Started at (K)nighted Men-Part 1

Contd from Many ways than one-Part 2

Barkhudar woh chai ayee,” he suddenly shouted out.


“He dies a natural death.”

The message stared back at him. The barking dog outside, now reduced to a whimper. And the now rather reticent alarm clock quietly ticked away in the silence of the room.

Was it so easy after all? He almost shook his head in negative. Something was amiss.

“Sudhaaa” he called out into the darkness of the night.


Was she really that old? She stared at herself in the mirror. With Rehan having taken the high road, options of all kinds were open to her. No more of the drama, the over possessive nature of arm candying him through parties. And the best of all, luxury of his finances still secure.

She threw back her head and laughed quietly.

“And what may I ask is so funny?” the man on the bed asked surprisingly.

“Tomorrow’s newspapers, honey. Tomorrow’s newspapers,” she replied smilingly.


With his warm cup of tea in one hand and another half burnt cigarette, Salim got down to the business of his duty. That was to catch the unspoken story of the night.

So mother had been home all day, a girlfriend somewhere lurking in the background, hours before an argument heard- probably the aforementioned girlfriend and yes that million dollar deal that couldn’t see the light of the day.

And all this surrounds a body lying cold for two hours with a bullet in his head.

He stared for the longest time at the ceiling. There was that little hazy yellow on it now, the sun had just started to rise against the horizon.

The stink in the room was another reminder of the passing hours.

“Did we get the photograph then?” he suddenly asked out loud.


Sudha stumbled out of the bed hearing her name. It was a little less than four and her husband was staring right back at her with those rather scary eyes.

Jee,” she stuttered.

“Did you or did you not call him in the evening today?” he screamed.

Jee,” she stammered.

“And where on earth did you disappear after that call?” he asked keeping his tone constant.

“The sabziwala came,” she was almost reduced to tears by now.


“Saheb, the photograph is missing,” the constable spoke with some fear.

“Ahha. Now we have a case! Ram Lal wrap up the report and send the body to postportem,” and with these words Salim sauntered out of the room.

contd. at No more charades-Part 4

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