Anna looked at her daughter. Being a teen she might be having some issues like any other girl of her age should have. And she was not the type of mother who would overlook her daughter’s concern and issues, and would pass verdict or would order her wishes. She tried to talk with her more than once but she either ran away or just gave her the look of to shut up.
Kedar had tried to talk with her. But, she also ignored him. Telling him she wanted to be left alone. He invited her to his cave letting her know she could talk with him in private. That too she denied. Never does this happen between them. Whenever the old storyteller comes to Anna’s house, it was Sunayana whose face used get a lift and turn bright. Even at this age of seventeen she still want to hear to the old man’s tales—no matter how many times she had heard over the years.
The winter was coming to the Town. And it was also arriving in between these three individuals.
Sunayana became more restless and arrogant with the passing time. Anna doubted something and she shared it with Kedar. She had doubted her daughter was pregnant; to this Kedar laughed and assured her if that have had happened then he would be the first to know recollecting her first menstruation cycle event. He states this change of his favorite listener as blue in winter for want of warmth. She might be missing someone who had been not in Town for long and had promised to return.
One fine chilly morning the Town woke up at the news of death of Mr. Bakshi. He had passed away in his sleep.
Sunayana was restless after hearing this news. After long one and a half months she stepped out of the house. The snow was drizzling. A blizzard would be there but there was still time to it. She was with her mother. Both going to pay their homage; the dead body had been lie down in the city hall. He would be buried at the late noon.
The Town, but, was shocked when they learnt that his son would not be able to come. His telegram only read Am not coming stop
“Papa said you want to have a private conversation with me…Bakshi…” Rupak Chakraborty said while taking his seat, and before putting his kerchief over his nose.
The meeting had been set in dimly lighted questioning room which smelt of sweat and damp.
“It will be honorable and apt, if you call me Inspector Bakshi or Mr. Bakshi…” Bakshi said in a cold heavy tone.
“Really…servants wants address…what a day has come…” he laughed noisily “can we go to your cabin…this place is so stuffed…and I am not a criminal…and even if I am you will be in deep trouble if you hit me…”
Bakshi controlled his temper and said in the previous same tone, “am not your servant…am servant of the state…of the people…not anyone’s father…”
“I like this attitude of yours, Mr. Bakshi…” Rupak again laughed.
Bakshi scoffed and said, “let us get to the point…how was your relationship with Rukmini Devi…”
Rupak lighted a cigarette and leave the smokes in the face of Bakshi, and said “like this…smoky…the passion was so high that it could let a glass gather vapor…”
Bakshi wants to get burst; his hand wants to slap this young man. He lights a cigarette which he never does while questioning, then—
“So you two were in—”
“You’re a funny man…Bakshi babu…yes we were in love…not in the soul connection but where the all thing lies…down the navel…her vagina…my penis…yeah…sometimes she let me bite on her nipple…and yes she used love to get poke with…you see this…my long nail on my middle fingers…with this on her thighs when I used to fuck her…the coroner might have put some notes on this…because that morning we had fucked…and she was still panting when that blind guy comes in…the beggar…what was his name I don’t know…and never tried to know…” he paused for a while; extinguish the cigarette and lighted another, then, “what Sir…you are bachelor…come to my house sometimes…the heaven lies there, between those thighs…oh I forget to say rather mention…that morning she was not talking…her moan was different…and she was reacting very differently than other days…as if we were fucking for the first time…”
Bakshi was listening silently to Rupak. He was surprised at the candid nature of the man. He finds himself lost in search of his next action.
“How old are you…Bakshi…twenty-four or three maybe…at that age I have already fucked…umm…six to seven…yes, like that…and they varied from different age…the oldest one was the elder daughter of our maid…two days before her marriage…now am twenty-seven…and—”
“Okay…stop…” Bakshi screamed startling Rupak Chakraborty, “you can go now…”
Rupak Chakraborty stood up and while passing Bakshi pat him on the shoulder and said, “I’ve expected a thank you Sir after all I had said…”
Before Bakshi could react, he walked away silently but rapidly.
Bakshi wipe his forehead with the palm of his hand. And leave a deep breath. His associate Basu walks in. He was there all the time outside the room, and had listened to whole of the conversation.
“Sir, shall I send out a chaiwallah boy…to teach him a lesson…” Basu asked.
“H’m…” Bakshi was lost in thought, then he said, “let it be…all roaches are not needed to be smashed on…some needs to be let fly…before a lizard catch it…”
Basu nodded his head in silent. Bakshi stood up and walked out of room silently. Basu had been with him from the second or third day of his job; it had been two years then, he knew Bakshi. He was always laughing and cracking joke; it was a rare occasion where a young man got a job in the Detective Branch and rise to prominent within such a short time—rank had to wait because he needs to age. Bakshi was twenty-six and promotion needs thirty or thirty plus. Basu was concerned with Bakshi these days. Last month after he returned from his town he was most of the time unmindful. He was on a leave which got cancelled due to this murder of the actress Rukmini Devi.
No one knows what had happened. After two weeks the local police handed over the case to them on pressure from all the high level that can be imagined of while being in the force. Bakshi was reluctant to accept the offer, but, it was on Basu’s insistent that he had taken the job. The only reason for this was he wants to see his friend happy, and solving a case always makes him happy. But, something have had happened. Bakshi when not working on the case or while working get lost somewhere. The case had been taking a long time to solve, and the pressure was increasing.
“Sir is looking for you.” A constable informs me jolting him back to the practical world from his thought world.
“Yes, Bakshi…sorry…Sir…” he said as he enter the office.
“Listen…you know the saying…a servant knows the dirty secrets of palace and the spectator knows the glitz…” Bakshi asked.
“No…never heard of it…”
“H’m…I also couldn’t recollect where I had heard it…” Bakshi said while picking up a newspaper clipping, then he said, “by tomorrow…find out who is the oldest help in the house of Rathore…and if any has had retired, I want him or her whereabouts, lunatic charts and all…”
“Okay…I am going to look into it…” Basu smiled; he was happy to see Bakshi in the merry tone.
Bakshi turning the paper clipping towards him said, “a strange title for a obituary…specially for the woman you had loved…”
Basu read the headline—“I Was In Love with a Twin”.
“It was written by Sachindra Malhotra…a famous producer…” Bakshi stopped.
Basu knew he had to complete the sentence, “he was in relationship with Rukmini Devi for over three years…for her he had divorced his wife…but they never—”
“Married…and broke up last year…” Bakshi snatched the wordings of Basu.
“Yes…alright I must leave…by tomorrow noon you will get what you need…and when are you going to meet this Malhotra or are you going to call him here…”
Bakshi said, “not yet decided…before him, I need to meet Khurana…again…and this time suddenly…at his school…a blind man can have eyes that are blind but face never get blind…I need to see that face…”