Authority and justice...

Hey!It's been real long since I wrote anything, plus in Hyderabad I have a lot of free time on my hand so I tried out my hand on a short story! Alright it ain't as smooth as you would expect it to be but well have a look and let me know if you like it. As for now 'am starting with the introduction of the plot. Tell me if you find it interesting or not... AND PLEASE DO COMMENT it encourages me to write further :). So now the beginning..



"The only way to reflect on one self is the mirror which has been so deeply and vaguely hidden that it takes a lifetime to remember where it is..."
‘Similar is the case of crime, but the only difference is the mirror is forcefully forgotten to kill the conscience’ - thought the detective. He stood on the edge of the bridge. The serenity of the place which surrounded him had no effect on him as he continued looking yonder. He forced himself not to get lost in the beauty of the place that enveloped him. His eyes seemed different than usual, they showed a slight hint of curiosity and anxiousness. It seemed as if he had lost his way...but he did so knowingly... "It is a beautiful place though" he said to himself as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, looking yonder as the dry river lane stretched to the horizon... somehow nature was finally able to deceive him....he was lost in it...

"Can you tell me the time when you saw him?" asked a stern voice. The voice was cold, it seemed as if it was devoid of any emotions whatsoever, a characteristic one can gain only after the most ruthless of experiences. But nothing less could be said about him, he was the best in business. He was feared as one of the most strategic guy around in his field. It was once said that this guy solely brought down an entire organization of drug lords, he and his faithful partner. However this situation was different for it involved his partner...

"I ... I came around to work at 7 early morning. I was going for my daily jog when ....when I saw something below" said the guy under interrogation. He seemed on his wit and was trying to stay as calm as possible which clearly was failing him. It was the same place as the detective once stood, but something was horrifically wrong.

The detective was found dead next day early morning when a jogger on his usual jogging trip saw something strange underneath the bridge his further investigation finally led him to a body, judging from the injury it seemed he might have fallen off the bridge. He was in a loss of words but gathered himself to call the police only to find his own self getting entangled in the investigation.

The detective whose body was found was the partner of this strategist, but more than a partner he was a brother. It was a loss too great to bear however even then when he spoke; the strategist did not so much as flinch at the sight of what had become of his oldest and most trusted friend. The day seemed to carry on as the investigations was severe for murder was also a legible option. However there were no signs that could have led to this belief. It seemed as if the detective had slipped... perhaps he really was lost in the aura of that place.

That night was one of the longest ones that the strategist had seen. It always had been an eternal fight between accident and murder for a scene of death. But this time it involved someone closer. No matter how much one tries one cannot completely forgo ones emotions but the strategist was a little different. His life so far had been interesting enough, his parents, whose death is still a question today, passed away at an early age. He was ten then and had a small sister. Their death too is a mysterious one. On an early summer night one of the many families living in the bustling city of Mumbai had an early dinner and soon slept off to face a new day. However that was not the case, both his mother and father were never to wake up again, it was as if they had passed away in their sleep. Reports showed that both died in an interval of an hour and no signs of crime could be sought. It was as if this young couple had set off to the other world together. The then young strategist was never able to console himself of their deaths to be natural. And hence came the decision of the strategist, ‘wherever there is a case of death, wherever murder is seen as a form of art he would bring the doer to justice’, for the same had brought terror in his family or so he thought. Till today he seeks the ones who killed his family but never speaks of it, for every time he did, it was considered as his insolence and his grief. And so he sought a promise till the day he finds his parents murderer he will not stop to bring the wrong to justice.

‘To bring my parents’ murderer to justice ...’ he smiled as it seemed so long ago that this had been the only thing that he wanted. So madly was he led by his own emotions that when he sought after his goal the world seemed right. His emotions of hatred and revenge had plunged him into this world where he saw nothing else but him and his dream. The only point where he came out of this world was with his little sister whom he had so preciously protected and cared for ever since his parents left them. And it was these emotions which soon led him to the place where he wanted to be. He was among the best, solving some of the most gruesome and intellectual cases. And for a time it seemed his life was on track until the day his sister came into the picture.

On a Sunday evening when everyone stood back and let go of their economical affairs he came back home from work only to find his sister missing. He was onto a huge case back then he was about to uncover one of the biggest drug smuggling trades one that could easily take him to the top. A letter asking him to leave the case had been left on his desk. The letter seemed to be very well crafted for each word used was taken from the newspaper and care had been taken so that the letter gave of nothing. He smiled when he read the letter. ”At least somebody knows who he is up against”. For it was the one of those few occasions where he got to see the delicacy and intricacy of a crime. It was something that he lived for. By then his mind only worked to see the intellect behind the crime and such incidences seemed like food for thought. However his smile vanished for it was her sister who was involved and that point of time he took one decision which would again change the course of his life. He decided to get her sister back...

It seemed reasonable enough if he were to think this but his mind worked a different walk. The conclusion was to get the criminals behind the kidnapping of his sister and only then would he be able to solve this case. The next morning he woke up at his usual time to get ready for work when he received a call from the inspector, his sister was found , they found her body in the sea with her throat was slit, it was also noted that three words were engraved on her hands saying “you were warned”...

It seemed like a day before he finally moved from the place where he stood when he heard the news. He silently walked towards the television and turned it on, took something from the fridge and ate silently, watching news like always... The next day he was at the office on time as usual, till now he had only missed one day of work and that was yesterday... But things were different from now on. There was nothing hasty about him he seemed calm as if in peace. The emotions which seemed to have taken control of him had finally let him go.

Emotions are considered to bring out the worst in a man. He proved it wrong. For the change had turned him cold from the inside out and there was no more remorse or guilt left in him. All whom he saw had the slightest of connections with the wrong were considered guilty in his eye and deserved punishment ...for forgiveness... was just another emotion.
Emotions... were guilty of her sister’s death and hence were abandoned.... For now justice had to be brought upon all irrespective of who he is and for that he would use only his conscience ... but somehow his conscience which had been greatly affected by this incident forgot the difference between what is right and what is wrong...

It is said that since then he had brought the toughest of criminals on their knees starting with the infamous smuggling trade exposure which wrote his name in history as one of the greatest detective and strategist around. However from that day till the now there was one guy who always understood him, who stood by his side irrespective of his ignorance towards him, a guy who befriended him, a guy who helped him uncover the infamous smuggling trade, a guy whose death was now another case for him tonight...

An Ode...

Since it's a season of blogging... I made up my mind to join in...me being a novice would love to know whether you liked the below or ..... not...... which i hope u don't :P. But anyways plz plz plz do comment if you read this and let me know a thing or two about the piece, criticism or compliments alike. If in any case you were wondering then the article starts .....now...

The echo of his footsteps were quite vague and seemed submerged in the luscious sway of the grass beneath a starry sky on a pleasant breezy night. It always was the place where he always wanted to come home to, the place where he was destined to come again and yet nothing about this epiphany of the past seemed similar to the earlier ones which certainly were most dear to him. Seemingly tired he decided to sit. It was a beautiful sight, the luscious green terrain stretched further until disturbed by a sudden array of trees surrounding the place... “Am I ever to see this again?” he thought to himself, the only consolence that he could give himself at that time was that he would. It made the sight bearable to say the least.

“Past” was the only thing that occupied him as he gazed at the stars, some might say that from far he could be mistaken for being interested in the wonders of the universe but he was far from it. It’s strange the realization of that something important only comes when you have to part from it. The many feelings and emotions that connects a place to us is somehow relevant at the very last and sadly there is nothing one can do about it but treasure those memories that he just realised in a box and store them away for one of those similar nostalgic nights. “Sigh....”, he tore some grass from the earth and let them loose as if measuring the way of the wind, the first noticeable movement he made since he sat.” Wonder what would their purpose be after they are torn from this place or am I just thinking too much?? How the hell am I relating myself to grass shreds??” thought he as the grass, silently, was blown away from his grasp. The silver orb in the sky looked beautiful and complete casting its magnificence onto his surroundings. Even the stars looked illuminated due to it or was it a mere illusion?? “An illusion, something that has been a part and parcel of my life. Yet all of it is in the past now and in this moment everything is forgiven”. The person seemed to have a smile on his face; it seemed that this encore in his head was enough to keep him mused as he continued gazing into the sky. “I wonder what a home is like. Always sought for a definition and as a child ‘where your mom and dad stay’ seemed to be just but time changes things and so does home... for me it will always be where someone thinks about you and cares for you, that’s what you really call home. Come to think of it I guess I have more than one now and somehow I think it’s gonna spread now”. It seemed well beyond time for somebody to be sitting at such a place but somehow this person was so mused with himself that time was least of his bother, he continued to sit. It was always a bad idea to leave and somehow he was supposed to face it at the earliest. “ I wonder what I will miss the most... the people on whom I depended on, the ones that I call friends or the place which made all of us, coming from such different places come together and think for each other or rather I should say create home .... “

“Dude!! What are you doing man?? Why are you here alone? You don’t wanna come along or what??” the voice seemed faint but he knew whose it was. “Guess it’s neither of them... it’s ‘me’ who created both whom I’ll miss the most. A new era starts at the end of every era ...so does at the end of this one” he thought to himself as he rose to acknowledge his friend. It was his final day in college.... he faced the world tomorrow...