The Prologue

Prologue

25  December  2017

The  cool  breeze,  which  blew  from  the  Yamuna,  was  gathering  heat  from  a  pyre  which  was  lighting  up  the  evening  atmosphere.  I  was  reminded  of  him.  He  was  a  nice,  brave  &  helpful  man,  a  handsome,  crystal-hearted,  decent  &  romantic  guy  to  me  and  a  near-perfect  son  for  his  family.

This  was  quite  true  as  he  was  the  only  son  of  his  parents  and  had  only  a  few  friends  who  all  had  such  an  opinion  about  Akshant  Kautilya  and  that  he  had  got  to  be  with  at  movies,  malls,  his  favorite  bunks,  various  libraries,  classes  and  various  outside  places  with  them  only.

Akshant  was  his  unique  name.  His  name  meant  nothing  in  particular,  just  an  amalgam  of  both  his  parents'  names  initials  and  first  names  respectively,  Arjun  Kautilya  Sharma  (AKS)  and  Shanti  Sharma.  He  was  born  on  a  stormy,  chilly,  rainy  winter  night  on  the  22nd  of  December,  1990.

Chapter 5: Second Crush

© Atul Kaushal

-Chapter Five-

Second Crush & First Love

(Akshant Narrates)

After I had shifted to this bigger school for +1 & +2, I used to recount that stay at Kendriya Vidyalaya was the best one – the awesomest one – in my own words. And I thought that I had made friends-for-life with the friendly Surya, the funny Rohit, the brainy Mohan and the gorgeous Nakshatra. When I passed class 10 with 88.4% marks, I was supposed to say good-bye to the good old Kendriya Vidyalaya to go to a big school again for XI and beyond. I chose a big school, Sacred Heart Convent School to continue with classes XI and XII, as the school was offering 50% rebate in tuition fees to those students who had succeeded in scoring more than 85% in Xth CBSE final exams.

Like many others, I also dreamed of cracking JEE when I was in XIth. And so I started going to ABC classes, where Mr. Ramesh Bombay taught mathematics with great proficiency. As my mathematics skills were so poor at that time such that no teacher, no amount of money spent could do any good for me. So when the problems’ various solutions started flying over my mind disintegrated into various figures and letters from the board, I started doing the most obvious and convenient activity for an escapist which became a vogue addiction – bunking – on a regular basis. This was my biggest mistake. What I should have done was the opposite.

But I did use to visit the coaching centre daily after the class timings to see the face of the girl named Bharti Singla who just smiled at me every time our gazes met. I mistook that mockery of hers as a green signal and I started gazing at her instead of the white-board in front of me when I attended classes. My bunks continued side by side with dedicated regularity. I proposed this pretty girl in class XI and my proposal was rejected right away by the girl. She didn’t even care enough to reply to my proposal and refuse to my seemingly non-serious proposal. She did the right thing; adolescence is not the age for getting into any such commitments but I refused to accept it. I had showed my parents the dream of their only son getting through into IIT entrance examination, but I remained lost in my fantasies about my idea of love as a choice and a necessary option after forgetting Aniketa.

After getting poor results in +1, I joined the tutorial classes of my school teachers. The bunking saga continued here as well. Though I had an above average IQ of 138 my studies were doomed to be fared badly because I never practiced a thing taught. All of these, my bad habit of bunking & an escapist nature accompanied by a lazy life made me perform poorly in studies. I made a mistake by not telling my parents about the problems I faced the same day I realized it. I was just silently being a non-playing part of the play my life was playing. But the play of solitude in the campus was too much for me and took to computer games, internet surfing and video games at games parlours as an escape through which I wrongly sought to divert my mind from the mess created at home among parents and escape my part of Karma at studies. Though I behaved perfectly normal, I was extremely scared from the inside about my future and about where my life was going to. I was an escapist since that young age and intentionally fell for a previous classmate and female friend of mine named Bhanupriya Chopra, whom I came to talking terms hoping to forge a relationship with my first crush Aniketa through Bhanu. But I fell for Bhanu herself instead. It was probably one of the most wild love stories that you’ve ever heard about, with the girl being almost a year older than the boy and this particular love story was almost like a typical teenaged love story.

When my friends like Ravindra would ask me, “Wassup buddy, what’s special and how good your IIT dream is brewing?” I would be replying, “Better talk about guitars or our buddies dude, I am in no mood to talk about studies?”

So this way I was turning a blind eye to my studies. Results were definitely bound to cold shoulder me. The intelligent student in me had disappeared and not even his shadow persisted in my nature anymore.

It was on my birthday in December 2007 that I received a message on my mobile number greeting me a happy birthday apart from ‘I love you’ but the person never revealed their identity as the number didn’t receive any phone calls from my mobile. I tried using my sources for getting to know whom that number belonged to but nobody among my friends was of any awareness about the number. In the meanwhile, the Aniketa episode was coming to an end as well and I got busy with my half-hearted efforts at studies. I used to compose poems & songs for some people or about some national issues which I myself or as I thought the nation faced. I would often get my heads together with Madhav Singh Gumra. I used to practice music with him as he was my closest friend from Sacred Heart Convent School and shared my thoughts and hobbies. We put all our thoughts in a song that could express their and the general teenager’s feelings about a world where any thoughts that came as off the league or different from everybody else are discouraged.

We both were of the opinion that the person who questioned the system was made to submit no matter how hard they tried to resist the methodology of it. I could only give vent to my and many of the students’ feelings by singing them in an aggressive song which I had composed as I felt that I had done wrong to myself by choosing non-medical stream when I believed that I could’ve done much better in arts stream choosing music for a later time in my life. Many of our school & Facebook^TM friends and my YouTube followers connected the short hard rock song which had strong distorted guitar riffs and lyrics very meaningful to their own lives. The song lyrics could be described as a call of some prisoners suffering in captivity for help. But an even better description would be presented in the lyrics themselves which are mentioned below.

Hum hain band yahaan Hum hain band yahaan, is jahaan mein! Hum hain band yahaan, is jahaan mein!! Laakhon hain gham yahaan, is jahaan mein! Laakhon hain gham yahaan, is jahaan mein!! Murda laash sa chala yahaan pe, {Gada zameen mein hoon!}-2 Kheencho mujhe koi haath pakad ke, {Dum ghute mera!!}-2 Hum hain band yahaan, is jahaan mein! Hum hain band yahaan, is jahaan mein!! Khwaab hain gum yahaan, is jahaan mein! Khwaab hain gum yahaan, is jahaan mein!!

In its first few lines, the song means, ‘We are trapped in here, in this world!’

I tried to convey it best how the younger generation felt limited in the education system.

Music was how I used to escape everyday tension. It was how I and Madhav used to divert our attention from our duties most of the times in our lives – be it our problems related to education or be them other problems of our lives as we thought.

Bhanu listened to the song on the internet and told me on call, “Akki, you can consider me your best friend and soul-mate. As a non-medical student myself I can exactly understand your heart-felt frustration. You have something, and you just need your luck to shine. I think you should study harder, you have it in you to do it.”

“Bhanu, there’s not any point in studying what my parents would like me to. But Shanti, now that I’ve started it, I’ll complete it – I can’t let my choice be proven faulty – I had my options open after 10^th standard but I chose non-medical sciences stream.” I spoke the complete truth.

Bhanu said in her sweet voice, “You addressed me as Shanti. It’s your mother’s name.”

I replied, “Yes Bhanu, I’ll call you by the same name because it’s actually you who brings genuine peace to my life.”

“Really, is it so?” asked Bhanu.

“You won’t mind – would you?” I asked with only a tinge of nervousness.

“No, no, no – not at all! It’s my pleasure if you think so and actually feel so.” said Bhanu.

Just then I blurted it out as it came to my mouth – from my heart, “I wish that I get to marry somebody like you – someone who I can look up to whenever I wish to listen to a calm voice and get relieved from these worldly worries and someone who can make me smile even when I’m so tensed up.”

“Do you realize what you just said – do you really mean it?” asked Bhanu.

I then rolled back my memory tape till just a few seconds ago and again went through all of whatever I had said a few seconds ago and I could just manage to say, “Oops! I’m sorry Bhanu, I really wanted to say that but not like this.”

Bhanu said, “You composed a song for proposing Aniketa, compose one for me as well.”

“But I have only been able to sing the same only in front of you already, won’t that do?”

“No you’ll have to write a new song for me and it’ll be only after it that I’ll formally say yes, so tell me when you’re done composing the song for me.” Bhanu finished.

“Okay Shanti – I’ll compose this romantic proposal song for you this time, it’ll be totally unlike the song I composed for Aniketa, you’ll like it and I can guarantee that if you liked my first song then you’re definitely going to love it.” I said confidently.

I then started composing a short song which I thought would help Bhanu get rid of any type of doubts about her & myself. I gave it a really jolly tune with lyrics depicting all my hopes from the relation – quality time, strength and longevity.

I had never thought that life could exist beyond Bhanupriya and felt the love for her very strongly. So now I composed another song ‘Zindagi bula rahi hai’ (Life is inviting) for the purpose of ‘formally’ proposing Bhanu. I met Bhanu after attending the crash course coaching class one day in April, 2008 and proposed her with this song at the local milk parlour. Her apprehensions about the relationship with me being affected any bit by the previous relationship she was in were all ironed out after I had proposed her formally with this song.

I personally love those lyrics and have described them on the next page. You might think of me to be overconfident, Satyaa, but with this very song I discovered a poet, a musician and a true lover of humanity inside me. I could tell that if I had been able to compose one song, I will be able to compose some more songs along with the passage of time.

The lyrics to the short song after listening to which at the nearby milk parlour Bhanu just hugged me tight & lovingly kissed my hand.

Zindagi bula rahi hai Zindagi bula rahi hai, (Life is inviting,) Humko tumko bula rahi hai… (It’s inviting me & you…) Zindagi bula rahi hai, (Life is inviting,) Humko tumko bula rahi hai… (It’s inviting me & you…) Aao chalein hum sath-sath, (Come let’s walk together,) Le kar apne haathon mein hath. (Let’s be hand-in-hand.) Zindagi bula rahi hai, (Life is inviting,) Humko tumko bula rahi hai... (It’s inviting me & you…) Vaada hai tumse, (I promise you,) Ladenge har gham se, (We will tackle each sorrow,) Qayamat mein bhi hum, (Even in doom’s event,) Bichhdein na tumse. (I won’t leave you.) <Humming> Mmmhmmhmm mmmhmmhmmhmmhmm </humming> Koi khushi yun ga rahi hai, (Some happiness sings within,) Humko tumko lubha rahi hai… (It tempts me and you…) <Voice fades> Zindagi bula rahi hai... (Life is inviting...) </voice fades>

The song could be classified as an extremely happy love song but also as a cautious proposal composition. It reflected both the positive attitude and the innocence at that tender age displayed by me. I had proposed Bhanupriya Chopra on 15^th of June in the year 2008 – the year of my entrance exams and senior secondary board exams – with this second song which I had again composed by myself.

But Bhanu asked me, “But I have an ex-boyfriend, don’t you have any problem with that?”

“Look. I’m not a gay and I can prove it to you,” I continued the good laugh I just had, “So I obviously don’t get any feelings for a boy who I have not even met ever. He was just a phase which you met with at a younger age than now, I am not concerned with your past, and I just want to be there in your present, your future and all your thoughts…”

I followed the sentence with a heartfelt genuine smile and then I encased her long but weak appearing hands in my short but stout hands that do not match my height before I asked, “Are you willing to make my life beautiful, Bhanu?”

She said yes without waiting for any more words, “You have given me the most romantic proposal today. I do not personally know any more guys that can compose such poems in a musical manner. You need not say anything else. I expected this to be only a formality but it has blown me off my feet. Yes I love you and I want to give you the best love of which you could only imagine.”

And then we forgot about AIEEE exam which was still remaining. Our chats got extended from just one message each hour to more than 50 mutual text messages each day. SMS packs failed to last more than a week. Expenditure was already going uphill.

Then I was taught by Bhanu how to kiss a girl. The first kiss for me was long; so long, very long, it was approximately 40 minutes undisturbed at my home as both my parents were working at their respective offices at that time. Both she and me relished the juiciness of the warm kiss slowly and passionately as we caressed each other’s backs.

Chapter 23: Divine Sin

© Atul Kaushal

-Chapter Twenty Three-

Divine Sin

Akshant presented the flowers to Anamika and said with a smile which automatically came on his face, ”Flowers for the queen of all flowers.”

Anamika blushed and accepted the flowers with a vibrant smile. She had donned the green night gown that she had brought with her. She knew green was Akshant’s favorite color and had so chosen green of all the nightgowns she had. Green color was a great turn on for Akshant.

He presented her the bouquet and stood there at the doorway gazing at her artistic beauty dumbfounded for some time till Anamika hit him twice on his head with her knuckles and said, ”Knock knock! How’s your queen looking?” and it woke Akshant from his dreams which made him see Anamika in a fluorescent green Christian bride’s uniform and himself in a same colored suit as a Christian groom.

He said, ”If only words could define…” now they exchanged marriage vows in his imagination and then they kissed. And then they actually kissed with Anamika taking control of the situation. Akshant tried to pause and compliment her for her night gown which was his favorite color, but Anamika was too busy for that. She continued kissing him hard. So admiring her wild passion for kissing him, Akshant just gave up and he knew that he too had to continue playing the game of tonsil tennis. Then after some time Akshant abruptly stopped and asked her in a low whisper, ”Are you ready?”

Anamika had a hint about what Akshant was asking her, but still she asked him with raised eyebrows but a calm voice, ”For what?”

Akshant was nervous with his words and came out with, ”To commit the divine sin?” Anamika thought for a while then she said, ”Do we really have to?” As if he had read her mind, Akshant replied calmly, ”We won’t if you don’t want to.” But then Anamika thought something for some seconds and said, ”Let’s just do it!”

Akshant was not prepared for it so he first went to the chemist nearby and bought a pack of rubber and then from the confectionary 2 minutes away from the resort, he bought Ferrero Rocher 24 piece box of chocolates for Anamika which were her favorite.

On arriving back to the suite, Akshant smelled the scent in the air and thought that Anamika had scented some area of the room, probably the bedroom; with some pleasant smelling lavender room spray. Then Akshant presented the box of chocolates to Anamika who was all smiles and chocolate turned out to be a turn on for Anamika; then he just lifted Anamika in his affectionate arms with a smile on his face and took her to the bedroom of the suite which had been scented by Anamika and dropped her on the bed.

Then the room number 69 of Kodai Resort hotel was burnt in the fire of love lit by Akshant and Anamika. They made love 3 times in their first night and they gained experience every time they did. After the three rubbers were discarded in the dustbin Akshant said, ”Darling you are my dream come true.” Anamika just smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. They then went into their dream-world in while they slept in each other’s arms with a smile on their faces.

In the morning after he had taken his bath, he dropped Anamika back to her hostel in an auto-rickshaw. As Akshant was again mounting  the auto-rickshaw to reach bus stand to leave for Madurai to catch his flight back to Delhi, Anamika held his elbow and said in a warning tone, ”Dare you marry someone else!” ”Obviously, I’d marry you only. I’d rather die – ” Anamika just put her hand to his mouth before he could complete his sentence and said, ”Shhh!” and kissed him on his cheeks for a last time that day.

Just before going Akshant said, ”Miss you, dear.” To which Anamika replied with the beautiful smile of hers, ”Miss you too, darling.”

The Title

© Atul Kaushal
Is the title justified?

Simple answer: Yes.

Justification: Though I started the book inspired by my own '7 Seconds' [a symbolic way to represent the small amount of time-frame of my accident], I ended it interestingly in a way to share the good-happy, poetic-musical and sometimes teaching-sentimental lessons.

Explanation: In its fast-paced story which does not leave any trace of doubt in the mind of the reader. Inspired by my reality till the accident, the story takes some events - and songs & poems - directly from my life. Akshant is the protagonist who is a non-serious messy teenager till he meets a deadly accident. The book teaches us a clear lesson how even a small time period of 7 seconds can make coins turn over and change faces. The already not-so-sincere Akshant has to carry the weight of 5 supplementary exams along with him to the next year. It is then focused on how the protagonist turns his mismanagement of time into near-perfect management when he clears 10 exams at one go with a nice percentage.

7 seconds' (or similar) short time interval make it full of suspense for the character in few decisive instances in his life which tend to end in laughter.

Action follows in plane hijack where the symbolic 7 seconds' time frame again plays a significant role.

So yes, the title is justified. It not only indicates action-filled sequences in the book, but also conveys the importance of time which many of us, irrespective of our age, fail to identify and respect.

The Gist of the Novel

© Atul Kaushal

The novel starts in future year 2017 with a secret female narrator describing the protagonist Akshant Sharma’s last rites after his death in a terrorist suicide-bomb attack. Then the secret narrator goes 27 years back to start again the story of the protagonist in a flashback to cover the protagonist’s birth, childhood, teenage and adulthood. She follows his life at each stage and focuses on his teenage. The author seeks to share his own experiences as a teenager almost till the middle of the story and hopes to teach the lessons learnt in his own teenage to the teenaged readers. In the following first few chapters, it becomes a young-adult-fiction which is aimed at the 16-24 age group of readers and finally it ends like a thriller involving the protagonist fighting off the terrorist hijackers at one stage and then him being killed in a suicide-bomb attack. In his fresh writing, the budding author puts forward an unbiased view towards the system of reservation & the need to rise above politics and reconsider the present viability of the social facet in India.

The author exploits his lyrical prowess in the 4 poems (these have proper tunes given to them in real life composed by the author and a few are present on YouTube^TM). The author also attempts travel guiding, describing Delhi’s Old Fort via the protagonist acting as a travel guide for a German-French tourist party and the Agra’s Taj Mahal. Other than English, the novel includes small decorative inputs in Hindi, French and German apart from inputs in Kannada, Punjabi & Haryanvi.

This is just a teaser

For the complete story, one must wait for my book to be published in hardcopy. Although it is available as an eBook novel on Amazon Kindle, I am not satisfied. Do read all the posts. :-)

Go to https://www.amazon.com/dp/aw/B00MYY0DMA for buying the affordable eBook novel.

Chapter 42: Marriage Bells

© Atul Kaushal

-Chapter  Forty  Two-

Marriage  Bells

Days  passed  and  soon  it  was  7^th  of  November,  2017  and  three  years  and  four  months  passed  since  the  Germany  flight  incident  and  Akshant’s  bullet  wound  had  healed  almost  fully  but  still  he  limped,  his  parents  had  tried  for  the  third  time  to  help  him  walk  well  and  as  it  was  2017,  the  year  they  had  planned  for  Akshant  to  get  married  one  month  later  and  all  three  of  them  were  really  trying  to  get  the  limping  in  his  walking  style  corrected  from  the  last  four  months.  Though  he  had  corrected  his  walking  style  from  a  much  worse  position  after  his  life  threatening  accident,  this  was  different.

Anamika’s  family  was  excited  too  and  there  was  a  collection  of  relatives  that  both  the  families  had  invited  for  ’nishchitaartha’  (something  like  engagement  in  south  India,  called  ’baat  pakki’  in  north  India)  that  day  from  their  relatives’  home  places  in  Chennai,  Mysore,  Kurukshetra,  Faridabad  and  Agra.  Anamika  and  Akshant’s  relatives  who  had  settled  as  far  away  as  Zurich  and  Chicago  were  also  going  to  be  there  in  the  marriage  but  they  would  reach  only  a  week  earlier  than  the  marriage. 

Anamika  was  nervous  about  getting  married  in  a  matter  of  days.  She  started  avoiding  Akshant  as  most  brides  do  when  the  day  of  marriage  comes  closer.  She  also  became  over-conscious  about  her  weight  and  looks  so  she  stopped  taking  junk  food.  Akshant  used  to  wonder  that  why  his  Anamika  was  getting  weaker  than  the  previous  time  every  time  they  met.  Anamika  answered  shyly  on being  asked  by  her  going-to-be  husband  or  any  other  of  her  friends.

”Shaadi  hone  waali  hai  meri  aur  main  moti  dikhun  –  impossible!”  (My  marriage  is  going  to  happen  and  I  look  fat  –  impossible!)  Then  they  were  going  to  get  married  happily  to  on  the  7^th  of  December,  2017.

He  just  smiled  more  to  himself  probably  thinking  about  how  his  luck  had  turned  out  for  him  and  he  was  of  the  opinion,  ’All’s  well  that  ends  well’,  more  joyous  by  the  new  premium  Epiphone  electric  guitar gifted  to  him  along  a  note  that  said,  ’I  really  hope  that  I  get  to  see  you  play  this  guitar  as  a  lullaby  to  our  babies  and  then  I  wish  to  be  put  to  the  perpetual  sleep  after  a  minimum  of  75  more  years  with  your  guitar  crooning  a  lullaby  for  me,  darling… J’  by  Anamika  in  return  for  the  42-carat  diamond  necklace  that  Akshant  had  gifted to  her.

During  all  this  waiting  period  he  thought  he  needed  to  share  this  happiness  with  someone  close.  So  he  chose  me,  Satyaa  Gupta,  who  was  there  with  him  after  his  deadly  accident  in  2010.  He  mailed  this  happy  final  installment  of  his  life’s  not-so-happy  story  as  he  looked  at  it  to  me  a  week  prior  to  his  death  because  he  wanted  to  share  with  the  world  the  lessons  he  had  learned  in  his  short  but  much-experienced  lifetime.

Then  when  we  video  chatted  a  couple  of  days  prior  to  his  honeymoon,  I  could  see  that  same  old  self-satisfied  smile  on  his  face  and  a  rather  beautiful  smile  on  his  Anamika’s  face  on  the  night  prior  to  their  departure  to  Canada  for  their  honeymoon  as  he  tried  to  depict  their  happiness  on  his  union  with  his  dream  girl.

They  had  gotten  married  with  not  too  much  of  pomp  and  show.  Akshant  &  Anamika  were  a  romantic  couple  which  had  chosen  Canada  as  its  honeymoon  location  and  spent  the  time  roaming  &  sight-seeing  along  with  the  romance  lighting  their  surroundings.  They  enjoyed  very  much  as  they  celebrated  Akshant’s  birthday  in  advanced  on  the  7^th  day  of  their  honeymoon  and  he  received  the  special  snowy-kiss  from  Anamika  as  a  birthday  gift.

It  was  not  that  we  were  not  in  contact  any  time  before  the  day  he  got  married.  We  used  to  correspond  via  emails,  we  mailed  very  much – almost  daily,  he  used  to  narrate  his  biography  textually  in  emails  and  vocally  on  voice  chats.  One  day  in  the  middle  of  December,  he  told  me  that  he  feared  that  he  might  be  assassinated  anytime  soon  by  the  terrorists  belonging  to  the  residue  of  Shuddha  Rakht  as  he  had  received  a  threat  mail  by  some  unknown  email  ID,  which  he  tried  to  trace  to  no  avail  and  wanted  me  to  write  a  text  about  his  life  taking  the  story  from  his  mails  while  focusing  on  what  not  to  do  in  one’s  teenage.

Even  though  we  never  talked  directly  on  phone,  on  my  marriage  on  23^rd  January  2017  he  had  come  for  the  sake  of  honoring  the  invitation  that  I  mailed  him.  I  guess  he  still  considered  me  someone  who  was  not  exactly  a  friend  but  somebody  more  than  a  friend.

He  was  unconsciously  displaying  his  typical  signature  style  here  as  well;  he  came  alone  looking  his  all-time  smartest  in  that  formal  Indian  Kurta-Pajama  which  was  clinging  to  his  toned  body,  wished  the  best  to  me  for  my  married  life,  gave  me  a  hand-written  card  and  went  away  with  only  six  words  to  me  in  a  different,  matured  voice,  ’I  wish  you  all  the  best’.  and  said  to  my  husband,  ”Take  good  care  of  her,  she’s  such  an  angel.  But  lest  I  listen  any  complaints  –  ”  branding  his  fist  at  him  jokingly  as  he  flashed  a  brilliant  smile  at me.

Akshant  composed  one  last  song  for  Anamika  during  their  honeymoon,  only  months  before  he  died  and  after  a  long-long  –  loooong  time  the  song  was  a  happy  song.  It’s  named  ’Tujhe  Dekh  Ke’  and  its  lyrics  are:

Tujhe  Dekh  Ke…

Tujhe  Dekh  Ke  Gaane  Lagta  Hai,
Mera  Mann,  Mera  Mann.
Bas  Ye  Chaahoon  Ke,  Tujhko  Paaun  Main,
Mere  Sang,  Har  Janam...

Tu  Hai  Mere  Sapnon  Mein,
Tu  Aaja  Mere  Apnon  Mein.
Ho!  Tujhe  Dekh  Ke…

Ho  Main  Hoon  Teri  Yaadon  Mein,
Main  Hoon  Tere  Vaadon  Mein.
Yaad  Kar  Wo  Lamhe,  Yaad  Kar  Wo  Sapne,
Bitaaye  Humne  Jo  Milke,  Sajaaye  Humne  Jo  Milke!

Tujhe  Dekh  Ke  Gaane  Lagta  Hai,
Mera  Mann,  Mera  Mann...

But  as  destiny  had  it, this  song  turned  out  to  be  the  last  song  by  Akshant.

Is that all?

© Atul Kaushal

Is  that  all,  a  typical  happy  ending?

But  what  we  do  at  various  stages  in  our  lives  add  up  in  our  account  maintained  by  that  force  in  the  sky.

Every  good  deed  is  rewarded  by  time  and  every  bad  deed  adds  up  as  a  negative.

Okay,  point  taken.  But  what  makes  me  wonder  is  the  question  that  is  ’Karma’  always  a  good  accountant?

I  wish  I  could’ve  said  that  this  was  the  end,  but  sadly,  Akshant’s  story  doesn’t  end  here…

He Must Die!

© Atul Kaushal

He  Must  Die!

I  knew  about  Shuddha  Rakht’s  planning  all  throughout  Akshant’s  timeline  through  a  source  that  I  would  choose  to  keep  safe  as  a  secret.  I  then  again  came  in  contact  with  Mrs.  Shanti  Sharma  when  I  went  to  congratulate  her  on  being  a  grandmother  and  she  was  looking  over  a  couple  of  decades  older  than  I  last  met  her  only  a  few  years  back.  Only  if  he  had  taken  it  seriously  and  hired  some  security,  he  still  would’ve  been  alive.

A  not-so-old  lion  had  planned  revenge  after  coming  to  know  that  Akshant  was  the  same  person  whom  his  younger  brother  lost  his  job  to.  He  hatched  a  perfect  fool-proof  conspiracy  to  kill  him  in  the  Holi  time  before  Manuj  died  himself  and  now  his  lioness  was  going  to  avenge  his  death  by  killing  one  of  the  people  she  held  responsible.  After  the  failure  of  the  hijack  attempt,  Manuj  Joshi  had  come  to  know  through  media  sources  about  Akshant  and  Nitin’s  feat  in  defeating  his  ’purifiers’  on  Lufthansa  Airlines  Flight  7  and  thereby  making  his  plans  taste  dirt.  Though  his  failed  plan  could  not  be  fixed  now,  he  was  of  the  opinion  that  he  deserved  to  exact  revenge  from  both  the  saviors  of  the  Flight  7.  Nitin  had  been  working  for  the  Economic  Times  in  the  safety  of  the  capital  in  his  New  Delhi  office.  So  Manuj  Joshi  shifted  his  focus  towards  Akshant  and  he  had  injected  a  spy  in  his  office  in  form  of  the  second-in-command  for  Shuddha  Rakht  and  his  keep,  Anuradha  Rohilla  whom  he  had  got  her  B.Sc.  in  biotechnology  done  in  these  3  years  which  had  passed  since  the  Flight  7  failed  hijack  attempt,  instead  of  her  MBBS  and  then  Anuradha  put  herself  to  job  in  Akshant  Kautilya  Sharma’s  office  as  a  research  associate  working  with  Akshant  through  an  underhand  contact  in  the  Mathura  Refinery.  Anuradha  was  staying  low  and  was  on  constant  lookout  for  any  good  chance  to  assassinate  Akshant.  She  had  been  told  by  Manuj  Joshi  to  do  the  job  as  a  suicidal  mission  which  was  supposed  to  be  a  retaliatory  mission  in  case  Manuj  died  prematurely.  And  Manuj  did  die  in  a  military  operation  on  his  hide-out  in  the  caves  of  the  Western  Ghat  Mountains  in  north-west  Karnataka,  his  home  state.  In  this  attack,  Anuradha  escaped  the  hands  of  the  army  and  made  a  dangerous  plan  to  execute  Akshant  by  herself.  Anuradha  who  loved  Manuj  beyond  any  limits  made  a  firm  mind  on  her  decision  to  assassinate  Akshant  whom  she  held  largely  responsible  along  with  Nitin  for  her  love’s  death. 

As  Nitin  was  a  difficult  target  according  to  her  as  such  an  attempt  in  the  national  capital  was  difficult  after  the  increased  security  that  Delhi  had  seen  after  the  Kashmir-linked  terrorist  attacks’  frequency  had  increased  in  Delhi.  She  made  up  her  mind  that  she  could  kill  Akshant  only  by  a  suicide  bomb  attack.  She  planned  her  attack  mission  while  she  worked  neatly  and  efficiently  for  the  last  two  months  along  with  him  in  his  lab  in  Mathura  on  the  finishing  touches  of  his  biodiesel  research  project.  She  even  attended  his  and  Anamika’s  wedding.  She  stayed  quietly  under  the  shadows  by  not  sharing  much  about  herself.  Friday,  22^nd  of  December,  2017  was  the  day  on  which  she  decided  to  kill  Akshant.  She  knew  it  was  going  to  be  his  birthday  but  she  was  unperturbed  by  it.

The  day  was  pretty  unlike  any  other  birthday  for  Akshant,  it  was  going  out  to  be  really  special  for  him,  without  him  having  even  a  hint  of  death’s  vibrant  celebrations  that  the  boy  who  had  cheated  her  in  past  was  finally  going  to  die  as  a  man.  He  and  Anamika  had  gone  out  for  dinner  on  the  previous  night  and  Anamika  had  planned  a  surprise  party  for  Akshant  when  they  got  back  to  their  home.

That  day,  his  birthday  was  going  to  be  celebrated  in  a  special  way.  Not  only  because  it  was  his  first  birthday  after  was  he  married  to  Anamika  which  she  had  attempted  to  make  special  by  inviting  his  friends  from  far  away,  but  also  because  this  was  his  first  birthday  to  a  new  life  and  his  father  was  going  to  be  retired  the  next  May.  Anamika  had  given  good  news  to  her  in-laws,  to  Akshant,  to  her  parents  and  friends,  that  she  was  two  weeks  pregnant!  Akshant  was  overjoyed,  nothing  else  could  be  better  good  news  for  him  that  soon  he  was  going  to  be  a  father,  but  this  joy  was  going  to  be  short-lived.

Never  did  he  know  that  it  was  all  going  to  be  vaporized  in  the  flames  that  would  come  to  take  him  to  the  netherworld.  On  the  provision  by  their  bomb  expert,  who  was  a  frustrated  chemistry  teacher  with  a  disturbed  conscience,  Anuradha  Rohilla  wore  a  jacket  that  day  under  her  top  which  was  charged  with  a  mixture  of  RDX  with  other  improvised  explosive  devices  smart  enough  to  be  adjusted  in  a  thin  layer  of  clothing.

The  detonator  here  was  a  voice-recognized  password  on  pressing  a  button  close  to  the  belly-button  and  saying,  ’Shuddha  Rakht’  in  her  own  voice  which  would  be  triggering  an  explosion  which  would  be  enough  to  kill  Akshant  along  with  herself.  This  was  going  to  be  a  fidayeen  attack  in  which  the  killer  herself  was  going  to  be  killed  apart  from  the  target.  Anuradha  was  going  to  gamble  on  this  one  as  she  had  not  tried  out  on  this  one  previously  and  this  set-up  was  a  homemade  one,  so  it  was  quite  probable  that  Anuradha  failed  this  time.  But  she  tried  with  all  her  heart  put  in  to  it  and  as  they  say  if  one  tries  in  such  a  way,  they  can  even  get  to  meet  the  Devil  himself.

Anuradha  acted  well  as  if  she  was  helping  Akshant  by  doing  the  various  laboratory  petty  jobs  like  washing  the  lab  apparatus  and  other  inventory  other  than  ably  helping  Akshant  with  the  various  experiments.  That  day  was  going  to  be  different,  a  lot  different, it  was  Akshant’s  ultimate  day on which  he  was  going  to  be  killed.  She  wished  Akshant  happy  birthday  and  said  that  she  wanted  to  gift  him  a  special  thing  on  his  birthday.

”Oh  thank  you  dear!  I  have  got  to  tell  you  a  big  news  too  –  a  rather  great  news  – I  am  going  to  be  a  father!  My  wife  is  two  weeks  pregnant!”  said  Akshant  happily.

”Oh  congratulations  sir!  Although  it’s  rather  early  for  her  to  get  pregnant – you  two  just  got  married  –  this  calls  for  a  hug…”  said  Anuradha  with  her  arms  wide  open  while  successfully  faking  her  false  excitement  and  advanced  towards  Akshant  after  she  pressed  the  trigger  inside  her  coat  which  made  the  bomb  tied  to  her  body  vibrate.

”Yeah  –  oh  yeah,  sure!  Thanks  Anuradha!”  said  Akshant  smiling  and  caught  unaware  by  Anuradha.  As  she  hugged  Akshant  tightly  saying,  ”Congratulations  sir  on  the  good news  of  being  a  future-father!”  and  Anuradha  brought  her  lips  close  to  kiss  him  briefly  on  his  lips,  for  he  no  clue  that  this  was  the  kiss  of  death.  Akshant  was  taken  aback  by  these  preemptive  advances  of Anuradha  and  opened  his  mouth  to  say  something  but  any  words  of  protest  were  cut  short  by  Anuradha  who  put  her  cold  hand  on  Akshant’s  mouth  and  said  in  a  dangerously  low  whisper  to  him,  ”And  you  know  what?  He  was  everything  to  me,  my  love,  somebody  whom  I  considered  more  than  my  own  father  who  disowned  me  and  my  best-friend.  I  loved  him  who  was  killed  by  the  Indian  Army  that  night  in  that  covert  operation.  I  hate  you  for  that!  I  hate  you!  And  good  bye  sir,  good  bye  –  Shuddha  Rakht!”

On  the  last  two  words  shouted  by  Anuradha,  Akshant  had  just  managed  to  raised  his  brows  to  the  crisp-short  beeping  sound  of  the  trigger  mechanism  only  to  see  into  her  flaming  brown  eyes  which  were  seemingly  freshened  up  after  tasting  revenge,  a  revenge  that  would  satiate  her  soul.  And  death  was  ready  with  lunch  on  her  plate,  the  boy  who  had  betrayed  her  on  two  previous  occasions  would  die  finally.

Before  Akshant  could  have  even  a  hint  of  it  or  any  pain  could  be  felt  by  his  body,  Anuradha’s  jacket  was  blown  away  and  he  was  dead  along  with  the  suicide  bomber  in  his  own  official  laboratory.  And  both  of  their  body  parts  were  scattered  all  around  the  laboratory  floor  along  with  the  blood-stained  glass  shards  that  were  bound  to  sprinkle  all  over  the  office  like  the  sand  particles  in  the  Thar desert  and  Akshant  didn’t  even  get  the  time  to  let  out  a  wail  seeking  help,  he  dropped  dead  the  instant  the  jacket  that  Anuradha  had  worn  for  the  purpose  of  killing  Akshant  ripped  apart.  The  blast  was  of  the  regular  kind  and  a  big  noise  issued  from  it.

Although  the  bomb  echoed  all  through  the  Mathura Refinery  campus,  Anamika’s  father,  Mr.  Vinayak  Das  Belgaum  was  the  first  person  to  know  about  it  as  he  streaked  out  of  his  office’s  door  on  hearing  the  blast  ripping  apart  like  a  huge  Diwali  firecracker  through  the  corridor  to  the  laboratory  next  door  and  he  stood  flabbergasted  after  seeing  Akshant’s  masculine  arm  lying  on  the  entrance  of  his  laboratory.  He  then  gathered  himself  and  dared  to  call  the  police.  As  the  news  spread,  it  burnt  holes  in  the  hearts  of  people  who  knew  Akshant.  Neither  any  conspirators  were  going  to  be  held,  nor  would  any  group  claim  the  responsibility  for  the  attack,  only  guesses  were  to  be  made.

On  hearing  this  horrible  piece  of  seemingly  impossible  news,  Akshant’s  parents,  his  wife  and  other  relatives  were  left  in  a  state  of  high  shock,  Arjun  Kautilya  Sharma,  his  father  stood  dumb-struck,  as  silent  as  the  clock   and  while  he  was  slowly  rising  up  from  his  armchair  his  eyes  were  brimming  up  with  tears.  Akshant’s  mother  who  was  a  heart  patient  suffered  a  minor  paralytic  attack  and  fell  down  on  the  doorway  of  her  office  in  the  State  Bank  as  she  fainted  after  listening  to  this  worst  unbelievable  piece  of  news  by  an  apprentice  from  Mathura  Refinery.

I  too  was  broken  as  I  felt  like  I  had lost  a  piece  of  me.  As  he  was  somebody  whom  I  used  to  share  the  various  day  to  day  stories  of  my  life,  the  bitching  about  the  office  and  my  in-laws  with  online  on  e-mails/chats.  I  had  met  his  wife  Anamika,  an  action  unknown  to  Akshant  and  became  good  friends  with  her  when  Akshant  was  alive.  But  when  I  went  to  console  her,  I  sensed  that  she  felt  as  though  it  was  the  end  of  the  world  for  her,  so  I  tried  to  comfort  her,  ”Anamika,  I  wouldn’t  be  the  right  person  to  say  this  as  I  myself  can’t  keep  my  tears,  he  was  someone  for  me  whom  I  considered  my  best  friend  and  a  secret-keeper.  I  can’t  say  the  words  to  console  you  but  I’ll  just  tell  you  how  he  immortalized  himself  in  his  songs  and  in  what  he  has  done  for  the  world.”

I  am  sure  that  Akshant  must  have  been  a  good  husband  and  a  great  friend  for  Anamika.  She  felt  that  it  was  the  end  of  the  world  for  her.  But  she  knew  that  she  had  to  live  on  to  bring  up  their  twin  children  who  she  has  given  birth  to,  as  they  are  going  to  be  Akshant’s  last  traces  on  earth  and  Anamika  keeps  herself  busy  in  the  kids.  Her  retired  in-laws  and  the  excessive  workload  that  she  has  taken  up  at  the  office,  keeping  her  way  too  distant  from  even  the  thought  of  marrying  again  –  not  that  no  one  would  be  enthusiastic  marrying  a  widow  too  busy  in  her  own  work  and  in  bringing  up  the  twins  that  Akshant  had  gifted  to  her  prior  to  his  untimely  departure.  Mrs.  Shanti  is  recovering  from  the  paralytic  attack  with  help  from  her  retired  husband.  The  twins  are  named  just  as  Akshant  had  wished  them  to  be  known  as,  the  girl’s  name  is  Sankshaya  who  looks  like  Anamika  but  has  her  father’s  forehead  and  the  boy  is  aged  3  now,  just  as  his  twin  sister.  They  are  not  completely  identical,  they  have  slightly  different  features,  which  is  not  a  rarity  for  twins  in  this  part  of  India,  but  it  is  surely  an  unusual  thing  anyhow.  While  Sankshaya  looks  much  like  her  mother,  they  and  everyone  else  is  reminded  of  Akshant’s  childhood  when  they  look  at  the  playful  Sanchay,  he  looks  exactly  the  way  Akshant  looks  in  his  childhood  photographs  as  if  Akshant  has  taken  rebirth.  The  kids  call  me  ’mausi’  and  are  really  overjoyed  whenever  I  visit  their  house  because  they  know  that  Satyaa  mausi  would  be  telling  them  more  about  their  dad  apart  from  bringing  sweets  for  them,  the  best  ones  of  which  would  be  the  imported  ones  from  Germany,  something  which  Akshant  used  to  relish  upon,  every  time  he  went  to  Bangalore  where  he  would  go  to  rendezvous  with  his  holidays-visiting  maternal  cousins  who  lived  in  Chicago  where  all  stuff  from  Germany,  including  these  chocolates  would  be  available  at  any  megastore  in  all  neighborhoods.

Interestingly,  a  new  engine  that  can  work  amazingly  well  with  an  efficiency  of  over  40%  on  neat  biodiesel  which  has  been  developed  by  Indian  Oil  has  been  named  after  him  as  the  Kautilya  Engine  as  a  homage  for  him  as  he  showed  a  path  which  the  world  has  walked  on  and  is  gaining  more  and  more  buyers  among  automakers  with  each  passing  day.  I  never  feel  that  he  has  died  and  left  us  all,  neither  would  I  ever  feel  so,  not  unless  his  contribution  towards  biodiesel  research,  poems  and  songs  are  forgotten  by  his  family,  friends  and  admirers.