got all the time in the world.” He replied.

“ It all began a couple of centuries ago. Goa was under the Portuguese rule then. This land used to be marsh lands where the cruel rulers would dispose the dead. During that time there used to be a witch who would take out the entails of the dead and preserve them for making potions. She could solve any ailment ,and her medicines were mostly sought after by Portuguese merchants who would sell them in the Spanish markets. She had a daughter called Anabella. She was a beautiful girl, every liked her . She was popular with kids and used to give them candies that she used to make at home.

One day a man named Franc came to town. He was a handsome man and loved good life. He saw Anabella and they fell in love at the first sight. She got pregnant with a child of Franc. Franc who loved his philandering ways left Anabella, and for the fear of her mother disappeared. Anabella on the night of her delivery was in slithering pain and her mother did little to help her. When her crying became intolerable she had cut open her womb and and set a curse on the village . “Every girl who shall give birth out of wedlock shall suffer this fate, and those who help her or her family.” In a way she had placed the curse on herself. Nobody seemed to bother the old witch. She had cut the body of Annabella and had used her entails in her potion, thus spreading the curse from one villager to another. Soon the village was taken over by lust and girls would just get pregnant. Illegitimate relations became a norm of the day. The church predicted the end was near.

There was a priest called Joseph in the church. A man of intelligence he decided to put an end to this curse that had given birth to evil. He was a respected man in the community. He organized a prayer meeting in which every one was invited including the witch. When he spoke about the impending doom, the witch felt sorry and asked for forgiveness. The people were angry and wanted to burn the witch . Father Joseph realizing the witch was truly ashamed for what she had done, asked her what was the way out of the curse.

The witch said “ I wanted revenge and my revenge is complete, however any family that helps or keeps contact with such a girl or her family shall suffer.” She said this and died Since then people are afraid and while even lovers stay Virgin till they are married, new age contraceptive have proven to be of no use. Inside a certain region every thing fails. And this village is at the core.” Peter concluded the story.

“And you want me to believe it .” Siddhartha was dumb founded at the strange tale, ha had just heard.

After a while he spoke. “ So that is the reason police doesn't come here, for the fear of the curse, and that is the reason nobody helped Mrs. Joseph.” Suddenly it struck ! “Is Mrs. Joseph some way related to Father Joseph.” he asked Peter.

“ Yes , She is the direct and last descendant of Father Joseph. The irony is the man who saved the village , is the man who suffers the most.” Peter said.



Siddhartha was flabbergasted at this belief in superstitions. A girl had lost her life , A kid had died with his body scheduled to be disposed in the swamp. Now he understood why Mrs. Joseph had left the body in the compound . She couldn't bring herself to throw the baby in the swamp. It also meant the baby was still alive when she had left him. Probably she had killed him or he had died in the night the day it was born , kept in the house till it began to rot. Too many theories played on in his mind. He felt sad for the community , For Mrs. Joseph , for Erina and for himself. He had played a part in the whole event that had taken place. He did not wanted to work there any longer.



He took another beer and wondered what he should do next. Peter sat next to him and said nothing. He knew it was going to take time for the facts to sink in. No matter how weird or superstitious, things sounded ,they had to be accepted by Siddhartha. He should do nothing. Peter sat their for a long time looking from Siddhartha to Mrs. Joseph's house and then back to Siddhartha.

“ I should be leaving now. Guess I got the answer I was looking for.” Siddhartha got up to go . Peter stood up and said “ I am sorry but this is the way things are supposed to be.” Siddhartha kick started the bike and started back . He was turning around when he caught a hint of Mrs. Joseph in the doorway. She was dragging a coffin down the steps. She was prepared finally to cremate.



Siddhartha was confused. This event did not agree with any of the facts that had been told by Peter. Neither Mrs. Joseph looked like the killer type. If she knew her daughter was dead why would she attack people who had gone to help her. Siddhartha decided that what ever Peter had told him was false. The real story was different . He needed to hear it from the horses mouth. He was worried now , a murder that police won't investigate. A community that didn't care and Peter who had clearly warned him not to get involved. It was too late, he was involved now and he had to find the truth even if it meant danger.

----------------------------
Sandeep had arrived at the station and had found the staff car waiting for him. The PSO ( private security officer ) was waiting for him . He saluted him ,which Sandeep acknowledged with a slight flick of his head. The journey had been long and boring. The train was running a couple of hours late and he being a very punctual man wasn't very pleased with the efficiency of the railway system. He had always preferred to fly . But unavailability of flight tickets on such a short notice had left him stranded. He had thought of changing his travel plans but the PRO of the police department had assured him, he would be comfortable in the first class of the express. It had been some time he had seen Romil and was looking forward to meeting her. He knew ,that his life was going to involve this travel and yet he had married Romil. He had fallen in love with her , the first time he had seen her picture.



He had known about Siddhartha . Romil had told him everything , not because she didn't want to marry Sandeep but because she didn't want to hide anything. Sandeep had appreciated this honesty and his love had grown even deeper for her. He had tried to make sure that , this question was never brought up but now he had somehow started to realize that Romil was not able to forget Siddhartha, no matter how much he had tried.



He had brought gifts for Romil initially . Romil had never shown interest in those and when he saw that the gifts he had brought for her were lying unopened , he had felt bad and had stopped bringing anything. Romil was a mystery to him. After almost three years of marriage and no kids , he still wondered what he was doing wrong. Maybe a kid would take Romil's mind of Siddhartha , but this would involve further complications. If they were going to separate, it would be better to do so without any liabilities. There parents had already come to terms with the impending Divorce.



Mr. Kumar had met Sandeep and had said sorry. Sandeep had assured him , that he would try to bring back Romil from the past and he won't be the first one to file for the divorce. This had relieved Mr. Kumar to a great extent. Sandeep's parents however were not that understanding. They had been asking him to divorce her , the sooner the better. After all they wanted to be grandparents before they died.



The car reached the portico of the government quarters were Romil used to live. She was waiting in the verandah. They met formally in front of the staff, but then they always met his way. She was wearing a sari and was ready to go to the office. It was a half day, she had planned to come back after a few meetings. “ Hi, how are you. I got a couple of meetings scheduled for today and will be back around till three. I have already instructed Ram Singh about the food so you can relax till three. You must be tired.” She said in an official tone. Sandeep felt like his mother was giving instruction when he was ten years old. “ Ok, I will wait for you.” He said as Romil sat in the car. Ram Singh who was happy to see his sahib took the bags out of the car. He had always liked sahib and knew his memsahib was anxious to see sahib. He had often observed that memsahib would be relatively happy in the presence of sahib,but could never utter a word about this because of his status.



Sandeep had brunch and went to sleep. It was his destiny that he would always get food cooked by servants. In his father's home, a servant named Ram Singh would cook the food. The irony was here it was again a namesake , who was feeding him. He was tired and after taking a bath went to sleep.

He got up around five in the evening. Romil hadn't returned . Sandeep only knew too well that no matte how hard Romil would try to wind up the meeting, she would not be able to leave it in between. He had often faced a similar situation himself.



Romil came back at around eight in the night . She was profusely sorry and Sandeep actually didn't mind or care , why she was late. In some other house hold this could have been a major cause of a fight. They had dinner together and then went to bed. Romil was as cold as ever.

Next morning they were having tea together. It was Romil who brought up the issue , that Sandeep had been avoiding for so long.

“I want a divorce.” She had said.

“ I know.” was all he could answer. “ I think that we can't live like this forever, with you staying away for so long.” she said. “Is that the only reason or I need to know more.” Sandeep asked her.

“ No , that is the only reason.” She answered.

“ In that case, let me apply for a transfer.” Sandeep said. “ok” The issue had been put to rest for now but Sandeep knew that in time it would be brought up again. Romil last night had not responded to his kisses and while he had made love to her , she had not responded. All she had insisted on was the use of contraceptives ,which meant she was clearly not interested in having a baby. He had no idea why she had done it and now it was becoming clear to him.



Sandeep didn't talk to Romil the entire day. They watched television the whole day. A new story was developing . A mother had been caught in Goa , who had murdered her daughter and killed her new born baby. Romil switched the television off. It was time for Sandeep to leave. His food had to be packed . She instructed Ram Singh to make some aloo puris for Sandeep.

Sandeep had been thinking the whole day about what Romil had said . She was right in the sense that they couldn't live like this. Although , he had assured her that he would get a transfer ,he wasn't sure himself. He would become a different man as soon as he would reach back. An IPS officer. He left the decision on time. He cared for Romil and knew that a divorce at this stage would cause her more harm then good.



He boarded the train. He had seen the news clipping and wondered how a mother could kill her daughter. Maybe at times harsh decision are to be taken. He didn't know that , this particular piece of news was going to change his life for ever

Chapter 5
Siddhartha wondered what he should do about the whole situation. If he informed the police , it would cause only trouble both with the villagers and the administration. There was no sanity . He thought of Romil . She could help him out by calling up a few of concerned departments in Goa.

He sat in his balcony and opened a beer. It was late in the night. Probably Romil would be asleep. Hell , he didn't have her number. What was he thinking . He thought of all the officers he had come to know in Goa . Mr . Desai who was an ex – IPS could help him out. Yes he was going to call Mr. Desai. He would be able to help him out.



He dialed his number . “Mr. Desai , this is Siddhartha , remember we met regarding the electricity department.” “Yes , I remember , how can I help you .” Mr. Desai replied curtly. He wasn't very pleased to hear Siddhartha calling so late in the night. He wondered why he was calling so late in the night . Mr. Desai was a retired IPS officer and had lived in Goa all his life. He was around sixty years old and with a ramrod straight back would still depict the persona of an officer of the law. After retirement he had joined a consultancy firm as a legal adviser and would look in to matters related to the electricity department.

“Uh..., I am sorry to call you so late in the night sir but there is a problem I wanted to discuss with you .” Siddhartha said and narrated to him the whole incident . However he omitted the part where he was involved in the incident , that is , the disposal of the dead baby.



Mr Desai listened to him aptly and said “ This is a serious matter , did you inform the police.” “No sir.” Siddhartha replied and then told Mr. Desai what peter had told him. “ Thats sheer nonsense and I was in charge of that area for five years . Most probably Peter has to do something with this whole incident.” “ So what should I do now” Siddhartha asked.

“ Well inform the police , I am sure they will find Mrs. Joseph and Peter in the grave yard burying the body of the deceased.” Mr. Desai replied . His voice was now sounding urgent and had the authority of a police officer. If he would have still been in the police force, he would have immediately got dressed and gone to the crime scene. His body ached to dawn the uniform again.His desire for action made him change his mind.

“ Wait at your hotel I am coming there to pick you up.”Mr . Desai didn't want to miss any of the action. The officer in him had convinced him, that an element of danger was there ,and. who was going to believe Siddhartha. His presence would at least provide some weight to Siddhartha's statement. He got dressed and after looking in the trunk found his unused .32 bore revolver ,which hadn't seen the light of the day for many years now. Casually slipping in in to his inner coat pocket , he walked out of the house making as little noise as possible so as not to disturb his wife.



He drove his Opel to Siddhartha's house and found him waiting outside. They had to act urgently before the culprits got away. He had made to Siddhartha's house in good time, and ,was surprised to see Siddhartha waiting outside. It had taken only ten minutes for him to reach there.



“ Get in .” He commanded . Siddhartha got in to the car and on the bequest of Mr. Desai repeated the whole incident . Goa Velha was around 10 Km from Panjim and they had to pick up the police too. Mr. Desai made a hasty call. “ Hello, Desai here. Look I want you people to reach the Goa Velha grave yard as soon as possible . Make sure you got the ambulance and enough force to surround the yard. Yeah , see you there.” He kept the phone down . Siddhartha looked at him quizzically.



Mr . Desai sensing Siddhartha's questioning look said “ That was the superintendent of Police , he trained under me so I know him well.” He turned the car around and were on there way to the Goa Velha graveyard.





The duo reached the grave yard which was as silent as it should have been . The grave yard was a few centuries old and had the eeriness surrounding it . With time , what had been a majestic entrance had turned in to rubble ,banyan roots covering the gate. The iron gate was rusted and had come off the hinges . The walls of the grave yard were crumbling and it portrayed every inch of the era , it belonged to. The grave yard was not in use anymore and Mr . Desai had calculated ,that ,if a body was going to be disposed it would be here at this grave yard . His reason was simple but only a genius police officer could think of it. Firstly the body could not be carried without a proper vehicle ,none of the two culprits owned a vehicle big enough to carry it. Secondly the new grave yard at Agasim was manned by a Chowkidar who would not have allowed them to do their job in peace.



He flicked on his torch and pointed it on the ground . Fresh marks were in the soil, as if something heavy had been dragged in to the grave yard. There was no moon light and finding their way without the torchlight was a difficult task. They had to do without the torchlight ,lest the culprits would spot them and leave the business at hand, unattended.



A faint sound was coming from a distance. A grave was being dug. Mr. Desai , who was a veteran in these kind of situations made no noise and signaled Siddhartha to do the same. They cautiously approached the crime scene. They turned the corner and saw a lady sitting by an oil lamp on a grave. If they hadn't known who it was they might have mistook her for a ghost. It was Mrs. Joseph who was sobbing while Peter was busy digging a shallow grave. A casket laid near by which held the body of the dead girl.



Mr . Desai took out his .32 bore . On seeing the gun, Siddhartha took a step back. He stumbled on a grave stone and fell. The noise was enough to wake up the dead . “ Don't move , police “ Mr . Desai shouted as Peter tried to get out of the grave and Mrs. Joseph got up . Mr . Desai hurried to the spot . He made sure that Peter and Mrs. Joseph saw the gun. Peter threw down the shovel , while Mrs. Joseph broke in to a wail , making the whole environment even more ghastly. Siddhartha swore to himself and stumbled to the spot. Peter looked at him with venomous eyes . Mrs. Joseph just stood there contemplating what she should do. “ You both are under arrest.” Mr . Desai said .

“ Under what charges , you are a retired officer Mr. Desai .” Peter barked . He was angry now ,and was looking for an opportunity to get away from the crime scene. Mr. Desai was quick in answering. “ That we shall see .” He hadn't finished the sentence when a truck load of cops came running to the crime scene with 303 's hanging over there shoulders.



The arrest was quick and the body was sent for postmortem. The SP congratulated both Mr. Desai and Siddhartha for acting so bravely however he didn't mention to forget that it was foolish on their part to barge on to the culprits in such a manner .



The next day All channels flashed this very news. Coming out of a small village in Goa where a mother had killed her daughter was the hot favorite of the news channels. Mr. Desai's name was mentioned while Siddhartha was not in the picture . Maybe making a hero out of an ex- service personal made more sense. Siddhartha was also taken for questioning . It was him who had seen the body first ,when it was lying n the house . The police just had to find the motive of the murder. Siddhartha was hailed as a hero in the police department, till the time the postmortem report came . The police was now looking for the dead body of the dead baby. Only three persons knew where it was . Peter , Siddhartha and the labor who had disposed the body. The case was unsolved and Siddhartha finally thought, was it better to heed to what Peter had said in the beginning “ Stay away and you will be safe.”



It being a Sunday , Siddhartha came out of the police station and went straight to bed only to be called up by his boss. “ Where are you , did you hear the news , whats going on there , I heard you are also involved in the case . I am coming tomorrow.” The line went dead before Siddhartha could utter a word. Till now he hadn't even thought of the repercussions that were bound to occur , once the news of Peter's arrest was out . After all , he was one the employees of the company. Till now he had been feeling like a hero , but now his heart had a sinking feeling. Maybe his boss was going to fire him after all for not being able to handle a situation and getting involved in to something that would malign the reputation of the company.



However , He had a bigger worry . What if Peter opened his mouth or the labor who had disposed the body opened his mouth . Surely he would be arrested for not informing the police. He was also worried that in case ,the police did find out , they were surely going to arrest him since he was also a part of the crime and had not informed the police before hand. What was he going to tell the police. His conscience woke up a little late , when he did not see the girl , he had been eying for some time now.

He knew how the system worked . He wouldn't have been surprised if Peter used his clout in the village and cooked up some story putting the entire blame for the murder on Siddhartha.



He was getting worried now. With each passing moment he felt his heart beat grow, until he could hear it. It was time to take some action. He decided to go to Mr. Desai for help. After all , he had believed him last night . Why won't he now.



“ Mr. Desai , I wanted to meet you .” “ Definitely ,in fact I didn't get a chance to congratulate you .” Mr. Desai said. “Well , when can I meet you” Siddhartha asked. “ Come by in the evening.” Mr Desai replied and the line was disconnected.



Siddhartha was apprehensive about how Mr. Desai was going to deal with what he had to say. Was he going to get him arrested. He had to tell the truth . At least he won't have to carry the burden . The face of the dead baby had been haunting him since last night taunting him . He tried to sleep , but couldn't.

After turning around in the bed for what seemed hours , he got ready to go to Mr. Desai's house.

He kick started his bike and half an hour later was standing in front of Mr. Desai's house . The Opel was parked on the kerb. Mr . Desai was home. He rang the doorbell.

“Come on in Siddhartha , I was waiting for you.” Siddhartha could feel the warmth in Mr. Desai's voice and wondered if it would be still there after he told him , how exactly he had got involved in the firs place. “ What will you have , tea ,coffee or Feni.” Mr. Desai asked him. “Tea would be fine.” “ My boy , its time for Feni , let's celebrate.” Mr. Desai said acting the perfect host. “ I don't know how to tell you this , but I know where the body of the dead baby is. I had found it on the construction site and with the help of a labor disposed it fearing undue interference in case , I got the police involved. I am sorry for what I have done ,but then I didn't realize the matter was going to become so big.” Siddhartha said ,he felt the burden lift of his heart. His pulse becoming normal again, that had been racing against a super fast train till this time.

“ Boy, why didn't you tell them at the station.” Mr. Desai looked at him quizzically. He had a surprised expression on his face and wondered if Siddhartha was just being plain honest or was a fool . He knew that his confession would make him as guilty as the other guilty. He had often seen in the court of law how evidence were turned and while guilty were acquitted, It was the non guilty who faced the brunt.

“ I was afraid sir, the fact is that the face of the baby has been haunting me for a long time now and I am unable to sleep. It was because of him that I went to look in to Mrs. Joseph's house in the first place.” Siddhartha confessed.

Mr . Desai was rather surprised now. No one had even tried to find out what Siddhartha had been doing in the first place spying on Mrs. Joseph. He smiled . The defendant's lawyer would have had a field day with this . No matter what they would have said in the court of law ,Siddhartha would have been proven guilty. It was more then evident , while Mr. Desai would although have said , that Siddhartha informed him . The chain of events was incomplete with out the first part of the story. What was Siddhartha doing at Mrs. Joseph's house in the first place.



There was only one way to save grace now. Recover the body . The police had to do it on their own , without making Peter confess. This was the only way . As for Siddhartha being present at Mrs. Joseph's house , they had to cook up a story for that. He called the SP and told him the location of the dead baby.

The body of the baby was highly decomposed and the cloth bag that contained it was only clue that the baby had belonged to Irina. It had the initials I. J knitted on it. The labor who had disposed the body had disappeared after he had come to know of the incident.



Peter and Mrs. Joseph were charged for first degree murder. While Siddhartha felt free , the media was now flocking the village of Goa Velha moving around the construction site looking for clues. The village of Goa Velha had suddenly become famous and every one on the construction site was busy giving sound bytes to eager journalists. Even the project manager of the construction site stood commenting to one of the television crews, how he had discovered the body and had informed the police.



Siddhartha decided to stay away from the limelight. He got in to the company's Toyota Innova .His boss was arriving by 3.30 Kingfisher flight. Siddhartha knew he had to brief him of all the developments . The boss had specially asked him to be present on his arrival and Siddhartha knew the reason. He was supposed to tell him everything. Siddhartha briefed Nitin Gupta in the car , who wasn't very pleased . He seemed to be more worried about completing the project on time and did not like the press cars parked all over the construction site. He had seen the footage on television. It was time to do some damage control. After all , who would buy an apartment where dead bodies were being found. He looked at Siddhartha in displeasure , who sat in the front seat. Nitin Gupta made a mental note to fire him ,once all this was over.
Anju Aneja sat in her posh office. It had been many years since she had actually done active journalism and although she ached to get on the floor , her job profile was more on the investigative front now. A few years ago when she had joined as a news reporter for a channel called Newslink , little had she realized , that one day she would be appointed as head of the investigative team. Newslink was a trusted channel amongst its viewers and the TRP's were there to prove it. When ever there was a crime , the investigative team would go through the whole story , analyzing it . They would make sure that the channel didn't jump to conclusions as their counterparts did ,and this had earned them respect in the circle. Anju was a in her mid thirties now , and although was good looking , years of working as a crime scene reporter had taken its toll. She was not married , and had never felt the need for it. Her job had kept her so busy all these years , that when the age for marriage slipped past by her , she had hardly noticed it. A couple of affairs with office staff and she had concluded , it wasn't her cup of tea. At five foot five , She led from the front and her big break had come when she had single handedly brought to justice a corrupt police officer in Goa . He had retired last year , the inquiry still pending against him.
The irony of the situation was that, the same officer had been involved in the arrest last night. She wondered if she had been wrong about him after all.

The case file of Irina Joseph murder case was lying in front of her. At first instance it looked like a matter of honor killing . Looking deeply in to the facts , with the police convinced that the murder was committed by Irina's mother and Peter , it looked like an open and shut case , but her mind said , there was more to the whole story. She re read the file . The reporter on the crime scene and at the police station had mentioned , that somebody had been with Desai . This person had been escorted away by the police and nothing was disclosed about his identity. While Desai's face was plastered all over the news channels , she felt sick looking at him. She could hardly believe that a year ago , she had found out how Desai had made a name in the police department . He had killed quite a number of innocent people in the name of encountering drug mafia. She had collected evidence against him and before she could actually take any action, Desai had retired.

The police and the government had not taken her seriously and while they had set up an inquiry against the man, no one really followed the case. She busy with her job and the media loosing interest once there was another sensational news to broad cast. How ever this time Desai had emerged a hero. He had taken all the credit for the arrest but had failed to explain, who the person with him was or how he had got the information , that a body was being disposed in the grave yard. Why was he carrying the .32 bore revolver and how he had known where the body of the dead baby was.

The report said that , “ Mr . Desai was driving to Agasim for some personnel work , when he had seen a light in the grave yard. Since it was a moon less night , he became curious . At first he thought , he had seen ghost. His officer instincts however too the better of him and had decided to investigate. He had turned the car around and thinking what somebody might be doing in a grave yard at this hour made him suspicious. At first he thought , it might be some grave robbers but when he reached the crime scene , he had caught Peter and Mrs. Joseph red handed disposing the body. He had called the police and was hailed as a hero.” Nowhere in the report was a mention of the other person, however three person had been taken away from the crime scene besides Mr. Desai. Anju sat there for a long time. There were lot of loop holes in the theory. She could not go to Desai and ask him questions. Mrs. Joseph and Peter has been arrested by the police. There was no way for her to find out who this person was . All the channels had already made this very news as “ Breaking news” and her bosses wanted her to come up with something that would make their story different from the other channels. It was also an opportunity for her to bring in the picture , the old pending case against Desai. How she wanted to get Desai punished.
She picked up the phone and dialed a number. It was her informer in the police Department. “ Hello , Anju here.” She said. “ Yes madam, how are you , what can I do for you.” the informer answered.
“ I wanted to know about the Joseph case , there were three persons present at the crime scene besides Desai, who was this person.” She asked.
“ You got the wrong information madam. Mr. Desai was alone at the crime scene.”
“But a fourth person was there , who was initially mentioned by the police and later they retracted from their statement.” She felt frustrated . May be there was no fourth person. Her sixth sense however told her there was indeed a fourth person and the reporter at the crime scene and seen some one being taken away by the police.
“ Ok, I hope you got your monthly.” She coaxed her informer in to saying some thing.
“ Madam , I am just a constable and wasn't even present on the crime scene, let me find out.” Her trick worked. Police constables were generally the best source of information. They were present invisibly all over the department silently hearing , what was cooking and it was through this constable , she had found out about how Desai had mastered the art of fake encounters . He had been teaching the tricks of the trade to a junior officer.

Anju leaned back on her chair and closed her eyes. Although every thing seemed open and shut, there was something amiss. The phone rang. “ Hello, yes sir , I am working on it , there is something I want to confirm from the police department.... yes sir.” She answered. The pressure was building up. Her boss had called her up to ask for up dates.

She looked at her mobile phone. No calls. Should she call her informer again. It was too early. “Every body needs somebody to love” The mobile rang . She was in love with the song and had made it her caller tune when she had first heard GNR sing “November Rain”. She wanted to hear the second stanza but looking at the number immediately picked it . It was her informer.
“ Madam , I spoke to a constable who was present at the arrest. Yes , there was a fourth person. He doesn't know the name but he was not arrested. He was questioned and later released on Mr. Desai's bequest.” He looked pleased with this information .
“ Thanks” Anju kept the phone down. So there was a fourth person who's identity the police had hidden from the media. The question was why they had done so . Anju looked at her Titan watch . She knew she could now be able to meet the deadline. It was however important to bring this person in to the studios for an interview.
She looked at list of people who had appeared live in relation to this piece of news. This fourth person was somehow connected to these people , but whom . The project manager of the construction site seemed to be lying through his teeth about how he had discovered the body of the baby. HE wasn't even there when the body was recovered and was still seen adjusting his belt , when a mike had been thrust in to his face for sound bytes. He seemed only too eager to face the camera. It couldn't be him. It was not one of the persons who she had seen on camera. It was someone who was related to the crime in a odd way. He had known everything and hadn't been mentioned by the police or the media till now. He didn't want to appear on the news channel either.
“ Joshi , bring in the footage of the construction site.” She called her camera man who was yawning after spending the whole night at the graveyard and later at the police station. “Madam, we have shown all the footage. There is some footage of the interview with the owner of the construction site left,Should I get that .” He asked covering his mouth so Anju couldn't hear him yawn.
“ Get all of it” She commanded.
She loaded the CD on her desk top and pressed play . The interview was like any other . It was just another self promotional gimmick , with the construction site owner talking about the development of his site and the kind of apartments he was coming up with. The video was about to end when a tall guy entered the office. Although his back faced the camera , his voice drew suspicion.
“ Sir , the car is ready to go.” He had said , his voice was shaky and he sounded rather sleepy.
It was a Sunday and probably he was just an employee. She rewound the footage. She zoomed in. She noticed the watch . He was wearing a Longines. A chronograph. It meant he was some big shot in the company. Why hadn't he bothered to give an interview.
“This person who comes in at the end , did you take an interview” She asked Vinod .
“No, we tried , he said he didn't knew anything . He looked tired as if he hadn't slept the whole night.” Joshi had known that look on the face of Anju madam. He knew she was up to something . He had seen it once before . That time Desai had got into trouble. Was she happy because she had found something against Desai.
“You can go.” Joshi stood up and left the office. Anju started typing on her Desk top.
“Breaking news, while the police arrested Peter and Mrs. Joseph for the murder of Irina , there was evidence found through reliable sources , that Mr. Desai , the retired Police officer was not the only person present on the scene of the crime.....................


Romil sat in front of the television having food. She hadn't heard from Sandeep, and was wondering if he had reached safely. Romil had started to like Sandeep but she knew that she would never be able to love him. Sandeep that day had heard her out and had promised her , that he would see what he could do regarding his transfer.

She flicked the channels . Every news channel was stuck with the news of the hour. Irina Joseph's killing. She wondered why anybody would kill her daughter and her new born baby. Ram Singh brought her back from her reverie “ Madam , the food is getting cold.” He stood there holding a plate containing some rice. Romil hadn't eaten anything. The food was cold and unappetizing .
“ Re heat it Ram Singh.” She ordered Ram Singh . May be it would make it more edible. She wondered why the staff cooks were not trained to make proper food . Maybe they were supposed to make it the way they wanted to. Maybe they were married to a job that just like hers was dead, with no passion in it to keep them working.

She changed the channel. Anju Aneja was holding a discussion with one of the crime experts. She had liked this channel for their portrayal of the truth in an honest light. She believed these guys unlike other channels who would just sensationalize the news to gain TRP ratings.

“ Sir , there was another person there on the crime scene , Do you think he was also involved.” Anju was asking this expert. “ Well , if there was wouldn't we know about him.” She was answered . “ Well , thats what our expert has to say , but the sources in the police has confirmed that there was another person and soon we are going to reveal his identity. He is in the studio right now with us.” Anju said.

Romil heart had skipped a beat when she had seen Siddhartha sitting in that chair. He looked a little old but she could not mistake those looks and that boyish charm . He looked tense and kept looking at his watch. She remembered the watch , how could she had forgotten it , after all it was her who had given Siddhartha this watch. Siddhartha was in Goa . How long she had tried to find him and had no clue. Siddhartha's parents of course hadn't told her where he was and there was no way of finding him. She had given up all hope and just when she was thinking of moving on , Siddhartha had once again emerged from the shadows of her past.
“ Mr. Siddhartha , you were at the crime scene and were the first one to notice the body inside the house , isn't it right.” Anju asked him.
“ Yes , I was there and I gave the information to Mr. Desai , since I didn't now how to act upon it.” He answered . Romil felt Siddhartha's words piercing her heart. That deep husky voice , she was in love with. Was Sandeep also watching. A fear crept in to her heart. What if Sandeep recognized that Siddhartha was the same guy , she had told him about . What if Sandeep went after him. After all she had heard stories about him and being an IPS officer surely he could pull strings in Goa. She prayed to God that Sandeep was unaware of this development. Siddhartha was telling Anju the whole incident as it had happened and He seemed to play the part of a informer well. He looked the part and although was tense in the beginning of the show now seemed to be enjoying the camera spotlight on him. Romil remembered how Siddhartha had loved the spotlight once . It was his big break after all. Playing the part of an informer for a media channel in a high profile case.

Romil listened to the whole incident and was rather impressed when he had told Anju , how he had wanted to enter the house but was stopped by Peter. He had a lot of presence of mind by not believing Peter and informing Mr. Desai. Romil was glad that Siddhartha hadn't tried to be a hero . He had done the right thing. Romil wanted to meet Siddhartha , but , then he was sitting in some studio in Goa. If it would have been Delhi , she would have immediately gone to meet him, to reconcile with him.

The interview ended . Romil got up and old Ram Singh that she was not going to eat after all. She wanted to meet Siddhartha . She knew after giving this interview he would get in to trouble with the authorities. She wanted to save him but how. Sandeep cold have helped but why would he . Wasn't she his wife. Why would he help her wife's ex lover. Maybe he would . She didn't know what to do . Whom to call. She picked u p the phone and dialed Sandeep.
“ Hello , Sandeep , how are you doing , I was just wondering if you reached safely.” She said deciding to let Sandeep mention the topic. “ yes , I did. I was about to call you , good you called .” Sandeep answered. “ Well, I have applied for a transfer today and my boss agrees that it is important for me to save our marriage.” He continued.
“ Thats good news .” Romil wanted to tell him about Siddhartha and that she had finally found out his whereabouts but thought it was best to keep quiet at this time. Let Sandeep mention him. She was confident that he was watching the show. “ So , lets see , when I get the transfer . Are you all right.” He asked . He hadn't got any response and wondered if Romil had even heard him.
“ Yeah , I am ok . I am just a bit tired . Well then I will call you tomorrow.” Romil kept the phone down. She wondered if Sandeep had seen the news channel. She would tell him tomorrow.

Sandeep looked at the phone. Forty two seconds. Romil wanted to say something but hadn't. His Police instinct told him , there was something wrong .Romil was hiding something . She must have been watching the news . When he had seen the program , at first he thought it was his name sake but then just as the program ended he had been called by Romil. So it was indeed him. He had counted on her calling him ,if she had watched the broadcast. His sixth sense now active , told him that the Siddhartha in the program was the same Siddhartha. What should be his next step . Should he give Romil up. He wondered.
Sandeep sat in the rocking chair nursing a drink. He used to seldom drink and the servants in the house knew when sahib was drinking , he was either upset or planning something major. Jairam brought in ice and cold water . He kept it on the table and retreated quietly closing the door behind him. Sahib was drinking more than usual today. It was the second time, he had been called for ice and water. The bottle on the table was half empty.
Sandeep was happy in the morning when his boss had told him , that he was going to forward application for his transfer to Delhi. He had waited the whole day to tell Romil this news. He had come back in the evening and was about to call Romil when Anju Aneja had introduced her audience to the fourth person in the murder plot that had the nation aghast. Initially he had thought it was some one else, but then he had drawn a mental picture of Siddhartha when Romil had told him about Siddhartha. This person was a true copy of the picture. The same husky voice, the same boyish looks , the same built. Sandeep had calculated that if Romil saw the program, she would call him. A hunch had warned him . He had to act fast . Should he let go of Romil or do something to get rid of this intruder . He sat in his chair for a long time . Jairam entered the room and asked him about food. He carelessly flicked his head and said no. He wanted to kill Siddhartha for coming back in to his life. He had been trying to save this marriage for a long time now and in just half an hour ,he felt as if he was loosing the battle.
Romil was going to go back to him. He decided he was not going to loose Romil even if it meant destroying Siddhartha . He picked up the phone and dialed a number . It was an old friend from the training college in Hyderabad . After all he was the officer in charge of the case. The SSP Goa was an old batch mate.