"MARRIED TO A MURDERER"
I wanted to write this as a novella, but I wasn’t sure. So I wrote it as a short story. Enjoy! Do comment.]
Siddhartha Mehta squirmed.
“Oh goodness, that just feels awesome.” He moaned as the masseuse began to knead at the muscles and tissues in his shoulders. His body relaxed, and he shuddered as waves of euphoria ran through his body.
“Keep still, sir. Or I’ll have to tie you down.” Sherry, the masseuse giggled.
“Can’t rape the willing, darling.” Siddhartha chuckled, as he felt warm oil being poured down his back.
Mashallah Mashallah… The cell phone announced its existence.
Saakshi Calling… flashed in large black letters against the bright background. What does she want?
“Get your butt over here right now.” Saakshi shouted before he could even greet her with a formal ‘hello’.
“Whoa. Okay. Wh-” He started.
She hung up.
* *
There was a crowd at the main entrance. As he pulled his car into the driveway, he heard people shouting at him, flinging their arms, trying to catch his attention. Cameras flashed, large pools of light originating momentarily and then going out, leaving a subtle vacuum, a place devoid of light and darkness both, an intermediate.
Mr. Mehta… Mr. Mehta… they were shouting, it seemed in a peculiar fashion, like an abstract rhythm of sudden shouts.
* *
Once inside, he faced Saakshi. She was pacing back and forth, but it seemed mechanical, as if the steps were calculated, premeditated. Her face had the perfect amount of make up, with her dress clinging provocatively around her, as if she’d dressed herself for the occasion.
“Where were you?” She snapped as he entered the room.
“Relaxing… What’s goi-?”
“Where were you last Friday ?” her question had a certain edge to it, an edge of acknowledgement, it seemed, like a teacher asking any student a question, whose answer she already knew.
Before he could wrap his head around the question amid all the confusion and chaos, a police officer came to him.
“I believe those questions are ours, ma’am.” He politely said to Saakshi, without looking at her, he his eyes fixed on Siddhartha, the eyes of a hunter on its prey.
“You’ve been accused of murder of Rahul Verma.” He announced. “Arrest him” he ordered.
Siddhartha’s mind did not register his wife crying, or the reporters barking questions at him, or even the bumpy ride to the police station. He was shocked, numb. He’d been arrested. Arrested for murder.
* *
The investigation started, and the question returned.
“Where were you last Friday?” the cop’s voice was stern, demanding.
“I want my lawyer.” He answered flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“Very well Mr. Mehta. But just so you know, that’s the first statement of guilty people.” Shindey, the cop said, his voice carrying a hidden threat, and left the cell.
* *
Life plays the weirdest games, and the worst ones; he thought, as he remembered the Last Friday.
Last Friday had been the happiest day of his life. Siya had forgiven him, and they were back to together. He remembered everything. Siya- the love of his life. Siya- Saakshi’s sister. Siya- who wanted to be a doctor, but had financial problems. Siya- whose own sister hated her. Siya- whom he wanted to marry before her sister proposed to him. Siya- who felt betrayed when he left her. Siya- who never knew why he left her to marry her own sister. Until Last Friday. He’d told her. He’d confessed that it was him who’d made a deal with Saakshi to help Siya with her money problems. In return, Saakshi asked him to marry her. And he did. He had confessed and Siya had listened. She had sat silent for a long time, letting his words sink in. Finally she’d forgiven him.
But I cannot tell that to anyone. I promised Saakshi that he’d not speak of it. No! They’d disgrace her; they’d call her a gold digger. No! He thought I can’t do this to her. No….
* *
The newspapers next day printed Saakshi’s photo with MARRIED TO A MURDERER printed underneath. They added her to the list of the infamous Tamara West, Asha Bandele, Doreen Lioy, Carol Ann Boone, Anna Eriksson, Dagmar Polzin (they were married to convicted murderers) and others far before the judgment had been passed.
The newspapers next day printed Saakshi’s photo with MARRIED TO A MURDERER printed underneath. They added her to the list of the infamous Tamara West, Asha Bandele, Doreen Lioy, Carol Ann Boone, Anna Eriksson, Dagmar Polzin (they were married to convicted murderers) and others far before the judgment had been passed.
Saakshi was ecstatic beyond limits. She was a legend, a saga. She loved her title: Married to A Murderer.
* * * * * * * * *
Shrikant Shindey, popular among friends as ‘Sherlock Shindey’ was not entirely convinced. It was true that Rahul Verma was Sid’s business rival. True that Sid’s watch was found on the scene. But his voice, Shindey mused, held guilt, betrayal. He was innocent, and Shindey sensed it. Plus he detected hidden, and beautifully masked delight in Saakshi’s voice when he’d interrogated her. He asked the judge for more time and dug into Sid’s past.
Apparently, as he found out, Siya was Saakshi’s sister. The same Siya who loved Sid. The triangle confused him and he dug into their pasts. Their childhood was interesting, Shindey mused, as he talked to old family friends. Saakshi hated Siya- for she was weak and got all the attention. She was a huge attention seeker, and had married Sid only to steal him from her. Moreover Siya was also in Mumbai last Friday. A coincidence? Fortunately, he did not believe in coincidences.
He submitted his findings to the lawyer who then managed to create enough suspicion for a more thorough investigation and let Sid out on bail.
* *
* *
Saakshi was still enjoying the attention. She loved it. The whole world, she told herself is hanging on every word she says. She’d cried in front of everyone and celebrated her victory behind doors. She’d won! And Siya had lost! She was living her dream.
Then it happened.
Sid got out on bail. She panicked. She hadn’t prepared for that! The camera was again following her. She felt immense pain and felt her title being snatched away from her. The cops can’t find her. No! She can’t lose. No!
She screamed.
**
Two weeks later, Sid died of a heart attack. He’d taken the wrong medicines together, and that too, a fatal dose. The maid in charge of his meds was sentenced to 14 yrs prison.
What others did not know that it had been the only day in the 2 years of their marriage that Saakshi had personally bought his meds.
* *
She cried again in front of the world, all attention again focused upon her. One of the reports still entitled her as Married to a Murderer. They were wrong, but not entirely.
Atleast it was true for Sid!
__END__
SOURCE BY-MANOJ ARORA
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM
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