Delhi Elections-2015

ये अजब कमल-ए  इल्मी-ए शाजिया देखा.

ये अजब इल्म औ हुनर ए अय्यारी थी.

जहाँ गईं  फसाद-ओ शिकस्त बरपा  कर दी.

अब की बार बी जे पी की बारी थी  .

उलझन

                 

            

वाइज़  कहता  इबादत किया कर. 

बिरहमिन ये कहता  जपा कर जपा कर.

आसान   रहे  तकलीद  है, पर .

तबीयत को ये बात  भाती नहीं है. 

हाजी को हसरत है शराबों कि, हूरों की. 

पंडित गाता   कथा गोपियों  की.  

क्या तीरथ औ  जिआरात से उन्हें ये मिलेगा ?

मगर मैं तो खुश हूँ,  अभी  जो मिला है.                

मैं इंसान हूँ सीधा सा भोला भाला.  

जीवन में तवक्को है आसानियों की. 

मुझे क्यों धमकाते है तेरे ये दल्ले. 

हसरत नहीं   फिलसफों पर  बहस की.  

अर्शें बरी है  तू  इंसान का अब्बा. 

रहीओ करीम है तू  इंसान का अब्बा. 

मगर हमसे  फिर  क्यों मुकाबिल नहीं है. 

गमो औ खुशी में तू  शामिल नहीं है. 

इजाज़त जो गर दे तो सच सच  बता दूं. 

डरता हूँ वाइज़ क्या कहेगा, बिर्हमिन क्या करेगा.

डरता हूँ तुझसे भी, कि   तू क्या करेगा.

दोज़ख में मुझ पर सितम ही करेगा.  

नसीबे कि गर्दिश को मैं झेलता हूँ. 

तूफानों की शिद्दत से भी  जूझता  हूँ.

वाइज़, तेरा  तो   बनता है बातें.  

दुनिया के झगड़ों  को  मैं जानता हूँ. 

जीवन की  सोजिश न निर्वाण में है. 

मुक्ति में आसार -ए- बोरियत  है.  

तेरे  फैसलों  की वजह मैं न जानूं. 

कयामत के डर से मैं सुन हो चला  हूँ. 

 बैठे अर्श पर तू   देखे है तमाशा.  

फर्श की हकीकत को क्यों जान पाया. 

बिरह्मिन-ओ  वाइज़ को  गमश्ता बनाया. 

बशर को पापी औ मुज्रिन बताया. 

जो कुछ भी होता है तेरी रज़ा   है.  

सभी कुछ में  बस तू ही नुमा है. 

तो ,  जो गुनाह है, तेरा  किया है. 

इन्सान क्यों  मुजरिम का दर्जा दिया है. 

फिर, ख्याल क्यों ना आए  तू कहीं भी नहीं है. 

माना कि गुलगूं का तरफदार हूँ मैं. 

क़ाज़ी का  मज़लूम -ओ  मजबूर  हूँ मैं.  

रहबर है तू गर,  राहज़न  मैं    नहीं हूँ. 

गुनहगार, मानोगे,  हरगिज़ नहीं हूँ.

हम हैं गवाह

     क्या कहते हो ! क्या जाना औ क्या देखा. 

     हम ने ही तो सब कुछ देखा .

     जलवों ने तो बस क्या देखा .

     जो कुछ देखा हमने देखा .

 

     जापान में चाय गठखते  .

     ड्रम पीटते मोदी देखे .

     रेस कोर्स में उनको देखा .

     राहुल को ललचाते देखा .

 

     मूंछों  वाले भगवत देखे.

     मुंडे मूंछ अरुण भी देखे .

     सोनिया को संजीदा देखा .

     सूजे मुंह  सुषमा को देखा. 

 

     बच्चों पर मुलायम देखे .

     बच्चिओं पर वो भारी देखे. 

     अम्मा दीदी भड़के भड़के .

     जन जन हैं  माया के वश ,

 

         किन किन को चिल्लाते देखा .

 

     गन्दी बहती गंगा देखी .

     सूखी सूखी  यमुना  देखी.

     परबत थे गंजे गंजे, बरखा ढाये क़यामत गोया.   

     भक्तों को दुखियारा देखा .

That Night

                   It was raining cats and dogs when he came out of the flat to go to the railway station, a few kilo metres from his residence. It was difficult to see beyond a few metres. In the back ground of the light from the lamp post he could make out the rain was falling in curves, bending with the wind as it grew stronger or straightening when it relented a little.  The rain getting in to his eyes did not make it any easier to see. There was one rickshaw, with its owner curled-up in it, parked near the lamp post. He hailed the rickshaw puller whom he persuaded to take him to the station by promising to pay many times the normal fare. The rickshaw moved slowly, its progress retarded due to the heavy rain and strong wind.

                   It took him almost an hour and half to reach the station, completely drenched and a bit cold. The station, in spite of the inclement weather was crowded and he had had to jostle along to reach the ticket window. He asked for a ticket to Delhi by the train leaving, shortly, via Kanpur and Aligarh, for old Delhi station. He purchased the ticket and then there was another round of pushing and shoving to get away from the window. He took the over bridge to go to the platform number three where his train was parked. He leisurely looked for, found and entered in to the compartment. He found a seat for himself and shoved his bag under the it. He took out his handkerchief to wipe an enormous amount of water which he carried on his person. He managed it as best he could with his small handkerchief. He saw another person in black outfit in the compartment. He nodded to him and remarked, “What an awful evening?” To this the other person mumbled something, maybe, in agreement but hardly audible.

             He was hungry. He opened a window to find out if he could get something to eat and was greeted by a spray of water. He closed the window hurriedly. He ambled up to the door and opened it a little so that he may not receive another shower. He peeped through the partly open door and saw a vendor. The vendor wet and struggling to cover soggy samosas with polythene sheet though his samovar was in the open and the fire underneath it had been reduced to smoke. He asked for tea and samosas and was served some lukewarm muddy tea and wet samosas. He carried them to his seat and offered to share the dinner with the person in the black who refused the offer. He, then, sat down to devour his sordid dinner.

                  The train was already late and there was no sign of it leaving the station. The sundry travellers were sauntering in to the compartment, unhurried, before setting down. Another half hour passed before the train whistled. Though the train did not move it appeared to induce the passengers into activity. There was a rush into the compartment. Hitherto, indolent passengers moved into the compartment quickly pushing others, aside. There were lone travellers as well as families, young men and women who all made a bee line to the few coveted benches which were soon filled. The compartment was now occupied by more number of people than it was fashioned for. Though, passengers squeezed themselves into the compartment, many would have to travel standing. 

             And then, without any notice, the train lurched forward and stopped. It carried out the manoeuvre a few times before it put on some speed. In the mean while the passengers were settling down, some on the benches, others on the floor and a few were standing. Those who had managed to get some space to sit were pushing their neighbour to yield some more space which effort was being thwarted by the other person.

                   Our friend who had braved the storm to catch the train to Delhi was now well settled for the long and obviously uncomfortable journey ahead. There was no way to stretch oneself in the crowed train; indeed there was no space to change one’s position and sleep was impossible in the bustle.

                   He found himself seated next to the man in the black whom he had seen when he had entered the compartment and, therefore, had known him the longest among all the others passengers. A good reason, he believed, to start a conversation with him and reduce the tedium of the journey.

“Where are you going?”

He received no answer. “Ah! This train is going to Delhi; so you could not be going anywhere else. That was silly of me”. He guffawed without mirth, to hide his embarrassment. The two neighbours did not address each other for some time. It was becoming oppressively intolerable for him to travel, in the distressing condition, without the benefit of companionship. He made another attempt at conversation.

“Where do you live in Delhi?”

This time the attempt did not go in vain

“I do not live in Delhi.”

The reply encouraged him to continue.

“Then where do you live.”

                   It was evident that the other was not particularly enjoying the conversation or in a mood to socialise.

“Oh! Never mind; No where you would know.”

“How can you say that, I am quite well travelled?”

“But not where I live.” And perhaps to deflect the course of conversation asked, “Where do you live, in Delhi or in Lucknow?”

“I live in Lucknow, River Bank Colony, in the D block. Mine is the first house in the block, in front of the house of the famous doctor, Dr. Sharma. Do you know him?” He enthusiastically volunteered a lot more information than was needed. He wished to keep the conversation going.

“No I do not know him. I do not go to doctors.”

“Well it is nice that you enjoy good health. But tell me of a man who has never been sick, some or the other time. We all fall sick and need to consult a physician. Even if you do not need to visit a doctor, someone else, in the family, may need a doctor’s services. What I say is that it is best to keep one prepared for any crisis. Keep note of the clinic and the residential addresses of good doctors in town and keep their phone numbers handy. Yes sir! This is what I do.”

                   The other man was obviously was not interested in the wise counsel but did not join issue. He merely remarked, “No, I don’t,” and looked the other way to indicate that the exchange was over.

                   He shrugged his shoulder in a way to indicate, to anyone who might have been observing the twosome, that he bore no responsibility for early demise of the discussion. It had happened in spite of his best his best effort and keen desire to prolong it. He looked out of the glass window. He could not, though the fury of the storm had abated, somewhat. The train was not moving at its normal pace. The visibility had not improved enough for the driver of the train to raise the speed to normal. He closed his eyes so as to snatch some sleep. He must have dozed for he was roused up from his slumber by fearsome noises and cries of the passengers. There was pandemonium in the compartment which was lurched at an obtuse angle. Passengers were screaming, some were obviously hurt, some more than the others. The luggage was all over. People were trying to get out of the compartment, all at once and in the course not letting anyone out. The train had met with an accident while he had dozed.

The man, in the black, assumed command of the situation. Without a word, he pushed away those obstructing the passage with considerable force. He motioned the ones at the door to go out and clear the way for the others and to receive the wounded, the old, the children and the women. After the wounded, the old, the children and the women has been evacuated, with a wave of his hand, he motioned the men to go out, one at a time. He was the last to come out.

                   Some villagers had arrived at the scene when they saw the accident. They were now being supervised by the man in the black in attending to the injured. Some had brought food which was given to the passengers of the ill fated train. A little later some order had been established. The injured were carried and those who could walk were encouraged to do so and taken to the comparative safety of the nearby village. The man in the black supervised it all. When all the passengers had been taken care of, our friend from Lucknow and the man in the black remained behind, to look after the baggage of the passengers. they were the only individuals who had escaped unscathed. They sat down awaiting arrival of the police and the railway rescuers to hand over the charge of the site to them.

Anticipating long dreary wait, our man from Lucknow made another attempt at banter.

“When I told you that it was an awful evening, I could not have contemplated that it would be so horrid.”

There was no response.

“It is so dark and not a soul in sight, on top of it, the trauma of the accident; I am scared.” There was yet no response.

“It is scary and stultifying. Come on man! Speak up. Say something to lessen the melancholy.”

This desperate appeal too did not elicit any reaction.

“This scenario is just apt for the stories of ghosts.”

The man in the black stared hard at the speaker but still did not utter a word.

“Do you believe in Ghosts?” asked the man from Lucknow and laughed without conviction.

The man in the black dissolved in the dark.

The Dilemma

Officer Sant Ram, a police officer of friendly disposition, posted at the police station at Delhi University was an uncomplaining man. Though, after more than two decades of service, he could not secure a promotion, he had neither lost hope nor was bitter with his superiors. However, when at last, Commissioner Kaul promoted him and posted him to the gole market station, Sant Ram and the commissioner had different opinions in the matter. Sant Ram was happy. His faithful diligence recognized, his due right conceded and honour restored to him. The commissioner, however, sometimes when in reflective mood, conceded to himself that he had allowed, in a state of confused ambivalence, his heart to rule over his head. Be as it may, he thought, “What if Sant Ram has entirely modest ability for police work? What, if he has never solved a case? He is a good man and police do need to project gracious image to the public.” The commissioner cleared his conscious with these thoughts and went in to superannuation.  True, as the erstwhile commissioner had noted, Sant Ram was no great shake as a cop but was a good man. He made friends easily. His affable manners, easy laugh and desire to be helpful stood him out in the midst of general apathy of many other officers. It was during this period of his career when he was attached to the university police station that he had come in close contact with the upcoming trio of student politicians with whom we are presently concerned.

Rani was the daughter of a clerk, in the ministry of home, department of raj bhasha. She was the treasurer of the students’ union. Wheat like in complexion and a little corpulent in build, Rani had the attraction of youth. She was a source of, both, attraction and completion among her politically inclined circle of male friends. She was ambitious and knew how to use her charms to her advantage. Though she had many admirers, Matloob and Sudesh were the only two, she considered worthy of her sustained interest. They received her favours more often though not frequently. In the circle of the young politicians at the university, it was enviously conceded that these two had bright future, once they completed their apprenticeship at the university and the joined the mainstream political parties. Sudesh was much ahead of Matloob. He had already established himself with some ministers in the local government. Matloob was younger of the two, junior in the university politics and merely a member in the union executive. Sudesh was bumptious, morose and profane and Matloob was roguish, unforgiving and profane. There was still time to make her choice. Rani was not inclined to narrow her options yet.  She concentrated on the political work, passing the final of the law examination was only a subsidiary issue

Matloob, the son of a local merchant had no interest in perusing studies. His father was a prosperous semi literate businessperson, resolute in his resolve that his only son received good education and thence admiration of his community. His father, through coercive blackmail, had persuaded Matloob to continue studies. Matloob had to submit to the perverse demand; apprehensive of the consequence of defiance, he had joined the university. He found much-coveted sojourns with Miss Rani more to his taste rather than the tedious oratory of the university dons. His tryst with Rani were occasional because Rani was busy with political work beside Matloob was not her only lover. He was aware of this but had hoped to persuade Rani to marry and settle with him, eventually. He was utterly in love with her.

Sudesh Kumar was a son of prosperous farmer in the village near Khurja. His father was headman of his village. Sudesh nurtured political ambitions. He had joined the faculty of law. He was also a member of the political party ruling Delhi. The admission to the university law college accorded respectability and the opportunity to participate in the university politics. The membership of the political party let him mix with important political big wigs. He needed party backing to enter into the political arena in a big way. The political big bosses too needed young men like him to do their work, both, dirty and not so dirty. In return, they provided him with money to fight the university election, the eventual ladder to state politics. Sudesh had been the secretary of the union and this year had been elected the President.

Kavita was young lissome girl, slender of build. She was of medium height and attracted attention. She was the daughter of peon in the local government. Easy in appearance and rather plain of manners, she had not joined the university to augment her learning. She had joined the Hindi honours course waiting for a husband. In lively moments, she fantasized about a handsome and rich beau who would fall in love with her, and claim her as his own, against the wishes of his family and social circle. She was always animated after a visit to the local theatre running a Hindi movie. In sober moments, she hoped to complete the course so that she would be able to take up a job in some local school, which would augment her pursuit. She met Sudesh at the union office and being a practical person did not allow her flight of the imagination to overwhelm her, instead she decided that she would settle for him. A bird in hand is recommended to be better than two in the bush. She immediately set forth to attract and then acquire him. Soon they began to meet often though marriage was not discussed between the two; it was too early, yet. Kavita decided that she would take up the issue at the appropriate time. Eventually she did broach the subject of marriage. Sudesh expressed delight, all the same, wanted to wait until he was out of the university and settled. He had had to have sufficient income to sustain a family. Until then she had to wait. She considered the situation and concluded that she had enough hold on him and accepted the prudence, convinced that they would unite, sooner than later.

In time, Sudesh and Rani decided to marry. Rani because Sudesh had emerged as an important party man unambiguously poised for ascent to the higher rungs of the party and Sudesh because Rani too had not done badly herself. She was active in the women’s’ wing of the party and, more importantly, had been able to establish liaison with the state chief of the party and a junior minister in the union cabinet. The two complimented each other in their political careers. Their marriage was of convenience not a bonding in tender adoration. If there was loneliness within the union, they were willing to pay the price to advance their political careers.

However, their coming together had saddened Matloob but he reconciled to the reality of the situation, though, the pain would surface occasionally. He could not forget the betrayal entirely. He married his cousin Jamila as willed by his father. There is government accommodation in the gole market area, which is allotted to the junior officers of the government. The allottees often sublet the premises. Matloob, like Sudesh before him, hired one such flat and settled with his wife. He would sometimes come across Sudesh and his wife. In such circumstances, they would feign no to have noticed each other.

In spite of his marriage, about which Kavita would never know, Sudesh did not end his relationship with Kavita. He had paid for a flat beyond the ITO Bridge for Kavita. He would meet her there, discretely, whenever he had the time. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find time for rendezvous as he was ascending the party ranks and because he would avoid the visit when many could see him. However, overtime the arrangement was going kaput. Kavita, his mistress for many years was becoming impatient and suspicious. There had been, on several occasions, angry arguments between them. She was now rancorous and threatening. She had served notice upon him that she would not permit the marriage to be deferred any more. Sudesh tried all the means at his disposal to reconcile with her. He cajoled, threatened and even offered money to keep her quiet but to no avail. He found himself in a precarious position.

On the fateful day, he rose up in the morning thinking of Kavita and the problem she was creating. Some definite plan to solve the issue was taking shape in his mind, which agitated him. He went out for a long walk. It calmed him for some time. He returned and had late breakfast with his wife. He then told her that he was going out on party work. He said if anyone phoned for him, she was to inform the person that her husband was resting because of headache could not be disturbed. He came out of his house and walked to where he had parked his. He climbed into it and dove off.

Sudesh drove to the residence of Kavita whom he found in a foul mood. Before she could give expression to her latent thoughts, Sudesh proposed that they drive out to lunch and finalise the date for the marriage ceremony. He insisted that the marriage would have to be a short affair with only the close relatives in attendance. He was a political leader and had to set god example for others to follow. He would not approve of ostentation. That set the mood for the day. Kavita was not just reconciled but pleased. She had not expected the matter to be resolved so easily. She was contrite too. She had needlessly suspected Sudesh of bad faith. She got ready and together they drove off for the outing.

They drove for some time happy in the company of each other and then late in the afternoon turned back to return to Delhi. After Ghaziabad and before Sahibabad, he turned in to a Kutcha road as he said, he had to pay some money, to his old servant. There was a lone hut half a kilometer away from where the village settlement ended. Sudesh stopped the car in front of the hut. A man of about fifty years of age appeared at the door. He greeted Sudesh and deferentially touched his feet. He led the two inside the hut. Sudesh asked him how he was doing. There upon the man sought divine blessings for Sudesh and his family. By the grace of god and the benevolence of his masters, that is, Sudesh and his family, he said, he was doing fine. He earned enough to keep his body and soul together by baking bread in his tandoor, the earthen oven, for the clients nearby and the gratuity, which he received from the family of Sudesh, took care of medical needs and any unforeseen expenses. There was a stool in the hut that the servant  offered to Kavita to sit.

This visit was not as innocuous as may appear to you from the above narrative. Some preparation had already been made before hand for what had to be accomplished that day. Kavita sat down intently listening as the old man related his story. Sudesh who was a step behind her moved in and hit her on the head. She sprawled out. Sudesh caught her by feet and hauled them up leaving her dangling upside down. She was scared but she struggled. She put her hands on the earthen floor and wriggled her body to loosen his grip but the other man came up and holding by her hands, kicked her in the face. Together they lifted her and put her in to the oven. She was still struggling when head long, she was forced in to the oven, her bruised hands scraping the round wall of the oven. She cried but her voice was feeble. The Old man and Sudesh shoved earth on her and in to the oven while pushing her in to the oven. The two were too powerful for her. Her resistance failed and she lost consciousness. The duo pushed her in so that she was entirely settled in the oven. Together they then filled up the oven with earth. The older man laid bricks on the top and plastered it with cement so that it looked like a raised platform. In time, he will use it for keeping the earthen pot for storing drinking water.

No one ever was likely to look for the deceased in that forlorn part of the district, the criminals perceived.

The old man was composed. He did not know who the woman whom he had buried just a while ago. He was not interested in the futile knowledge. He had undertaken many bizarre errands for his masters. The younger man was not so toughened, yet. He had committed a crime because he had to save himself from certain loss of career. However, he was no murderer, besides he had lost his mistress whom he had come to accept as part of his life. It had, in some nook of his being caused a numbing emptiness. He was scared too. He was shaking with fright and his mind was numb with trepidation. The old man reassured him as well as he could and helped to his car. Sudhesh got in to it and drove back. He found driving grueling but he managed. He drove back to the ITO Bridge and from there drove to the Connaught place. He was hungry and exhausted. He got in to the inner circle and parked his car near the embassy restaurant. He went in and ordered light meals, which he finished unhurriedly. It calmed him. He paid the bill, went back to his car and drove to his house. Near his house, he stopped at the chemist’s shop to buy pack of dispirin and went home.

Matloob had seen Sudesh coming towards his car but did not attempt to draw his attention or greet him. Their relationship had almost dried after the marriage of Sudesh with Rani. Matloob ignored him and strode away.  He walked past the house of Rani and Sudesh. He walked past his on flat and then on to the tri-junction near the Birla mandir. He took a turn to right and walked past the police station then the girls’ school and up to where the mandir road joins the panchkuiyan road. He then decided to return. When he was passing in front of the police station, he was accosted by a familiar voice. He looked up and saw sub inspector Sant Ram calling his, very cordially.

“Hello Matloob Bhai! How are you? Long time no see. Come in to my office and have a cup of tea with me.”

Though, not feeling the need for tea, yet not willing to snub the kindly officer, Matloob went along with him into his office. Sant Ram ordered two strong cups of tea, prepared from cardamom, ginger and tealeaves for the two of them. He settled in his chair and motioned Matloob to take the chair in front of him. The phone rang up. It was a call from this boss who wanted Sant Ram to speak to his old acquaintance, Sudesh, for some favour. Sant Ram told Matloob about the request of the boss and excused himself to make the phone call to Sdesh. Matloob thoughtlessly remarked that he had seen Sudesh drive away. Nevertheless, Sant Ram dialed the phone number of Sudesh. Rani picked up the phone and told him that her husband was resting and could not be disturbed. Sant Ram said that he would phone later and informed his boss that he would phone Sudesh later in the day. Sant Ram and Matloob chitchatted over a cup of tea and then Matloob bid good-bye to the officer and left. He retraced his walk all the time thinking why Rani had told the officer a lie. He knew that Sudesh had left by his car for some place.  He was now walking near the house of Rani. He had an impulse visit her. He went up to the door of the house and pressed the bell. Rani, in her nightgown and with a towel wrapped round her neck was preparing for a bath. She opened the door to him. Seeing the improbable caller, she said,

“Oh! It’s you. What do you want?”

“I was passing by and decided to come to say hello to you. It has been long time.” He ignored the derision of the remark. He wished to appease her. He had the urge to revive old association.

“Well! hello. My husband is not well and I am busy.” The dismissive indifference in the tone of his erstwhile love infuriated him and he could not control his frenzy. He picked up the bronze statue of Natraj, decorating the mantelpiece and brought it down on the head of Rani with full force. Rani fell down. He then pulled the ends of the towel to choke her and let it go only when she was dead. Matloob pulled the sofa cover loose and wiped himself of blood, which had dribbled on to his hand. He then walked out of the house, unnoticed, closing the door behind him. He went back to his flat. He had to take his child to the pediatrician.

Sudesh opened the door of his house with the duplicate key. What he saw left him aghast. He saw Rani sprawled across on the carpet in the drawing room. There was clotted blood on the head, which had set her hair in the grotesque style. Her face had been bloodied red and some blood had dripped on to the carpet. There was a rumpled blood soaked sofa cover lying on the floor. The woman was dead. Sudesh was flummoxed with this fresh encounter with death. He picked up the phone from the peg table and rang up sub inspector Sant Ram at the police station. Sant Ram picked up the phone. He said,

“I am delighted to receive your call. I have to request you for a favour on behalf of my boss. I had phoned in the morning. Your wife informed me that you were not well and resting. How are you now, old boy? Sudesh cut him short.

“Rani has been murdered, Will you please come immediately?’

“Oh! Shocking. When? How? I am coming.”

The officer ordered Genda Singh, the constable attached to him, to accompany him to the scene of crime. They drove to the house of Sudesh on the motor cycle of Sant Ram with Genda riding pillion. On arrival, Sant Ram consoled the bereaved husband and sat him down on the sofa. He took charge of the investigation with Genda in the tow. He examined first the victim who was quite dead. Then he turned his attention to the scene of crime. He asked Genda to call in the photographer and the forensic team. He them came back and sat next to Sudesh.

The officer spoke softly, “No break-in. A friendly entry made by the murderer known to the deceased. Nothing of value removed; burglary not intended.” He turned to the husband,

“I offer to you heartfelt sympathy. Nevertheless, I must ask you a few questions. We do not want the culprit to escape the consequence of his dastardly deed, now, do we. Action without delay is vital.”

“Yes. Of’ course”

“When was this discovered?”

“I returned sometimes back entered the flat and saw this.”

Your wife told me that you were not well and resting.

“Well, I mean I was in the house.”

“But did you not say that you returned from somewhere and discovered the crime only when you returned?”

“I was at home.”

“Then how is that you heard nothing; a cry for help; struggle for life; a sound of a person falling; nothing. Your wife did not call out for help?”

“Well actually I did go out.”

“Then you did go out. Matloob told me that he had seen you drive away.”

Sudesh gulped, he had no intention to alert the police about where he had been, “I was here, I mean; I did not go out, I mean; I just stepped out to buy some dispirin. I went out for a few minute only; about half hour ago.”

“Then you were here except for when you went to buy dispirin?” The officer was becoming wary of the flip-flop.

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Then how is that you did not notice the crime earlier.  It appears to me that the crime was committed several hours ago.

“Well as I said I was not…” Sudesh was at a loss. He did not know which will be more damaging, to say where he had been or to continue the yarn of convalesce at home.

“If you were not here then where were you?” asked the officer, somewhat, compellingly this time.” He got no answer.

Sant Ram cautioned him, “Where were you, here or elsewhere. Come clean or will be courting trouble.”

“I did not murder her. Honest. I swear to god. I did not do it.” Sudesh replied in terror-stricken voice. Sudesh began to sob bitterly. The outburst of fright set him thinking on another course.

Sant Ram’s perspective of the event began to transform rapidly. He mull over the situation afresh. Sudesh was lying through his teeth. There was a  woman murdered in the house. Her husband, recuperating from headache in a room close by, was claiming ignorance of events. He was not willing to account for his movement during the day. Sant Ram, an officer of limited talent was not to be taken in this time. Affable as he was, Sant Ram was not a derelict officer who would shy away from his duty and allow a murderer to escape from justice.

          It was his first important case, also

“I arrest you for the murder of Mrs. Rani Kumar.”