The Bloody Blessing

The Bloody Blessing

Reading Time: 8 minutes

(Entry for Write India contest August 2015)

Everybody ran towards the court chamber after the guard hits the bell signalling the time of a case hearing. Outside the chamber, two persons were sitting in despair.

“Are you a criminal?” asked the first person to the second one.

“No. I am not. I am innocent. I haven’t done anything” replied the second one.

“Aah.. That’s normal. Every thief says he is not a thief.”

“But I am really innocent!”

“I too have done a crime and I commit it. So you must too.”

“How can a person commit for anything that he hasn’t done.”

“Ok. So tell me your story. I think the current case hearing will take more than 15 minutes. So we have time to go. Next turn can be mine or yours.”

He thinks for a while, stands up, cleaned his eyes with his handkerchief and sat besides the first person again.

“I am a reporter who works for a TV news channel. I usually don’t cover criminal reports but that day I became a criminal in eyes of everyone without getting any chance to prove myself.”

“Ok. Mr. Reporter, please continue with your story.”

Ten days ago 

The prime minister’s office became clamorous when a letter was received by an unknown person. This was not merely a letter, but a threat.

I am not a politician, not a brand name but has the capability to thrash the government. And this is my challenge!

I write here just to intimate that I am going to kidnap the criminal ‘Khan’ who is about to be hanged after two days in Tihar jail.

Now you must be thinking who I am and what do I want. Well you will come to know later. “

The PM called an emergency meeting and checks with the officials if the criminal Khan has any terrorist connection. Every measure was taken to safeguard that criminal but all in vein.

Next day when the jail authorities searched for Khan the criminal, they were disappointed as he was not there in his cell.

Now keeping the terrorist connection point of view, a high alert was declared in whole city. Nobody was allowed to pass nearby the jail premises. All exits of the city were closed, the land, the water and the sky. All the public conveniences were halted for a day. All types of forces were engaged in the search task of Khan the criminal. Now Khan was a terrorist in the eyes of government.

Soon I came to know about the incident and as usual I treated this just as a piece of news. Usually a common man does not bother about such things. I hadn’t thought that this incident, that was merely a news material for me, one day it will turn into a worst life time memory.

Just after the day when the criminal was kidnapped, I received a hoax call threatening me to be killed if I don’t support the caller. I was not sure but my senses said they were the same kidnappers who were in news. It didn’t get me more time to understand that I will be used by those criminals just to fulfill their objectives. By the time I could plan to catch the caller red-handed by reporting this to police, I got another call that my father was kidnapped.

I was already in a miserable condition and my family was also passing through a weak time as my father was not well since a long time. I remembered my god and prayed to save my father’s life than mine.

That day was the worst day of my life. I couldn’t understand why me? Why my life has been put to threat just for saving a criminals life. I got another call after two hours.

But this time the call shocked me. There was a lady other side. The voice said “Meet me at Starbucks cafe at 2 pm today. Search for blue silk scarf. And, try informing police and see what I can do with your father.”

The source was same, the intention was same, but the tone was different. I didn’t understand what’s going on, and why ME? Why would a lady kidnap a criminal from a jail? It was already 1 pm and I had to leave to the café before anything abrupt happens.

I reached the venue before time. I choose to stand outside and soon to my amaze a lady with a blue silk scarf entered the café. The café was very quiet that day. I took out my handkerchief to clean the sweat from my head and with a super low courage, I entered the café.

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. ..

O god! A knife! ………. God please save me! I kept singing hanuman chalisa while coming near to her table. She was a young lady dressed in a simple white suit. By her looks no one could say that she is a kidnapper.

“Believe me I will not harm you. I am here just to send you a message. Your father is safe.” said the girl after sipping a small portion of her coffee.

“What do you want from me?” I said in curiosity.

She handed me the blood stained knife covered with the blue scarf along with a letter.

“Who are you and what do you want?” I repeated in a frightened tone.

“Today there is a press conference in PM office at 4pm regarding the Khan kidnapping matter. So Mr. Reporter, I want you to attend the conference and hand over this knife and the letter in the PM office. My two spies will follow you to the prime minister’s office. Don’t try to call police or involve any other person. You know what can be the result.”

“But what’s there in the letter? Where is my father? I want to talk to my father first.” I was devastated from the whole scene and soon broke down in front of her. “Please don’t do this to me. Please let me meet my father….”

“You have no option.” she interrupted me in between, gulped her last sip of coffee and stood up.

A strong muscular hand from behind hold my wrist. I turned around to see a tall wrestler-looking man stood there; he said “Let’s go!”

I handed over the knife and the letter to the officials. The letter was read in front of whole media.

As you know I am not a politician, not a famous personality but still you all were waiting for my next letter. So here it goes….

Yes, I have kidnapped ‘Khan’ the criminal. You must be thinking where is he and what do I want out of this? My answer is on the knife that comes to you along with this letter. The criminal is no more and the blood on the knife proves it.

The criminal is punished. Justice is done!

Present Day

“I was arrested on the spot and after spending a week behind the bars, today I’ve got a chance to prove myself. I will not forgive her for what she has done to me. Today I am going to tell the truth who is the mastermind behind this.” said Mr. Reporter.

“That’s… that’s really absurd. How a lady can be a kidnapper and if is it, then what shall be her motive. That’s interesting! I am eager to know what happens next in your case.”

A loud noise came from the decision chamber signaling the end of the ongoing case. The bell rang again and next case was called.

“Hey it’s my hearing.” said Mr. Reporter.

“All the best…

….. And by the way, Mr. Reporter, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Mr. Bhagat, hope to see you soon!” continued the first person.

As soon as Mr. Reporter entered the chamber, a huge crowd surrounded him. The reporters, media personalities and the policemen all had only one question in their mind “What was your motive behind the murder?”

Just before the judge started reading the case file, a noisy discussion between the court officials baffled the whole media sitting there. Someone rightly said that media personalities smell the words. The crowd became uncontrollable when judge finally spoke.

“There’s another letter.” said Mr. Judge.

Here it goes….

As you all know I am not a politician, not a famous personality but I am the one who can do what government cant. This is probably the last letter from my side.

Why the hell government is concerned about a bloody criminal who has done a punishable crime? Why is government so much concerned about the death of a criminal who was about to be hanged the very next day he was kidnapped? Why media persons are concerned so much about the criminal.. To be in news?

Why government is not concerned about the persons who are dying every day in hospitals due to lack of availability of organs? Why are people not concerned about the patients who spend their entire life starving for the organs they need? Why no one is concerned about those, who leave their families behind every day because no one in their blood relation is ready to donate the organ they need?

Why so much havoc is created on the demise of that criminal? He was just a criminal who had to face a punishment, be it the government way or a common man way.

I don’t think it’s a crime if some needy persons get benefitted from his share of punishment. I have given him the right punishment – death with a blessing.

There are many patients in our country who are in a very long waiting list for getting their kidney, liver and heart transplant done. 90% of the patients die before their turn. Why can’t we decrease the count of the list by adding criminals into the donors’ list?

If saving many needy persons’ lives by taking a selfless criminal’s life is called a crime, then yes I have done a crime. I am a criminal.

– Dr. Neha

There was a huge silence in the court after the letter was read. Then everyone turned around the person in doubt – the lawyers, policemen and the media too. All created a chaos.

Order Order please! The judge shouted in anger.

“I’d like to ask some questions regarding the scene from you Mr. Reporter. Who gave you the letter? What’s your connection with the lady doctor who wrote the letter?” he continued.

Mr. Reporter was silent. He was shocked from the incident and the words in the letter.

“If you have nothing to say, you can be the culprit in view of the government.” said the judge.

“Excuse me my lord.” A gentle voice came from the entry door.

“Who are you?” asked the judge.

“I am Mr. Bhagat, the defense lawyer of Mr. Reporter” he replied.

Mr. Reporter lifts his criminal looking face up, cleaned his eyes from handkerchief and saw in astonishment. He was the same Mr. Bhagat he told his story outside the chamber.

“My Lord, Mr. Reporter hasn’t done anything. He has nothing to do with this case. He was used just as a medium to convey the killer lady’s message to the government.” Mr. Bhagat continues as he completely entered the chamber.

He moves towards the reporter who was standing in the hearing cell, and continues “He is a simple guy hail from a small village. He lives with his father who was suffering with kidney failure since 5 years and was in a miserable condition. You will be pleased to know that his father got his kidney transplant yesterday only. I have all the evidences which prove the fact that he is innocent and has no link with that lady.”

Mr. Reporter can’t believe his words. Ahh, that’s something I didn’t tell him. He looks in Mr. Bhagat’s eyes. That was the best eye contact two persons can have for thanksgiving. His falling tears were enough to show his thanks to Mr. Bhagat who bought him the news of his father’s transplant. Some people are like this only; they come in our lives as a stranger and do something unexpected. Mr. Bhagat did not speak anything to Mr. Reporter but his silence spoke everything.

The real hero of the story was the lady who supported a noble cause and selflessly helped Mr. Reporter’s father. She was a Nephrologist by profession whose sole purpose in meeting the reporter was to prove her point in front of everyone. She used him only to pay in return the treatment of his father. It was Khan’s kidney that was transplanted into reporter’s father.

There are two types of persons on earth, the ones who feel the change and the ones who bring the change. Dr. Neha was among them. She didn’t fear about herself. May be she will be punished harshly as per the government laws, but she was successful in bringing the change.

She was successful in doing what the government was not capable of.

If readers didn’t like what she has done, then please donate generously. If you can’t, no-one can’t. Be the change.

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