The bullet shot off from the barrel of the gun with a speed matching to the intensity of the hate that exploded deep within him. The gunshot made a loud deafening sound but fortunately it was drowned out by the blaring music that was emanating from the party. He waited long enough to see the bullet being lodged into the forehead of Venod Sharma. And just as the politician fell to the ground much to the shock of his friends at the party, he quickly dissembled the gun with the expertness of a pro and threw them into the large overhead water tank.
He then took the stairs that led from the terrace to the lobby and walked in a relaxed manner to the street that led to the front of the hotel. There was a huge commotion outside the circuit house where the party was being held. Ambulances with it’s siren ululating screeched to a halt outside and he stared along with a handful of people, curiously watching the procedures.
Police vans had started arriving. A few policemen walked into the entrance of the hotel from where he had just exited.
He walked away concentrating on relaxing and trying not to run. He knew he had to control the panic that he felt in his mind. He pushed down the bile that rose in his throat and walked to the main road where he hailed a cab. He closed his eyes trying to stop the shivering in his body.
As soon as he got home, he sat on the sofa with his head between his two hands. His wife saw his condition and was scared.
“What happened ji? Are you alright?”, she asked offering a glass of water to him
His eyes fell on the photo frame of his daughter. She was smiling and waving out, with a pink candy in one of her hands. The garland that adorned the photo came into his view. The tears started trickling slowly. He remembered how she held his hand for security when he took her to the carnival and when he made her sit on the huge giant wheel, she was terrified. But after two rounds on the Ferris wheel she learnt to enjoy the ride and started screaming with joy. The picture that was hanging on the wall was taken during this trip to the carnival.
Slowly his sobs turned louder, racking his body and his howls of grief broke his wife too. She held his head close to her bosom as he cried his heart out.
He had not shed a single tear even when he had lit the pyre of his little girl. His face had set into a hard, stone like resoluteness. But today, finally he was grieving, for his daughter whose life had been sacrificed for the sake of another’s greed and corrupt virtues.
His wife was consoling him when she saw the breaking news that was flashing on their TV.
“Venod Sharma was murdered today evening when he was busy partying with his friends in the circuit house. Just a few months back, Mr. Sharma was found guilty in the scam of adulterated mid-day meals in which 85 school children had died and more than 100 were hospitalized after being critically ill.
But in the course of recent investigations conducted by the CBI, Mr. Sharma was cleared of all charges and was acquitted. Mr. Sharma was celebrating his victory along with a few of his friends when a bullet fired by an unidentified assailant proved to be fatal. Mr. Sharma was killed on the spot.
Police are in search of Mr. Sharma’s assassinator but rumors are rife that this could be an act of the opposite party. Recently Mr. Sharma’s political party had a heated argument with the opposite party and there were quite a few fisticuffs being involved in the ugly brawl…”
The news reader’s voice droned on as she looked at her husband and pondered for a few seconds if her husband had been involved in this incident. But then she dismissed this incredulous idea instantly. After all he was just a common man who had been trained to endure, to take everything that had been dealt to him with a pinch of salt.