The Martyr

I am quite sure that no human, whose eyes shall chance upon this document, shall believe the words it contains. I do not write with the hope that I shall be freed from the chains of the asylum that bind me now. I write to silence that part of my heart which yearns to uphold the principles that my Master vouched for throughout his life.

My fingers quiver with the sheer magnitude of the truth that they are about to pen. I still shudder to recollect the events of that day.

It was a nice and fresh Friday evening. I stood on the side of the pathway leading onto the dais, beside Ram. He was excited and longing to see Master. I was dressed immaculately in white, exactly as Master always expected. White – the color of pristine love.

The trees around swayed gently in the evening breeze. Some people were whispering among themselves as Master seemed to be taking some time to come out. Some others, wrapped with shawls, just watched the proceedings in a withdrawn fashion. The birds made it a perfect evening with their melodious twitters.

Just then, Master stepped out of the house and came walking slowly towards the dais. He was about ten minutes late and his face seemed to be troubled by it.

Everyone brought their palms together to salute Master as he passed by them. I too did the same with all the reverence I had in my heart for him. Master halted in his steps when he saw me.

“My dear Govind, can you fetch my spectacles from the house? Forgetfulness is getting the better of this old man.”

I smiled in return for his grin and ran to the house. Master continued his walk towards the dais.

The spectacles were placed on top of Master’s wooden writing desk, beside the radio. Grasping it gently, I walked out into the soft sunlight.

Master had reached the dais and everyone had gathered around him: everyone, except one man who sat under one of the trees.

He had a green cloak wrapped around his gaunt body, and seemed to be lost in deep thought.

I knew every single person in the compound by face, except this man. And I was pretty much sure I had not seen him enter with all the others. I was puzzled as to how he got there. Now, however, after all that happened, his mode of entry is no longer a cause of bewilderment.

Master too seemed to have noticed him, despite not having his specs on. Smiling at him, Master spoke calmly, “My dear son, can you adjourn your thoughts for a few moments and join us in our prayer?”

The man in the green cloak did not seem to pay attention. It was then that I noticed the object that the man was staring at. He held a locket in his hands that he was twirling with his fingers.

“It must be the possession of a loved one that he has lost”, I thought to myself, although his face had no tinges of sorrow.

It was an unearthly face: white and expressionless. I quickened my steps towards the dais.

Master calmly repeated his question.

This time, however, the man in the green cloak raised his eyes and stared straight at Master. The red rays of the setting sun lighted his face and his thin, slit-like eyes glistened.

Master continued, “I haven’t asked for anything impossible. Step forward, son!”

The man in the green cloak grasped the locket tighter.

“Do not call me your son. I do not wish to be called a son of you people. I am a son of nobody. Do you get that you vermin?”

The manner in which he uttered the words sent a shiver down my spine. Somehow I felt this man meant harm. So I almost broke into a run to reach my Master on the dais.

“No no. Do not speak thus. We are the loved children of the lord who created us all. The lord who nourishes us all, the lord who…”

And then it happened...

For the next few moments, only one voice rang through everyone’s ears. A cruel voice that almost burned one’s insides with its echoes.

“I AM THE LORD OF THIS WORLD! AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a flash of blinding, green light and Master crumpled to the ground, dead. I lost my balance in shock and fell into one of the big bushes that aligned the sides of the pathway. Everyone witnessing this event gasped in unison but still stood riveted to the ground.

“THERE SHALL BE ONLY ONE LORD HENCEFORTH! THE DARK LORD! LORD VOLDEMORT!” he bellowed. I parted the leaves of the bush and stared.

The man in the green cloak was now chanting under his breath holding the locket in one hand and a wooden stick in another. I was just too stunned to even move. Within moments, an obscure mass of vapours emanated from within his body. It was as if his soul was coming out of his body. And then, the vapours dissolved into the locket. It shone brightly for a second and then grew normal.

The man in the green cloak guffawed as if elated by the success of his act and now stared at the crowd in front of him. They stood petrified with Master lying dead in their midst. He waved the stick, and one of the people in the crowd stepped forward, as if hypnotized. It was Ram. Another flick of the stick – a gun appeared in his hand. Another flick – Ram fired three bullets into Master’s limp body.

There was another swish and a wind swept across the faces of everyone in the crowd. I watched helplessly from within the bush. The people immediately caught hold of Ram, who dropped his gun. Some others lifted Master’s body and started running towards the house.

The man in the green cloak chuckled hideously and vanished in a swirling mass of robes.

I do not know how long I sat there within that bush, utterly stunned by the happening. I grew doubtful of my own senses. I shut my eyes and dearly wished that I had been hallucinating. I waited for someone to come and wake me up.

Nothing happened.

It was night when I opened my eyes. I was lying within the house on a soft white rug. There were several feet walking about within the hall. I tried lifting my head, but it ached. Employing all the strength left in my weak limbs, I sat up slowly. For a moment, I wondered if it could all have been just a dream.

That was when I noticed Master’s spectacles still clutched in my left hand. And that was when the radio in the hall blared out, loud and clear, over the babble of voices, “We announce with profound grief that Mahatma Gandhiji has passed away…assassinated by Nathuram Godse...”


(Afterword : (For non-HP readers) It would be mentioned in HP books that Voldemort killed a Muggle (non-magic person) to create one of his seven horcruxes, The horcrux in Salazar Slytherin's locket. But Rowling would not have mentioned who that Muggle was that Voldemort killed. All that I have done is make Gandhiji that person)