Un Omicidio.

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2. The Night It Happened...!

It is raining heavily.  The humungous clock above the old building declared it is 12 in the midnight. It’s an empty boulevard drenched in the rain pouring down hard. It has been almost an hour since the rain started. As usual all the drainages have overflown and the water is getting logged on road, with nowhere else to flow to.
It’s a small shop which is open mostly during nights, when all the other shops are closed. Having a broken roof and a patched wall, it acts as a perfect disguise for all the illegal things that they do here. But it also has some essentials like water and few eatable. During night it is the only shop around which is open in the surroundings making it an obvious choice for the people to get in.
There is nobody except an old man walking, who is moving as if he has forgotten where to go. He seems lost and tired. His face covered with an old and torn out rag. Wrinkles on his face analogous to the number of years he has lived. Everything except his eyes seems to have lost enthusiasm. His eyes although has a sense of zeal. If you just look at his eyes you would love them, for their sheer focus and intensity. It’s as though his eyes are some sort of energy sources that it keeps him going.
He had this thing in his left hand. At first it appeared as though it is a part of his hand covered in shabby cloth. It was only when the old man reached the shop, Antonio, the shop owner could make out it is not a part of his hand. The sight of it started to give Antonio chilly feelings even though it was raining cats and dogs outside.
The old man had a hint of smile on his face, almost a shadow of grin. It was something the old man did then, that made Antonio scream. But nothing came out of his mouth but a frail cry. The thing in disguise under his arms was a sharp knife, shining in the little night that the shop could offer. And the old man was all set to swing the knife in his direction. Like a Lion which is taunting its prey, once knowing that the prey can’t move, old man was teasing him.
The night was getting into darker hours. Antonio could do nothing but look at the old man in utter distaste. Old man was pacing inside the shop with perhaps an intention to find something. After sometime he stopped and he was now looking straight into the eyes of Antonio, the shopkeeper. It was then that Antonio wished he had never set foot in Bengaluru. The kind of expression a man wears when he realizes that it’s going to be the end. He had already started to think about his family, his wife, son and the lovely daughter who made him want to live more. But it appeared as though it was all going to end.
‘A refugee Italian man was killed’ will make a short story in newspapers; no one would give a damn about it. Police will raid the shop, the same police whom he bribes every day to stay off, will get in and make a mess of his shop. The world will know about the things he sold in the shop. Perhaps the news won’t be just ‘A refugee Italian man was killed’, it would be ‘A refugee drug dealer was brutally murdered’.
The news would go on and describe how Antonio managed to sell drugs under the guise of a small shop. His beloved wife would know. Instead of mourning she will detest him. She would remember him for the rest of her life as man who sold drugs. Antonio struggled in desperate attempts to make things right. And then in a flash his eyes lit up.
                                                              ***
I came home late that day. It was raining and the traffic was way beyond the normal on road, the memories of the face yet fresh on my mind. Although I got it clarified from the commuter sitting next to me that he was not yelling my name, it was obvious for me that I had known that face. For a moment I thought I have known this face forever.  The instinctive fear that the mere face of that person evoked, put me in deep thinking. It was like watching a movie and then recognizing the actor in the movie in real life when you bump onto him, except my feeling was not as cheerful as meeting an actor can be.
Malvika, my wife opened the door on second bell. She was as lively as she is ever, full of life. Radiating absolute bliss from her eyes, she stood with her arms held wide open for me to get submerged. For a moment I felt like as if I have forgotten everything. Once I am in her arms, the world seems to collapse and fade away. But this incident took about an hour of her asking if everything was OK, running behind me. She would start the stories from her office and at intervals she would ask if I was fine.
I resisted telling her; partly because I was shy, she would laugh and other reason being I was not clear why I was afraid. If it’s just another face looking at me then it’s rather a thing to laugh at than to be afraid of. It’s the unknown fear that the face has created made me feel terrified. As every other thing, I ended up telling it to her. I can hardly resist telling everything to her. Her fingers in my hairs, searching for something not present there, me lying on her lap. At first she laughed and then looking at my face she decided better than to laugh at me.
It seemed forever before she opened her mouth, and when she did, I knew things she is going to say is not going to make me happy. When she had finished, it was raining again, with more intensity this time. Her hands around my shoulders clenched hard. I sat there with utter dismayedness.
                                                   ***
Antonio had an idea now. In all these moments he had never spent a thought about actually confronting the old man! He seemed weak and although he is not seen around often, he didn’t seem he could stand a fight. Antonio did not give much of time for his newly bred thought to grow and went onto execute it. He grabbed hold of an iron rod lying beneath him and tried to reach the man. The moment when he reached nearer, he came to know! His eyes wide open he kept on looking at him. The old man had a smile on his face. Now that the distance was less, Antonio could clearly see the man.


-By Srinidhi VN.

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