"Love In The Era of Confusion" - An Anthology

This is an anthology which is going to be published very shortly.  Many new authors are making their debut through this publication.  Watch this space for more.

Memory Intrigues - Chapter 26

This is the twenty sixth chapter of Memory Intrigues , a mystery series in the “Game of Blogs” for the team “ Dynamic Word Weavers” as a part of # CelebrateBlogging campaign by Blogadda.


 You can read the previous chapter here , or check out all the chapters on our FB page here

The story so far:

“Shekhar, Jennifer here.  I think I can help you get Roohi back.  However you will have to keep your nerve and play the game carefully.  If the kidnappers call you, play for some more time. Tell them to give you time till tomorrow afternoon.”

She can almost hear Shekhar heave a sigh of relief.  “Thank you so much Jenny.  That is so kind of you.  I always knew I could depend on you …  Our friendship … and love … is as strong as it always was.”

Although Shekhar tries to infuse confidence into those words, he cannot hide his scepticism.  “Why this sudden change in Jennifer?  She is singing a totally different tune.  What had happened during the course of the evening to make her change her mind?  Was this for real or was this some new game plan of Jenny’s?”

Jennifer can hear it in his voice.  Of course, he wouldn't trust her any more.  How could he, after all that happened between them?

She shakes her head hard as if to shake off all the emotional baggage that has been bothering her and weighing her down all these years. She is determined to finish the game that she has started.  Yes, she is the only person who can do it and she will.
___________________________________________________

“How do I get this little kid out of this mess?” wonders Jenny.  The image of a police officer suddenly springs up before her mind’s eye – that of ACP Sameer Thorat.  Surely he will help me out.

Her mind goes to a time, four years ago, when she was covering an election speech in Shivaji Maidan by a very famous regional politician.

*****

4 years ago:

The grounds are packed with people pouring in from everywhere to catch a glimpse of the politician and to hear his scintillating speech.  The man is known for his oratory and his rhetoric.  The milling masses are very restless and there is a very large posse of police present on the grounds to control the crowds.  They are expecting trouble.  Jennifer has arrived a bit late and is trying to squeeze her way into the media enclosure.  She is doing a stint as official photographer for one of the big newspaper houses.  The crowds make it impossible for her to move forward.  She spots a police officer standing a few paces away and approaches him for help.  The badge on his shirt reads PI Sameer Thorat.  He helps her get a vantage point from where she can get some good shots.  After the rally, she calls PI Thorat to thank him for his help.  He has been very kind and helpful towards her.  It was not unusual, thereafter, for Jenny to get in touch with him whenever she came to Mumbai for any official work.

Jenny has great regard for this Police Inspector who very soon makes his way up to the position of ACP.  Little does she suspect the special interest that the ACP has developed in her, over the years.  He is fascinated by this dusky young photographer who seems to think it is the most natural thing to live in casual shorts and tees all the time.  She is something of a non-conformist and a rebel – she has a tattoo which says "Vivacious Jen" on her right hand; she seems to be very fond of accessories – she wears multi-coloured bead chains around her neck, dangling earrings made of oxidised metal and beads, some beads along one lock of hair, metal bangles, three rings on each hand; she has beautiful, sparkling kohl lined eyes.  Although the colour of her accessories changes every day, one unchanging accessory she carries is her camera.  It seems like an unalienable part of her anatomy.  She has a tremendous attitude which the ACP finds very attractive.  Coupled with that is a certain vulnerability which bring out his protective instincts.

It comes as something of a surprise to Jenny, when he expresses his interest and proposes to her.   Jennifer thinks he is kidding; she has never thought of him in that manner.  Apart from a basic distrust in men after her experience with Shekhar, she is also obsessed with the idea of getting back into Shekhar’s life.  Sameer, from her perspective, is no more than a ‘good friend’.

*****

7 pm:

Jennifer is suddenly jolted back to the present from her reverie.  Yes, Sameer is the right person to help her.  She picks up her mobile.

“Hello, ACP Sameer Thorat?”

“Hello, Jenny!  Where are you? The whole police force is looking for you."

"Hold it, hold it ACP Thorat, I shall explain everything to you. But before that I have a lot to tell you and require your help."  

"When did you come to town?”

“Oh, I came yesterday.  Now, please can you listen to me?”

“Tell me, how can I help you?”

“It is terribly urgent, but I cannot discuss this over the phone.  I am in Pali Hill at the moment.    Can we meet somewhere over dinner?”

ACP Thorat is more than delighted at the prospect of meeting Jennifer.  They decide to meet up in Bandra at a Chinese restaurant.

Within an hour the two are seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant.  The restaurant is dimly lit and there is soft music playing unobtrusively in the background.    They order a couple of starters and main dishes.

“So tell me now, what is the matter?” asks ACP Thorat.

“You must help me help an old friend Mr. Shekhar Dutta.”

“Why should you be interested in helping him out?”

“Look Mr. Thorat, I told you he is an old friend.  He is in trouble – his daughter has been kidnapped.  You must be aware of the case of 9 year old Roohi Dutta, going missing?  She is the daughter of the reputed news reporter Mrs. Tara Dutta and Mr. Shekhar Dutta.”

“Yes, I know.  But what has this to do with you and how can I help?”

“You may have heard of a stand-up comedian Mr. Aryan Ahuja from New Delhi, who is presently in Mumbai, trying his luck in the film industry?”

“Can you please come to the point Jennifer?  You are really confusing me.  One minute you talk of Roohi, the next of Aryan Ahuja.  What do the two have to do with each other and more importantly, what do you have to do with this case?”

“Well, I know Aryan Ahuja has kidnapped Roohi.”

“What???!!!  How do you have this information and what proof do you have for your accusation?”

“I had good reason to suspect that Ahuja had kidnapped Roohi.  Based on my hunch, I hired a detective to locate Ahuja, who I was told was also missing.  It is basically a long story and I don’t have the time right now to tell you everything.  I heard that he is in his guest house on Pali Hill.  I followed him there and snooped around and saw Roohi and Cyrus Daruwala, a student whom Tara Dutta has been mentoring, with him.  I suspect Cyrus is also somehow involved in this whole business.  We need to get Roohi out safe from there.”

“Hmmm..... Alright, I shall help out.  Let’s send a posse of policemen there immediately.  We can  arrest them immediately.”   The ACP pulls out his mobile from his pocket.

“No ACP Thorat!  Don’t be so precipitous!  We need to watch our steps.  This man, Ahuja, is dangerous.  He could easily harm Roohi if you tried to break into the house.  I have a plan.  We can make him walk into our trap!”

“OK, what do you have in mind?”

Jennifer tells the ACP of her plan.  The ACP deputes calls up the police station and deputes two constables to hang around the guest house in plain clothes, in order to keep a watch on Ahuja’s and Cyrus’ movements.  

Next morning, Jennifer goes to the police station.  From there, she, alongwith the ACP and a couple of police constables in civvies leave for Pali Hill.  They go in the ACP’s private car, so as to be as inconspicuous as possible.

It takes them about an hour to get there.  They park their car some way off from the house and walk there, trying to be as quiet as possible.  The ACP and the constables take their positions.  Jennifer hangs around at a distance, waiting for Cyrus to come out.  

After a while Cyrus comes out of the house.  Jenny looks at him carefully.  This is the first time she is seeing him so closely, in person.  Can she take the risk of approaching him and talking to him?  She might be running a risk in doing so.  Her instincts, however, tell her that Cyrus is not like Ahuja.  Ahuja is a dangerous man with criminal tendencies.  Cyrus looks like a normal young person and is in all probability seriously misguided.  She approaches him.  

"Cyrus Daruwala?" she asks.

Read the next part of the story here.

Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.

Memory Intrigues - Chapter 21

This is the twenty first chapter of Memory Intrigues , a mystery series in the “Game of Blogs” for the team “ Dynamic Word Weavers” as a part of # CelebrateBlogging campaign by Blogadda.

 You can read the previous chapter here , or check out all the chapters on our FB page here

The story so far:

Next morning, Shekhar wakes up with a severe headache, the sofa creaks every time he moves. He acts like nothing has happened. He does not want to give Tara the pleasure of seeing him distressed. Tara’s usual yelling for Roohi gets on his nerves. After a while, he hears Tara scream for him, “Shekhu, Roohi-she’s gone.”

He hurries towards Roohi’s room, but he is certain Roohi is hiding somewhere. Her bed is strewn with crumpled bits of paper, Shekhar picks them up and reads them. It doesn’t make sense to him. He also finds a sketch of a dress Roohi has drawn. Panic wells up in his throat. He searches the entire house, even under the beds but finds no sign of Roohi.

He overhears Tara on phone with her mom, “Has Roohi come there?”

“No, it’s just that....”

He dashes out of the door; his baby doll is wandering on the streets. He has to find her.

_______________________________________________

Shekhar dashes out of the door.  He does not have the time to wait for the lift and runs down the stairs like a man possessed.  He bumps into a neighbour and looks through him.  The neighbour looks at this man who looks like he is half-crazed and wonders what has happened to the normally sauve, smiling man today.

A security guard is sitting inside the tiny cabin at the gate.  Shekhar stops.

“Security, aapne hamari bacchi ko dekha kya?”  (Did you see our little girl)?

The man looks up and shakes his head “Nahin saab.”  (No sir).

“Aap din bhar yahaan baithe baithe sote rahte hain kya?  Ek bacchi bhi nazar nahin aati?”  (Do you keep sleeping all day long?  Can’t you even notice a little girl?) Shekhar snaps back unreasonably.  The security guard looks at him flabbergasted, wondering what on earth this man is on about.  He is normally so nice and polite!

Shekhar rushes out onto the streets and stops for a moment, wondering which way he should go.  He suddenly feels very helpless when he realizes Roohi could have gone in any direction and he just has to search all over.  What if she has gone the other way?  By the time he gets there, she would have gone even further.  “God knows if she will be safe.  The poor little child!  Why did she do this?  She is so naive.  Oh God, please, please be with my Roohi and take care of her.  I’ll be eternally grateful to you and never ever lose my faith in you,” he pleads desperately while trying to bribe God in the same breath.  He just hopes she will not talk to any stranger, or even if she does, he can only hope that the stranger would turn out to be a Good Samaritan.

He decides to first look for her on the road leading left.  It leads to the park.  Maybe she has gone there?  He rushes down that road.  He bumps into passersby who turn around and curse him: “Aankhein nahin hai kya?”  “Aankhein hain ke button?”  “Saale, ghar mein ma bahen nahin hai kya?”  (Don’t you have eyes?  Don’t you have a mother or a sister at home?”)

He comes to a few side roads which he has to cross and runs across, holding his hands sideways to stop the oncoming traffic.  Two wheeler-, auto rickshaw- and car drivers honk and yell out “Marna hai kya?  Marna hi hai toh aur kahin ja ke maro.”  (Do you want to die?  If you do, go elsewhere and die.)  Shekhar gets a taste of the entire range of litany that the “Great Indian Public” has at its disposal.

He goes about 4 kms in that direction till he reaches the park.  The park is closed and there is no sign of Roohi as far as he can see from the gate.  He is tired as well as desperate and manages to get a ride from a sympathetic ‘rickshawwallah.’  They drive back slowly through the side lanes and then back to the main road in the other direction.  They spend about 3 hours just searching.  No luck!  Shekhar is totally shattered.  He decides to go back home.

*****

Tara has been desperately calling a lot of people, including friends and relatives whom Roohi knows, as well as Roohi’s friends.

“Hello Sanjana, has Roohi come to your house?”

“No, Aunty.”

“Hi Devika, has Roohi by any chance come to your house?”

“No, Tara.  What happened?”

“She is missing since morning.  I can’t imagine where she could have gone.  This is very abnormal behaviour for her.”

“Oh no!  Have you informed the police?”

“No, not yet.”

“Please do that immediately.  They can help find her faster than you could on your own.  Hurry up!  Don’t delay!”

“OK Devika, thanks a lot.  Will put the phone down now.  Need to make more calls.”  Tara is a bit miffed at this bit of unsolicited advice.

So it goes on.  There are no leads to help her.  She sinks down into a chair and sits there her head in her hands, stifling her sobs.  Just then Shekhar walks in looking haggard and all dishevelled.  Tara does not need to ask him anything; it is evident that his search has yielded nought.

“Why would she do something like this?  It is so unlike her” sobs Tara.

“.....” Shekhar does not answer.

“I know it is all my fault.  Say so, if you feel so too.  You don’t have to be diplomatic.  Tell me, you blame me for this, don’t you?” she explodes.

“Did I say anything?  Tara, have some sense!  Is this the time to get into all this?  I am as worried as you.  Stop being a nag!”

Tara bursts out into another hysterical bout of sobbing.  Shekhar walks over to her and puts his hand around her shoulder.

“For Heaven’s sake, pull yourself together Tara!  This is not the time to sit and cry.  We need to do something soon if we want to find our little Roohikins.  The more the delay, the greater the risk to her life.  Oh God!  Please, please keep Roohi safe.  The world is such a dangerous place for an innocent kid like her to be out alone on the streets.”

Tara takes a few deep breaths, gets up, goes and washes her face and comes back.  She reaches out for her mobile.

“Hello Mr. Murthy.  I am urgently in need of your help.  My daughter Roohi has gone missing.  Could you please spare a minute’s slot before the next programme to make an announcement to that effect?  We are willing to give a reward of Rs. 1,00,000 to anyone who finds her.  I shall mail you a copy of her photo right away.  She is 9 years old, fair, chubby and has her curly shoulder length hair in two ponytails.  She is wearing a pink night suit with a pink panther patchwork on the front.  She has taken her fluorescent pink backpack and her pink teddy with her.”

Promptly at 1 pm, the news of Roohi going missing is announced on “Ab Tak”. The fact that she is the daughter of Tara Dutta, a senior reporter with the channel is also mentioned.  Just that should draw more attention to the news.

Shekhar goes out to the local police station and tries to file an FIR.  The police officer on duty looks disdainfully at him and informs him:

“Nahin saab!  Report abhi darch nahin ho sakta.  24 ghanton ke baad hi darch kar sakte hain.”  (Sorry sir, we cannot file an FIR right away.  A missing complaint can be registered only 24 hours after a person goes missing).  It is now Shekhar’s turn to mutter the choicest of abuses under his breath.

*****

It is 1.30 pm.  Shekhar is back home from the police station.  Tara has not cooked anything that morning.  Neither of them has any appetite either.

“Tring tring.....tring tring.....tring tring”.  The sound of the phone ringing makes Shekhar jump up.  It is 1.45 pm.

“Hallo, Shekhar ....”

“Abe o Shekhar, Waker ke bacche.  Maloom hai.  Aapun ne hi tumko phone kiyela.”  (I know that already since I am the one who called you).

“Who are you?  What do you want?”

“Eh, Shekhar ke bacche, chup chaap sun.  Tumhari bacchii aapun ke kabze mein hai.  Kaayko TV pe itna shor gul macha raha hai be?  Aapun ko wo memory card chahiye.”  (Just listen quietly.  Your daughter is in my custody.  Why do you have to go and make a noise about this on TV?  I want the memory card.)

“Kaunsa...”  (Which.....)

“Eh shanya, aapun ko maloom hai, card tumhare paas hi hai.  Zyaada shahaanpan nahin dikhene ka, kya?  Main phir se phone karega.  Jagah aur time batayega.  Chup chaap aake woh card de deneka, samjha kya?  Agar puliss ke paas gaya, to tumhare gudiya ki dead body mil jaayegi.”  (Hey, you smart guy!  I know the card is with you.  Don’t act too smart.  I shall call again and inform you of the time and place.  Come there and hand over the card without much ado.  If you go to the police, you will receive your daughter’s dead body).

“Kaun ......” (Who.....)

Click.  There is a dead tone from the other end.  The call has been cut.

Shekhar blanches.

“What’s the matter Shekhar?  Who was it?”

Shekhar stares as if he’s seen a ghost.  Tara repeats her question.

“They have kidnapped Roohi.  They want the memory card.”

Tara’s jaw drops and her eyes go round with fright.

“Give it to them.  I want Roohi back safe and sound.  Damn that memory card.  It has been the cause of so much trouble in this house.”

Shekhar listens and remains silent for a while.  He is deep in thought.

“And what if they take the card and don’t return Roohi?” he thinks out aloud.

Read the next part of the story here.

Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.

Round Three of Celebrating Blogging!

Three cheers!!! We have made it to the third round!  Thanks to all those who supported us through our journey till here.

Please watch this space for links to the coming chapters and please continue to support us.

Chapter 21  Chapter 22  Chapter 23  Chapter 24  Chapter 25
Chapter 26  Chapter 27  Chapter 28  Chapter 29  Chapter 30

Memory Intrigues - Chapter 11

Our Team Logo done by Ruchita

This is the Eleventh chapter of Memory Intrigues , a mystery series in the “Game of Blogs” for the team “ Dynamic Word Weavers” as a part of # CelebrateBlogging campaign by Blogadda.

 You can read the previous chapter here , or check out all the chapters on our FB page here

The story so far:

In the bedroom, sleep totally eludes Shekhar and Tara.  Tara recollects how she told the editor that she has some thrilling news that can boost their channel’s TRP.  In return, they have to let her host the much hyped new talk show of their channel.  The avaricious editor agreed at once and showered Tara with bouts of appreciation.  Tara knows that she had not done right with Shekhar but this was the only option she had to resurrect her drowning career.  She cannot tolerate being humiliated every day in office.

Shekhar tosses and turns on the bed as thoughts of Jen shrouds his mind. The newsreader’s words strike like a bullet in his heart “Is Jennifer alive or has been brutally murdered?” He prays God again and again to keep Jen safe.

___________________________________________________

In the absence of real cocks to wake humans up to a new day, Tara’s clock takes on the onerous responsibility of jolting her out of her happy reveries.  She opens her eyes, not quite sure where she is.  She takes a few moments to come back to reality and suddenly thoughts of all that happened yesterday flood her befuddled mind.  That is enough to wake her up fully and get her out of bed, raring to go.

She goes into Roohi’s room to wake her up.  Roohi looks so innocent, her long eyelashes falling on her rosy, chubby cheeks.  The pink teddy tightly snuggled up in her arms only adds to the picture of innocence and vulnerability.  “Who would believe this is the same devil who talks like she is 90 and gets up to so much of mischief when she is awake” Tara thinks.  But then Roohi has changed so much in the past few weeks – how fractious she is getting these days, how cranky she is, how little interest she shows in her school work, how withdrawn she is!  For a moment, Tara wonders what has happened to her little imp.  She thinks of the phone call she received from Roohi’s class teacher informing her that Roohi is not quite herself in school these days and inquiring if all was well at home.  Tara had curtly informed the teacher that there was no problem, every child has her ups and downs and this is probably just a transient phase.  Then she remembers that she needs to get Roohi ready for school, finish her cooking and leave for work herself.  She gets back on her invisible roller shoes and flies around the house to get all her tasks done.

It is 9 am when Tara reaches office.  The boss is already there.  The office slowly comes to life with reporters, peons and other staff trickling in.  “No one seems to be concerned about punctuality these days!  What has happened to good old fashioned discipline?” she wonders.

At around 10 am, Tara gets a call from Cyrus.  “What now” she thinks as she rolls her eyes.  

“Good morning Madam” says Cyrus from the other end.

“Good morning”.

“Madam, after talking to you, I talked to my head of department and he has agreed to allow me to come to Mumbai immediately.  I am so delighted and wish to get off to a running start.  I have booked my flight and I will be in Mumbai by evening.  I shall report to your office tomorrow morning.  What time would be convenient”?

“Ummm....let me see!  I have a meeting with the Editor at 9.30 in the morning.  Then I have some other work to do.  You could come in by 2 pm.  Is that alright”?

“Oh, that is perfect!  Shall come in at 2 pm then”.

“A very well spoken young man”! she reflects.  “His accent sounds very refined his diction immaculate and he seems eager enough to work.  Well, that only time will tell”.

Tara leans back in her chair.  She lets out a deep sigh of contentment.  What could be better for her?  She had just got a sensational piece of news aired on last evening’s news telecast.  The boss, Mr. Raheja, has had no option but to give in to her demand and allow her to host the talk show.

Now she would have a lot of work to do.  The routine jobs would of course be there to be handled.  She would now have to work out a format for the show, short list the interviewees, send out invitations, fix up dates for the actual interviews.....there is not much time left for all this to be done.  The channel wants to air the first show by the beginning of October and it is now end of July.  Add to that she would be mentoring Cyrus.  She can feel the adrenalin rush.

Back at home the scene is a total contrast to that in Tara’s office.  Shekhar as usual sits with a cup of coffee at his table, his laptop open and his mind somewhere else.  It is now almost a week since Jennifer disappeared.  There seems to be no way of contacting her.  Where is she?  Is she safe?  How can he find out something about her?  Who would know?  How was she surviving?  Surely she would need money.  How much money did she have with her when she went missing?  A sudden thought occurs to him.  She might have withdrawn cash from somewhere or the other during this last week.  It would help to check her bank statement.  But where could he get that?  The last he knew, Jennifer used to bank with the State Bank of Travancore, Mattancherry branch in Kochi.  Maybe he could get some information from there?  He gets the contact number on Google search.  Thank God for technological progress!  They have made life so much simpler and faster.

“Good morning, Mr. Shekhar Dutta here.  I am speaking from Mumbai.  I wanted some information about my friend Ms. Jennifer Joseph, who is your customer”.

“Sorry, sir, but we are not authorized to give customer information to anyone”.

“Please listen to me.  Ms. Jennifer has gone missing since the past one week and I am unable to trace her anywhere.  I am extremely concerned about her security.  I wanted to know if there would be any record of her transactions indicating where she last withdrew cash from”.

“What you are asking for, Sir, is totally impossible.  I am sorry we cannot help out in this matter”.

Shekhar is exasperated and demands to speak to the bank manager.  The bank manager is equally unforthcoming.

“Sir, you should understand that the bank cannot divulge customer information to just about anyone unauthenticated person who calls the bank.  I am extremely sorry we cannot help you.  You don’t even know her account number.  So please Sir, it would be good if you stop wasting your time and ours”.  

Shekhar hears a click of the phone on the other side and is totally distraught.  He sits there holding his head in his hands.  Maybe he will now need to do what he was trying to avoid all these days – involve the police.

He goes to the local police station and informs them about Jennifer’s disappearance.

SI (digging his teeth) :  Sir, we cannot file FIR here.  Ms. Jennifer lives in Kochi.  You have to file complaint in police station in her area.

“But she said she was coming to Mumbai.  Surely you could lodge an FIR here and then contact your counterparts in Kochi?  How can you be so unhelpful when you are here to help the public”?

SI (looking contemptuously):  “Saab, jaaiye, Saab.  Humara time khali peeli waste nahi karneka.  Dikhai nahi deta kya, hum kitne busy hain?  Yeh nahi ho sakta”. (“Sir, please leave.  Don’t keep wasting our time.  Don’t you see how busy we are?  This cannot be done”.)

Shekhar is fuming but it does not help.  He stomps out of the police station and wanders around a bit.  “Bloody bureaucracy!  Each of them more corrupt than the other” he mutters to himself.

Source:  Google Images modified for use.

Read the next part of the story here

Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.