Shaan and I

Many things have happened in the past. Things that should not have happened - but they did. Well, the world is not under my control; hell; not even I am under my control. But that is how it always has been and so here we are - staring at the beautiful sunset; Pretty; Nostalgic; Symbolic; but I am bored of it. I am bored of music. I am bored of talking. I am bored of myself. There isn't much to do in this tiny village of Mulai.

For an old man like me, time becomes stagnant. Life is all but routine with no precedence. A routine of moments I do not want to live. Why should I? I do not want to spend the end years of my life whining as an enthralled pig. But is there anything I can do about it? Life after all, is not under my control. Sometimes I sit back and ponder on how I became what I am - I have all the time in the world. I cannot help but think how all desired reflections of life are balanced on critical tiny time frames. Where one silly mistake can break the reflection into shards that poke and hurt you for the remainder of your time. The world will not judge you for the ninety-nine things you do right but for the one thing you do wrong. But that is okay. I only ask, who is the world to judge us? They fall for all the sins and laugh at our mistakes from the deepest of creeks, until the spotlight shines on one of them. Then they burn in the light. So, all of them live in the shadows hiding and hoping to never be caught under the light. You are a criminal only if you are caught doing the crime.

If you think I am talking about Shaan, you are correct. He is my son. It is his 36th birthday tomorrow- but he doesn't remember; or perhaps he doesn't want to remember! We had a pleasant life; one filled with joy and anticipation. Finances were not a problem, unlike in my youth. Delectable love was served on the table every morning and we could not stop but be infected by contagious laughter - My son, my daughter in law and my granddaughter. Oh, what lovely days we'd make!

But all desired reflections of life are balanced on tiny critical time frames. One mistake, and its all gone in the blink of an eye. Shaan and Mallick were investigating a scam at their office. Being the Chief Technical Officer at Ottoberg Corporation, Shaan kept it discrete. He eventually became the centre piece of the scam - won the trust of all the corrupts, secretly noting down their actions and gathering data to expose them once and for all. It was eighteen months ago, I remember. "Just a few more days and it will be done" he told me at times, but never completely disclosed the details. I too did not pay heed to his work. Perhaps I should have.

I only learned of the details from the media one fine morning. Shaan did not have breakfast with us that day. 'Corruption at its peak! Sly CTO cheats hundreds of crores of public money; Dupes the government.' read the headline on every news channel.

"Don't worry, I'll make this alright. Trust me" Shaan smiled and left the house in a hurry.

A project was initiated by Ottberg Corp. in collaboration with the state government. Several divisions were established under different categories ranging from public health to environmental management. Any individual from the state could donate money to the division he supported. The money collected under the division would be used transparently for the benefit of the general public.

"We all earn money in our lives, but what we yearn for is peace. There is no greater peace than knowing that you have helped someone in need. So, this initiative by our government shall provide peace to the rich and proper services to the poor" the Chief Minister couldn't have been more enthusiastic about his work "your funds will be used in sectors chosen by you, drafted by us. This shall be the greatest charity run organisation in the history of mankind. We shall show the world the meaning of humanity that they have forgotten." I remember the applause that followed his speech vividly. Some were sceptic, some were enthusiastic, but all were happy nonetheless.

The strongest proposition of the project was that a huge sum of money could be donated at once, with no documentation of its origin. It was a gamble, but the following months showed that it was a successful one. Ottoberg Corp. was in charge of keeping records of the flow of money and display them publicly at the end of every month. But huge sums attract huge problems – huge scams. Shaan was charged of laundering this money. He was charged of cheating people's hope and admiration towards a better future. As this news covered the media all over, a tiny article read about an employee of Ottoberg who was robbed and later committed suicide under mysterious circumstances – it was Mallick.

Mallick had all the documents in support of Shaan; but now he was gone. Our entire world crumbled into shards in a few days. Help came from nowhere. Love came from nowhere.

One evening as Jaya and Rakhi were returning from the central jail after visiting Shaan, their car was stopped by an angry mob.

"Wife of a traitor!" screamed someone. "She too must hold a position in this" screamed someone else. Shouts and slogans turned to cacophony but a voice sharp enough to be heard cried "Kill them all!"

Jaya turned towards the window as a burning Molotov came hurling towards her. The window pane cracked and the car caught fire. She must have tried to escape. She must have tried to push the crowd away. I do not know. "Stop you idiots! There's a child inside. Help!" screamed a man peeking in from a safe distance. "She will grow up to be like her father. Let her die."

The fire grew quickly and encircled the fuel tank. Then in a huge explosion, they were both dead, along with several others nearby. The judgement of the world was a harsh one.

Probing into the death of Mallick, the police found evidence supporting Shaan's claim. About six months later, he was acquitted from his case. I spent my time around courts, jails and hospitals. There was nothing else for an old man to do.

We moved to Mulai after this ordeal. We have been here for almost a year now. Shaan has found a job at a local store, and I have nothing much to do. There's a nurse to cater me, but we seldom talk. We seldom sit together. We haven't smiled since ages and it is perhaps because we already died eighteen months ago.

Now every day is a drag, every breath a pain yet we keep breathing. Not for ourselves, but for each other; and that is how days pass us by. And I have been thinking about it a lot lately. The broken shards only poke and hurt us. The past year has made me realise that we do not need love. All we need is empathy, and everything else may follow. We need someone to understand and someone waiting to be understood and we live our entire lives searching for one. However, these are subjects not for us to discuss, we are already dead – Shaan and I. And today I lay my body to rest, so that he may do the same tomorrow.