Ashok tapped the cab driver on his shoulder and said, “Pull over to the side and drop me off here”. The cab disgorged him on to the kerb. Ashok had decided to walk the remaining distance to his home, just to be discreet.
It was past 8pm. The night was cold and miserable. The wind howled like a banshee and with its cold fingers caressed Ashok’s face, as he pulled his beanie tighter on his head. Then, it started to sprinkle rain. A clap of thunder detonated like a bomb above and the lightning bolt shattered the glass sky into shards. He quickened his pace to a slow jog and reached his front door just before the heavens opened up and the rain fell in torrents. He punched in the code on the digital lock on the front door and entered his house.
“Rekha!” he shouted for his wife, knowing well that she would not be at home. He just wanted to make sure.
He went into the study just across the lounge, flopped on the comfortable chair and took a deep breath.
“The b@#%h! Why is she doing this?” he asked himself, referring to his wife Rekha. Three months ago, Ashok had found out, accidentally, that his wife was cheating on him. That day, when he about to leave for the office, Rekha’s mobile, which was on the couch, rang. Rekha was in the shower. Ashok decided to take the call, but it cut off before he could reach it. He then looked at the text message which came through immediately. “Honey. Call me when you can”. The caller was someone by the name of Rahul. Ashok had been confused and puzzled. It only took him a few minutes to confirm that Rahul was indeed his langotiya yaar from India. What was hell was going on?
Ashok and Rahul, both from Mumbai, were as inseparable as the Siamese twins. They grew up together, went to the same school, boarded together, and graduated from the same university. Ashok landed a job in Bengaluru while Rahul lived and worked in Mumbai. When Ashok was transferred to Mumbai office, two years later, he was delighted. It was then that he met Rekha in a party and instantly took a liking for her. They dated for a couple of months, at the end of which Ashok proposed to Rekha. Rekha did not appear too keen at that time but when Ashok’s migration to Australia came through, she readily agreed to his proposal. They got married in a whirlwind wedding and left for Sydney. The first two years were a bit of a struggle for them in settling down but after that Ashok secured a decent job in IT security and Rekha worked part time in fashion design. When Varun was born, Ashok was over the moon. Life was treating him kindly. They bought a house on mortgage and settled down to a comfortable lifestyle. That was 10 years ago. Now, with this revelation, Ashok’s life was in tatters.
Ashok, using his IT security skills, hacked into Rekha’s mobile, her social media account, her email account etc to find out more about her infidelity. He learnt that Rahul had a failed marriage. He was single and divorced. He had migrated to Australia about six months ago and had been in touch with Rekha on regular basis, over the years.
Ashok had not paid much attention to the rumours about Rekha’s romantic relationship with Rahul and their breakup when he had proposed to her.
Rekha was plotting to divorce Ashok, marry Rahul, and leave their son, Varun, with Ashok. The ground for divorce would be a case of domestic violence. Rahul was coaching her to provoke Ashok into physically assaulting her knowing that Ashok had a short fuse, but Ashok had mellowed over the years. Now, Ashok understood why Rekha was acting strangely in the last few months and always looking to pick a fight with him.
In one of the emails Rekha had said to Rahul, “He is not taking the bait. What to do?”. Rahul had simply said, “Plan B?”. “Was Plan B to kill me?” Ashok was paranoid. It was on that day that he changed his personal will, nominated his next of kin as Varun and his guardianship responsibilities to his uncle in Melbourne.
Today, he was laying a trap for Rekha & Rahul. Varun had a two-day school camp to attend in the Hunter Valley. Ashok had offered to be a parent help in the camp site and stay overnight with the school kids. His real plan was to drop Varun off in the camp site and drive back to Sydney to catch Rekha & Rahul red handed in their act. He also knew that it was Rahul’s birthday that day.
He packed his bags for Varun and himself that evening and drove off to Hunter. He knew that Rekha was planning to celebrate Rahul’s birthday in a restaurant and return home after that.
He slid his hand in his coat pocket and felt the cold metallic touch of the object. He lie in wait, like a crouching tiger.
He woke up from his cat nap when he heard noises inside the house. He peered through the peep hole in the door. Rekha and Rahul were at home. They were sitting on the couch. Rekha was in a sheer negligee sitting in Rahul’s lap and kissing away passionately.
Ashok came out of the study and walked into the lounge room. “Hey love birds”, he cried. Rekha jumped off Rahul’s lap like a startled gazelle. Rahul looked stunned and was speechless.
“Happy birthday buddy”, Ashok said as he took the revolver out of his coat pocket and pumped three bullets into Rahul. One to his head and two into his heart. Bang! Bang! Bang! The loud thunder noise outside muffled the gun shots. Rahul died instantly. He slumped into the sofa with blood gushing out like a spring
Ashok coolly placed the revolver on the coffee table and flopped into his favourite rocking chair.
Rekha went crazy. She shrieked, “What have you done? You killed him”. In a fit of rage, she picked up the revolver and shot three times into Ashok’s chest. Bang! Bang! Bang! Ashok did not seem to feel the gun shots. It was as if the bullets just passed through him. He kept smiling.
Immediately there were knocks on the main door, “Open the door. It’s the police”. The door came crashing to the floor and a couple of police officers walked in shouting, “Drop the gun and raise your hands up in the air”. Rekha dropped the gun and started wailing.
The police officer asked Rekha, “Did you just kill that man on the sofa?”
Rekha sobbingly said, “Not me. My husband Ashok killed him. He is over there, sitting in the rocking chair”, pointing to the rocking chair.
The two police officers exchanged bewildered glances. One of them said, “Ma’am. We are here to inform you that your husband Ashok was killed in a road accident this evening on the highway. Your son Varun got away, with a few small bruises. We want you to come with us to identify the body”
At the point, Varun tore himself away from the police officer, ran to Rekha, held her, and said, “Mummy. Daddy is dead.”
“That’s not possible”, wailed Rekha, “Can you not see him rocking in the chair?”
The police officer said, “Lady. There is no one in the rocking chair”. Turning to Varun, he asked, “Mate. Do you see your daddy in the chair?” Varun shook his head and said, “No”.
Rekha shrieked, “But look. The chair is rocking”. The chair was indeed rocking. The officer walked up to the huge window opposite the chair and closed it and said, “Probably because of the draft”. Ashok smiled evilly and stopped rocking. “See! It is not rocking now”, said the cop.
Very soon, the place turned into a crime scene and was buzzing with activities. Ambulances & police cars were flashing their lights and the forensic team were on the job looking for fingerprints on the revolver and other places.
The cop said, “Lady. You are under arrest for murder”. Rekha was handcuffed and was taken away. As the cop was walking back to his car, he noticed the rocking chair was in motion, from the corner of his eye. He turned, looked perplexed, shrugged his shoulders as he bundled Rekha into the police car.
Ashok continued his rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth….
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