by Amit Khan
“Shinaya darling,” Brinda spoke again. “You were doing everything according to your ideas…but I had laid my pawns in such a way that you were forced to think in that direction…the one that I wanted!”
I kept mum.
“Now dear, we come to the part of plan,” Brinda continued, “which took lots and lots of planning. Tilak Rajkotia’s murder! I had to inject you with that life insurance thing first.”
“How did you do that?”
“Don’t you remember…” Brinda said, “The call you received in penthouse? An insurance agent girl had called you. You found a big treasure that day, didn’t you? Secret of 50 crore rupees insurance was breathtaking, wasn’t it?”
“It was…”
“Well that girl calling you was me.”
My jaw dropped again.
“After finding out about insurance when you started planning Tilak’s murder, I was planning my next step. I went to police and narrated them a story my unfortunate life. You have heard that story in penthouse.”
I had to hold on to the metal grill to support myself.
“This was the magic I created,” Brinda said, “and I played my game as all of you were under spell of that magic. I have defeated you in such a way that you cannot even dream of. One more thing…”
‘Was there anything left?’ I wondered.
“Since I am alive, your marriage with Tilak Rajkotia becomes void. Now about that insurance money! 100 crores! Of course I get it dear! The unfortunate widow of Tilak Rajkotia. I must confess that you worked hard to make my plan successful. That success is now bearing fruits which I will enjoy.”
My mind was about to explode. Frustration, anger, hatred! It was brimming with all emotions.
I wished the metal grill was not there between us. I was in a mood to commit another murder.
Brinda’s murder – all over again, and this time for real.
“Now,” Brinda continued, “even if you narrate this story before police or even court it won’t make any difference. You cannot prove it. You don’t have evidence. And my dear, I have not done anything. Everything was done by you. So what are you really going to prove?”
●
I found myself back in my cell.
I was surrounded by darkness; nothing except darkness.
Brinda had left but her words were still with me. She had created a whirlwind around me. A whirlwind of conflicting thoughts!
Today, my mind was travelling back to the brothel on Foras Road…where I was born.
I was remembering my mother.
One by one I was remembering the faces of the men who made me aware that I was a girl. The filthy men who look at even ten-twelve year old girls as objects of sex.
I also remembered that dark monster of a man. The first man in my life; my first sex; or rather rape...I remembered how I had screamed when he undressed himself.
I remembered the musician in brothel with whom I had sex so many times on my own accord.
Today I feel…that no matter how much progress we do…being a girl is still a crime. Every man is looking for an opportunity to have sex. It’s just the sexual attachment that he wants. Nobody cares about her feelings.
I think it was my mistake.
I dreamt of a better future.
I was made for nightclub. That was my world. I should have stayed there all my life selling myself. One day I would have died. No matter how!
Every woman has a pre-ordained destiny.
Whether it is a call girl or a housewife; all she is expected to do is keep the bed warm. And even within walls of a home, is a woman safe? May be that’s why it is said that there is a woman in every prostitute and there is a little bit of prostitute in every woman.
My story ends here.
I committed some crimes; I was punished for them.
But don’t you think Brinda too deserved a punishment?
She was the biggest criminal.
I was just a puppet. She was making me dance to her tune pulling all the strings from behind the curtain.
Is it fair to punish a puppet and let the puppet-master get away?
How could Brinda be absolved of all her crimes? Just because there was no proof, no evidence against her?
Does lack of proof make a person innocent?
Is this what they call justice?
If this is the best law can do, then I spit over it.
I hate such law.
Enough…I am not writing anymore. My fingers are hurting.
If my story has reached my readers then I am a lucky person.
Anyway, I just want to tell you one thing honestly. Running after wealth is no good. The temptation is blinding. And then you might come across some ‘Brinda’ who might turn you in to a puppet!
●
EPILOGUE
I read Shinaya Sharma’s autobiography keenly and loosened my body on the revolving chair to rest my back.
I took off my spectacles and kept them on table.
I…I mean ‘Amit Khan’ who is speaking to you right now.
No doubt Shinaya Sharma had written the story in an interesting style. It was a page turner. I read it from start to finish in one go. While narrating story of her life, Shinaya had neither shown bias nor had she shunned from indignity. I saw the title she had scribbled on the top- ‘Naked Killer’ or ‘Autobiography of a Prisoner Girl’.
Not just the dramatic part…her story touched my soul. Shinaya Sharma was a murderer yet her character invokes sympathy.
That autobiography had reached me in a strange manner. Today, in the morning, I received a call from jailor of ‘Central Jail’.
“Can I speak with Mr. Amit Khan?”
“Go on,” I said, “you are speaking to Amit Khan.”
“Oh…sorry Amitji, I could not recognize you.”
“Never mind.”
“I am jailor of ‘Central Jail’,” he said, “There is a prisoner on death roll in our jail. She is your fan. She will be hanged today evening at five. She wants to meet you once before she dies.”
It was an extraordinary request.
I had met many of my fans. But I had never come across such an admirer that wanted to meet me before being hanged.
“That girl really wants to meet you, Mr. Amit,” Jailor said again. “If you can meet her for some time…it will be really a favour.”
“All right,” I said. “I will reach Central Jail by eleven o’clock.”
“Thank you…Thank you very much. I am really grateful to you!”
“Ok.”
●
Jailor straightaway took me to her cell. Usually there is a meeting section for that.
When I entered her cell, Shinaya Sharma was sitting on floor in a corner. When she heard me enter, she looked up.
Shinaya was exceptionally beautiful.
Her complexion was unique…She was blessed with blissful fairness with a tinge of saffron.
As soon as she saw me, I saw her face change. There was faint smile on her face and also a shade of recognizing me.
She had read my novels so she had obviously seen my images on back cover. It was not difficult for her to identify me. Her autobiography was kept nearby.
“Oh…you are here,” she stood up. “I was thinking…may be…you will not come.”
“No way,” I said, “I can never disappoint an admirer.”
I did not believe that this beautiful girl was on a death roll. She had committed crimes so grave that law found Hanging as the correct justice for her.
“This admirer of yours has very short time left. I am here till five in the evening. After that I meet my destiny. My life will be taken away from me. All this chaos of my life will calm down.”
“What crime were you involved in…” I asked curiously, “that you are being given such a harsh punishment?”
Shinaya Sharma told me about her crime in short.
It gave me goose bumps.
Four murders!
This angelic beauty ha
d killed four human beings!
“Mr. Amit, I want to ask you a question today.”
“What question?”
“You always write a line in your novels. You mention that even the most intelligent and prepared criminal leaves loose ends and is trapped by law.”
“Yes. I write that often,” I said, “and I completely believe in it. It is not just a line. It is the truth.”
She smiled wryly.
“Forgive me, Mr. Amit,” Shinaya Sharma said. “I should not have insulted you by smiling like that. The fact is your theory has perfectly applied to me and just me. I planned murders and I executed them to perfection. Yet I was trapped. But what about Brinda? She was the real player in this whole game. Everything was designed by her. Yet she did not have to undergo any trial. She was not judged; Just because law asks for proof. On proofs, evidence and witnesses stands the structure of law. There was no proof against her.”
I was speechless.
Shinaya Sharma was right.
No doubt, Brinda did not face punishment because there was no evidence against her.
“Mr. Amit,” Shinaya said, “If possible, please stop writing in your novels that ‘every criminal faces punishment’. Instead you should write that there are some intelligent criminals in this world who are successful in deceiving and misguiding law. Law cannot harm them.”
I did not reply.
Shinaya picked up her autobiography and offered it to me.
“I have written my story, Mr. Amit,” She said, “my dreams…my hopes…my crimes…every memorable moment in my life has appeared on these papers. You can help me reach the millions of readers, even after my death. My story will speak for me. I don’t have any evidence against Brinda. No court will admit my case. But I can take my case to readers and then they can decide- ‘who is the bigger criminal- Shinaya or Brinda’? They will know how law trapped one criminal and left the other untouched. If you help me in this task…it will be a great favour.”
I held the manuscript in my hand.
“Mr. Amit,” Shinaya continued, “will you take my story to the court of readers?”
“I will try my best.”
“Don’t just try,” Shinaya said, “promise me.”
“All right…I promise you.”
“Thank you…Thank you very much!” Shinaya held my hand and kissed it gently. “You don’t know how much this means…you have really taken a lot of burden off my heart. I will be happy that my story will reach millions of readers.”
I was looking at her face without blinking.
Six hours later she was going to be hanged. There was no fear on that face.
“Aren’t you afraid?” I looked in her eyes and asked. “You are about to die in a few hours.”
“No…I am not afraid at all,” she said, “in fact I am glad that my death won’t be as horrible as my mother. I regret just one thing.”
“What is that?”
“Few innocent people were murdered and their blood is on my hands. I should have fought my desires harder. I should not have killed those innocent people.”
“It was God’s will,” I sighed. “May God give you strength to bear this terrible blow!”
I consoled Shinaya Sharma by gently stroking her shoulder.
●
I finished tea and kept the cup on table.
I was in the Jailor’s office.
“This girl is a bit strange, Mr. Amit,” Jailor said. “With all the emotions inside her, it is difficult to believe that she has done four murders. And all four can be termed ruthless, cold blooded murders.”
“Can’t her hanging be stopped?” I asked jailor.
“I have tried from my side,” jailor said, “the girl is ready to accept her punishment. I tried to convince her that if she writes a letter to President…then I can try to get her punishment reduced from hanging to life imprisonment. She won’t even write that letter.”
“It’s not her mistake, jailor,” I explained. “When dreams are destroyed…character of a person scatters everywhere like lifeless pearls. This is where the person starts hating life and loving death. This beautiful girl is now in love with death.”
Jailor looked shockingly at me.
“I will take your leave now,” I stood up.
“Ok,” jailor also stood up and shook hands with me. “We will meet again.”
“Sure.”
“I walked out of Central Jail.”
●
After reading the manuscript of ‘Autobiography of a Prisoner Girl’, I kept it at one side of my table.
I was soaked in that mesmerizing story.
I looked at wall clock.
‘Four p.m.’
There was one more hour left before Shinaya Sharma’s hanging.
After reading the complete story, I became aware that there was absolutely no evidence against Brinda so that she could be arrested and tried in court.
Indeed she had planned everything to perfection.
So…will a criminal get away without punishment?
Living a life of freedom! Reaping fruits of crime?
The more in thought about Brinda…the more my mind protested.
Suddenly the wall clock struck five times.
I closed my eyes and slumped back on revolving chair.
Shinaya Sharma was hanged.
I did not sleep that night. Just kept on turning from one side to another restlessly.
I reluctantly got out of bed in morning. Newspaper had arrived.
I saw it…news of Shinaya Sharma’s hanging on front page.
There was another news right alongside in a box column. It was about Brinda. When Brinda was traveling down elevator in penthouse…somehow the cable broke and the lift came crashing down. Brinda died on the spot. Police found insurance company cheque worth 100 crore rupees in her vanity bag. She had received it that same day and she was going to bank to deposit it. She could not do it. She was not destined to enjoy those 100 crore rupees.
This news in box column brought a smile of satisfaction on my face.
My mental turmoil was over.
When the Law could not punish Brinda…Almighty decided to take matters in His hand. This is called divine justice.
From that moment on my conviction got stronger…a criminal is always punished.
Criminal always pays for his crimes.
As you sow…so shall you reap!
The End
