May 1, 2009

One Little Scar (Part 1)

“College Youth Was Genius Scientist

September 4th, 2009, Chennai: In a stunning revelation at the Anna University premises this morning, R. Nitin Kumar, a twenty year old Bio-engineering undergraduate, proclaimed in public that he was the reincarnation of late Padma Sri Dr. Nathan, the Mumbai-born nuclear physicist, who died under mysterious circumstances a couple of decades ago.

Making his statement on the stage set for the University’s thirty first anniversary celebrations, Mr. Nitin revealed several unknown facts about Dr. Nathan’s private life. Dr. Chandran, who was a close friend and associate of Dr. Nathan, was coincidentally the chief-guest at the function. In a statement to the press after the function, he revealed that all of Mr. Nitin’s statements regarding Dr. Nathan were true and that he was surprised by Nitin’s knowledge. He, however, refused to comment on Mr. Nitin’s claim of being Dr. Nathan’s reincarnation.

It is indeed well known that Dr. Nathan was found dead in his home in Chennai on the night of 4th September 1989, after being reportedly missing for a week. After thorough investigations and proceedings for two years, the Madras High Court pronounced a verdict of death due to natural causes in August 1991. However, this incident has sparked off a new debate over the cause of Dr. Nathan’s death, especially since Mr. Nitin announced, “I was Dr. Nathan and I was murdered!”

Mr. Nitin also expressed confidence in identifying the culprits responsible and began screaming for revenge. The college authorities were forced to drag him off the stage and they eventually handed him over to the police for investigations. The Chennai Director General of Police, Mr. Karuna Sagar, when contacted said that Mr. Nitin was currently being referred to an experienced psychologist to undergo mental tests. He, however, declined to reveal Mr. Nitin’s place of custody.”


Inspector Yajur folded up the newspaper with a smile and placed it on the glass table in front of him. He picked up a small, brown diary from the table and walked out of the room, chuckling to himself.

***

“I want him dead”, pronounced the boss and flung out a newspaper onto the mahogany table. Kabir unfolded it and saw the passport-size photograph of a young man, smiling back at him, from within an article. His name was printed as Nitin Kumar and there was a thick red circle drawn around his face.

“Looks quite dumb. What did he do?” asked Kabir, looking up from the newspaper.

“Not your business”, the boss replied firmly. His back was turned towards Kabir. There was a weird pause for a moment, interrupted only by the tapping of computer keys.

"What do I get?” asked Kabir, pushing aside the newspaper.

“All the money you want. And more...” answered Shukla from the opposite corner of the room, pointing at a suitcase lying on the table. He was seated in front of a computer and was typing and clicking the mouse fervently. Kabir noticed that his rotund face was drenched with sweat and that he bit his lower lip intermittently.

Kabir stared at the small suitcase on the table, slid his palms into his pant pockets and let out a deep breath.

“He’s in custody. Extra risk...” he said, shrugging his shoulders in a matter-of-fact manner.

“No it’s not!” shouted the boss, turning around for the first time. Kabir could sense a tinge of nervousness in his voice today. The sound of the keyboard keys halted and Shukla looked up.

After a moment, the boss explained in a cooler tone, “Kothari’s on the spot. He’ll give you the signal when the coast is clear. You just have to go in and finish it off without a sound.”

Kabir nodded and picked up the suitcase lying on the table. Swinging it lazily in his arms, he walked towards the exit and opened the door.

“So you guarantee to finish the job right?” asked the nervous voice of Shukla.

Kabir turned to gaze at Shukla and the boss for a moment. “I can guarantee only one thing”, he said, pausing at the doorstep, “That man’s photo will appear again in the newspaper... under a different column though...”

There was a soft chuckle and Kabir vanished behind the closing door.

The boss waited and listened. Once the sound of Kabir's footsteps faded away, he walked over briskly towards Shukla and stared at the computer monitor in front of him.

“Any success?”

“Yes. There’s this Ian Stevenson guy from Canada who has done research on this and he has concluded that it is possible. People can remember memories of their past lives. They might even have physical similarities carried over from their previous births, he says.”

The boss instantly reached out and pulled the newspaper that lay on the table. He stared at the face of Nitin Kumar in the article, especially at the scar above his left eyebrow. He looked up and found Shukla gaping at the scar as well, with wide open eyes. Both their minds raced backwards in time towards a single, moonlit night... twenty years ago...

***

The night was silent except for the muffled sounds of flowing water. The wooden cabin was lit by a single candle that flickered in a chill breeze blowing in through a broken glass window. Beside the candle sat two solemn-looking men on wooden chairs. Away from them, in a dark corner of the cabin, sat Dr. Nathan with his hands folded, staring at the wooden floorboards beneath his feet.

“So you’re not going to open your mouth?” asked one of the two solemn men. There was no response from the scientist. The two solemn men looked at each other. One of them was a twenty-years-younger Shukla and the other was his similarly young boss.

“Patriotism...Hmm...” uttered the boss and smirked, “Funny isn’t it? Men draw lines to live peacefully. The same men are then ready to die for those stupid lines.”

Shukla grinned. The boss checked his wristwatch in the flickering light.

“Look Mr.Scientist! I can’t waste any more time. Just tell me where the design documents are. I’ll let you go. Don’t be foolish and think you are saving your country by not talking.”

Dr. Nathan’s eyes looked up at the boss for an instant and returned to the floor once again. In the yellow light cast by the candle, a scar over his left eyebrow glowed red with fresh blood.

“I’ll not keep pleading, Mr.Scientist. You’re life is not worth to me any more than just a bullet.”

“Then why torture?” asked Dr. Nathan, still staring at the floor, “Just kill me”

The boss let out a sigh and stood up. Shukla took the cue and blew out the candle.

***

The same Shukla, sagged back in his chair, twenty years later.

“We shouldn’t have killed him boss...”

Shukla’s tone was almost reduced to a whimper. His lower lip quivered with same intensity as his watery eyes as he stuttered, "He... He's now...back...for revenge...”

“He won’t have it...” the boss uttered firmly through gritted teeth. His right hand was crumpling the newspaper sheets. “At least not in this new birth of his...”

***

A police jeep screeched to a halt outside a dilapidated wooden cabin and Inspector Yajur alighted. Sub-inspector Kothari and a couple of other constables, who had been standing guard at the entrance to the building, came running towards the jeep, and saluted Yajur. Inspector Yajur nodded and walked briskly towards the rotting door and unbolted it.

“I have some enquiries to make with Nitin. I do not wish to be disturbed for any reason for the next half an hour”, he said in a commanding tone and walked in, bolting the door behind him, even before Kothari could nod.

Once within the cabin, Yajur blinked in the semi-darkness. As he took a step forward, the floorboards creaked beneath his feet. There was the soft mew of a cat and a dark form stirred in a corner of the room.

“Have you brought what I asked for?” questioned the dark figure.

Inspector Yajur nodded.

***

Outside the wooden cabin, the two constables stood guard at the bolted door. Away from their view, beneath a tree that grew on the banks of a narrow river, stood Sub-inspector Kothari.

Kicking a pebble into the flowing water in disgust, he dialed a number on his mobile phone.

“Hello Kabir. Not yet. You got to wait...”

To Be Continued...

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