The Nidhi Kapoor Story

by Saurabh Garg

  Rujuta opened the door to Nidhi’s room and looked at her. Nidhi was sitting on the windowsill in her bedroom. She was smoking a cigarette leisurely. A .500-caliber Smith and Wesson Magnum was lying next to an open pack of Stikk and an ashtray. The gun, easily identifiable because of its characteristic long, chrome muzzle, was a favorite among hand-hunters. It was registered in Nidhi’s name. The music dock on the reading table wafted out old Hindi music. Oddly, it was Prakash’s favorite track from Pyasa.

  Nidhi acknowledged Rujuta’s presence by merely looking up at her. Rujuta’s eyes were ablaze with the knowledge that she was looking in the eyes of a murderer.

  Nidhi could feel the anger seething in Rujuta. On the contrary, Rujuta could not decode any emotions in Nidhi’s eyes. There was no remorse, no apologies. The eyes were indifferent. There was a hint of acknowledgement but that was all that she gave away.

  Rujuta had thought that Nidhi would make an attempt to defend herself. Or at least take some sort of evasive action. But Nidhi did nothing of the sort and remained sitting at her place. Rujuta wondered how someone could stay so calm after doing the inexplicable things that Nidhi had done. Rujuta had a million things going through her head. She felt that she needed to calm down before she could speak with Nidhi. She put a cigarette in between her lips and fumbled for a lighter. Both Rujuta and Nidhi realized at the same time that Rujuta did not have one. Nidhi got up from the windowsill, walked slowly to where Rujuta was standing. She craned her neck towards Rujuta’s. Rujuta could smell a faint lavender perfume that Nidhi was wearing. Rujuta strained her neck to allow her cigarette to meet Nidhi’s. The two women, each gorgeous in her own right, were so close for the first time since they had made an acquaintance a few weeks ago. None of them was aware about other’s life back then and yet, the looming conversation was to decide the course of action that their lives would take on from here.

  The two Stikks kissed each other precariously. The amber baton of life slowly passed from Nidhi’s to Rujuta’s. The faint orange glow grew brighter and the thin paper burnt gloriously. Rujuta inhaled into her Stikk. The light between the two Stikks got murkier, to a darker shade of crimson, and a fresh smell of burning tobacco filled the air around them. Rujuta moved away and blew out a cloud of smoke. Nidhi walked back to her windowsill and sat next to the ashtray and the Magnum 500. Her gait was slow and measured.

  The two women continued to smoke in silence. Measuring each other. Looking at each other. Seeping in the sights and sounds around them. The tape had moved onto other hits from Guru Dutt.

  After a while, Nidhi crushed her cigarette in the ashtray and her fingers brushed the cold muzzle of the gun. She tentatively picked it up and started to fiddle with it. Rujuta looked at it but wasn’t alarmed. She knew that Nidhi wasn’t going to harm her. If she had to, she would’ve done so by now. Unless she was a cold-hearted killer bitch. She could very well be.

  Rujuta had a lot of questions for Nidhi. She was mentally prepared to find a reason to be sympathetic to Nidhi and help her when she eventually went through the imminent long trial. Nidhi was all of twenty seven and had a long life ahead of her and she could definitely do with some help. Rujuta took some time to find her words, but when she started to speak, Nidhi interrupted her.

  “I am sorry for Prakash. I did not mean to hurt him. I merely wanted to distract the two of you, to get you off my tail for a few days so that I could do what I had set out to. It had taken me almost ten years to plan and execute this. I could not let anyone come in between and stop me. To be honest, I think I had him fooled. If not for you, he would have never ever suspected me. You know… I… I saw the car tumble down the hill. I saw you making the phone call. To the police, was it? I really admire your courage Rujuta. You are very brave. You were so calm, so composed back there. Cold and solid. Like, like this gun.” Nidhi pointed the gun towards Rujuta.

  She paused, took in a deep breath and continued, “You know, I would’ve done the same. I would’ve reacted exactly like that. Oh, and the car? It’s parked at my Khandala house. You’d find it parked in the bungalow.” Nidhi smiled feebly, broke her long monologue and took a break to light another cigarette.

  Initially, Rujuta did not comprehend what Nidhi had implied. Speed was not her forte. But once her brain absorbed the data points, she eventually came to the conclusion. She twisted her neck to her left, the way she would when she was thinking. When it dawned on her that it was Nidhi who had pushed the car down the ravine, she shuddered.

  She was now looking at Prakash’s murderer. Even though Rujuta was trying hard to not display any emotions at the mention of Prakash, her eyes clouded involuntarily. She knew this was the last time she was getting emotional about Prakash. She now had closure. She let the lone tear roll down the side of her cheek onto the thick carpet padding the floor of the room. It did not make any sound when it fell. Everything was silent. Silent like the nights when Prakash and Rujuta headed out on their nightly excursions. Silent like it was after the car had landed in the abyss. Silent like the time when she stood under the shower naked when she reached home after the accident. Just that her heart was wrenching with pain and was screaming in agony. Screaming out loud. Loud like the uproar Prakash’s bike made when Prakash and Rujuta went out for their nightly sojourns on the roads of Mumbai. Loud like the noise of metal against rocks that the car made when it was going down the cliff. Loud like her deafening moans in her shower when she knew that Prakash was not coming back.

  She had made it the mission of her life to find Prakash’s murderer and here she was. Staring into the eyes of the murderer. She could simply snatch the gun from Nidhi and pump all five rounds of the Magnum 500 into her gut. Or she could choose to trust the judicial system and get Nidhi arrested.

  Nidhi looked at Rujuta and was surprised. She did not think that Rujuta was the one to shed silent tears like that. “I am really sorry,” she said, “you loved him, no? I did not mean to separate the two of you, but it was important for me to do it. I had to complete the mission that I was on. It was going to be my masterpiece.”

  Rujuta looked up and nodded slightly. Nidhi’s expressive eyes suddenly went sad. Her insolence suddenly changed into resignation. Her shoulders slumped and she looked ready for doing a long time at the prison. Very few crimes were more serious than the murder of a police officer on duty. If not death by hanging, the most severe punishment prescribed in the Indian Penal Code, Nidhi was looking at a life sentence at least. It was a different matter that she would be out on parole in less than six months.

  Before she could do anything or say anything, Nidhi spoke again. “I have written everything in my diary. I want you to read it.”

  Nidhi walked to the table where the dock was playing music from the 50s and 60s. She retrieved a thick, old journal from the table and leafed through it. “I want you to read it and you would know why I did what I did. I had to, Rujuta. I had no other option.”

  It was a thick diary and it was dog-eared at some places. Rujuta took it reluctantly. While she was leafing through it, a wrinkled photograph fell down on the carpet. The paper had yellowed with time and the print had faded from the edges. It showed the four Kapoors standing against Ronak. Nishant had flung his arm carelessly over Neelima’s shoulders. The two daughters were huddled at their parents’ feet. Rujuta bent over to pick the photograph. In the photo, it was evident that Neelima was tense about something and Nishant looked as burly as he always did.

  “You can read the entire thing later but I want you to read a few pages with me right now, the ones I have folded along the edges. Start from the beginning please.”

  Rujuta had no reason to indulge Nidhi but she decided to play along. It was a long night ahead and this was going to be her only opportunity to get answers from Nidhi. She noticed that Nidhi’s handwriting and words slanted towards the left. Apart from that, it was neat, eloquent and had little or no blemishes. It was a journal of a thoughtful and calculative individual.

  Nidhi went back to
the sill. She lit another cigarette and egged Rujuta to start reading. “I think the first note would be about my school. I don’t remember the date. I don’t write dates. They mean little to me. I just write what comes to my head,” she said.

  Rujuta nodded silently and flipped through the journal. The entries started abruptly without dates or headers or locations or any indicators of the forthcoming text.

  The first one was apparently from the time when the two Kapoor girls were in school.

  I hate going to school. Everyone laughs on me. Even Payal takes their side. She is the one who started calling me cookie cutter. I don’t like her. But I get bored without her. She is my best friend. But mumma has told me to not tell anyone that Payal is my sister. Aren’t we sisters? But Payal likes those ugly girls more than me.

  When I told mumma, she asked to forget it. She made my favorite chocolate milkshake. She is the best.

  Rujuta looked up at Nidhi. She nodded and motioned her to move onto the next one. In a simple riff though the pages of the journal, Rujuta fast-forwarded Nidhi Kapoor’s life. The next place where she stopped, the language was more mature and more coherent. Like the last entry, there were no dates, no precursors, no headings. Just Nidhi’s left-slanted scrawls.

  How dare Papa hit mumma? That too in presence of strangers? I am not letting him go without a punishment this time. I’d make him answer for his actions.

  I hate that damn wretch Preeti. I just don’t like her. I have to get her away from Papa. Papa becomes a monster when she is around. And she can’t come to our home so often like that. She’s in Papa’s study all the time. Why? And Papa gets so rude to mumma when she is around. Damn her. Everyone likes her but she doesn’t even know how to dress up.

  After the party while I was helping mumma get in the bed, I wanted to go to Papa’s room and take my revenge. But mumma asked me to stay quiet. She said that if I spoke against her, Papa would beat her again. But I dare Papa to touch me or mumma again. I am not a kid anymore. I will give it back to him.

  Rujuta had heard from multiple sources about that party when Nishant beat Neelima in public. Nidhi, as if reading Rujuta’s mind said, “Preeti. His heroine from Lahu Ka Rang. She was dearer to him than any of us. Apart from Payal. But definitely dearer than mumma or me. That woman, Preeti, is the reason why my father thought that my mother was an old hag and had retorted to inflicting pain and punishment on us.”

  Preeti had disappeared suddenly right after Lahu Ka Rang. All attempts to find her went in vain. She was headed for great things if she hadn’t disappeared like that. “What happened to her? Where did she go? Do you know where she went?” Rujuta asked.

  Nidhi merely smiled at her. Her lips curled up the way Nishant’s curled when he laughed. “You’d get to know in a minute. Read on. You need to read a lot more if you are to make sense of things. Just don’t get angry. OK?” she said.

  Rujuta, rather than getting angry, got curious about what was next. She flicked the pages and rested on the next crease.

  Goa. Probably the most gifted place in all of India. I love it every time I come here. Goa makes me realize how powerful I really am. I have the power to control the lives of other people around me. It’s so intoxicating. Better than any whiskey, any other trip that I have ever been on

  Kunal deserves a mention here. The dude thought he could fuck around with Payal, and get away with it. When Payal told me that she liked Kunal, I told her to stay away from him. She won’t listen and Kunal somehow took her to that secluded corner in the fort. Luckily, I was around. All men are fucking bastards. All they want is sex. All they can think about is their dicks.

  When he tried to force himself on Payal, I thought Payal also wanted to get laid. But when she started screaming, I asked Kunal to stop. He laughed at me, sneered at me. How dare he mock me like that? I flung this stone at him. It hit him in the neck. He was surprised. Probably, as much from pain as from the realization that I could hurt him. I wish I could capture the look on his face. I wish I had carried one of those cameras that Papa likes to record things on. It would have made an excellent tape. Maybe I could add it to Papa’s collection.

  The bastard said he would kill Payal and me. How dare he threaten me like that? I pounced on him and hit him in his head with a sharp stone. I hit him till he went quiet. How dare he say that he would hurt me?

  Payal, the stupid cow was braying like a kid. I had to ask her to shut up. She would not. I had to slap her to calm her down.

  When I realized that I had killed Kunal with my hands, I felt so powerful. I realized the power that I had. So far killing was just an idea. An alien concept to me. I had killed Papa, Preeti, Tiger, so many times in my dreams. But this was the first time when I actually took away a life.

  I feel so much at peace. I realized that inflicting mortal punishments makes me happy and powerful. Let that bitch Preeti come home next.

  So, I flung Kunal off the edge of the fort. But he landed on a shallow rock. I had to sit there and wait till the waves washed his body away. I loved sitting there and waiting for Mother Nature to clean up after I had killed someone.

  Rujuta was appalled. She read the confession again. Slower this time. Changing the speed with which she read wasn’t going to change what was written. Rujuta thought about the dual personality that Nidhi was living with. She pitied her.

  Rujuta also thought about the unsolved case of a missing young man that would still be lodged in some Goa Police Station. Then she remembered that Prakash had said that Payal’s couldn’t be the first murder that the assailant was committing.

  Nidhi caught Rujuta in the middle of her indecision. “I know it makes me sound like a monster. But what about Kunal? Preeti? Papa? Weren’t they wrong? Didn’t Kunal step out of the line when he forced himself on Payal? Why did he have to threaten me?” she asked.

  Nidhi was trying to justify the murder with logic. But no amount of justification was going to absolve Nidhi from a murder. Rujuta believed that killing someone was an irreversible process and one had no right to embark on something that one couldn’t undo. She wanted to give Nidhi a piece of her mind but decided against it. She let Nidhi do the talking.

  Nidhi continued. “I don’t care if you trust me or understand me. I know what I did was right. I had to. He had reigned in for too long and someone had to tame him. I had to tame him. Why don’t you read the next one, Rujuta? Please?”

  Rujuta could see that Nidhi was bitter towards Nishant. She could picture the regular scenes in the Kapoor household after Nishant would come home drunk and beat up Neelima and Nidhi. Any sane child growing up in such a house had to be bent in her head. It actually explained a lot of Nidhi’s actions.

  She moved onto the next place where the diary was marked.

  The nurse said they couldn’t save mumma. She said mumma was already dead when we got her to the hospital. I don’t know if I want to live anymore. Who do I live for, now that mumma is gone?

  Papa called mumma a slut and said she slept around with everyone but him. How could he? And he did not stop there. He just let mumma die. When mumma put herself on fire, instead of saving her, he did not bother at all. He just walked away. He is a fucking monster. If I were around, I wouldn’t have let that happen.

  I hate you, Papa. I hate you. I will make you pay for mumma’s death. She has not died in vain. I would make your suffer. I would take away everything that is dear to you. I would make your cry. You would beg to be killed. I would make you miserable Papa. You’d see what I am capable of. Nishant Kapoor, you’d fucking die. A more miserable death than you can ever imagine.

  I.. I..

  Rujuta was stunned. She could not believe that things were so bad at the Kapoors.

  Rujuta noticed that a couple of more pages in the diary were marked for her. But she had no desire left to read anymore. She looked up at Nidhi.

  “You know why I did not kill Papa all this while?” Nidhi asked, her voice lower than before.

  Rujuta was trying to get he
r head around things that she had read in Nidhi’s diary. She could not believe that a bright young girl like Nidhi could be this twisted in her head and do such bizarre things.

  “I wanted him to suffer,” Nidhi continued, “suffer the way my mum had suffered when she was alive. The way I have suffered all my life. All I wanted from him was a little love for mumma and a little affection for myself. He knew we craved for tiny trinkets of emotions from him and yet he chose to tend to everyone but us. That whore Preeti, how could she be more important to my father? You know when I saw him struggle and plead for his life after I mixed anti-depressants in his drinks, I realized… I realized that I wanted to keep him alive and kill him inch by inch. Kill him so slow that he begs me to hurry up. I wanted him to see the imminent end.”

  Nidhi got up from her place and started to pace around the room. “You know how I did it? It was so easy. It started with Preeti. She was the second person I killed. Like Kunal, I beat her to death. But Preeti got a glass bottle in her abdomen. No one was home and she had come to Ronak hoping to meet Papa. I just had to give her some sleeping pills to make it easy for me to kill her. Once I was done, I buried her in the garden, next to the umbrella. She’s still there, I think. And then it was easy after that.”

  Rujuta felt sorry for Nidhi. She was an actress par excellence and it was sad that she wouldn’t continue working in the industry. She was staring at a life term at least.

  Nidhi was still talking. “I had to wait for a few years, but it was very simple. All I had to do was to kill things and leave letters behind. It was so easy to fool everyone like that. I left so many clues behind in every letter and still no one could figure things out. People just see what they want to see, I guess. You know, you derailed my plan a bit when you saved Payal. She should have died in that fire. Just the way mumma died. I was so angry with you for saving her. That’s why I came to your house the other day. To shut you up for good. But you were good, Rujuta. You fended me away.”