BURY

“Lets Bury him !!”

He is a Catholic and he does not have family.

The neighbours spoke amongst themselves. The decision was made.

The two goons listened to this in glee.

Their boss would be pleased.

                         -----////-----

Hari Chaurasia was a corrupt  business man. 

Right hand and main advisor of the Chief Minister he himself was a power broker.  

He realised it is more profitable to be a prime chair maker than actually sit  on the hot seat. He never joined a political party or stood for elections. He played his game from outside mainstream politics. His dealings and his years of politicking had seen him progress and brought him so far.

On the facade he had a squeaky clean  image but deep within he knew that he had spent crores of rupees to paint this picture and maintain it. He felt it was an investment with long term gains. 

 

After the recent elections he had managed to get Nana Shivraj Kant the Chief Ministership.

It had costed Shivraj crores of rupees.

For Chaurasia it was like winning the lottery.

A thorn in their game play was Brando.

A diligent reporter in the local newspaper he considered himself  an honest citizen first. Originally from Goa he had just migrated to Bombay. Unknown to others he had come to Bombay after spending a few years of self seeking in the far away Tibetan monasteries.

Dark hued he was a clean shaven plump balding middle aged man. A bachelor, he had dedicated his life in seeking out truth.

He was a loner and had very few friends Most were acquaintances.

He was employed in the local newspaper and in the six months that he was there he had done many investigative articles on the corrupt private businessmen of the state. 

In the course of his investigations he realised that buried below the corruption and irregularities the name of Hari Chaurasia was surfacing.

Managing to convince Seth Goenka his newspaper owner who full supporting gave him backing he was on the job of gathering evidence to build up a case. 

Goenkas request was that he should conduct the investigations secretly and not keep him also in the loop.

This would prevent any information leaks.

   

Goenka had also promised to convince a judge to give him a fair private hearing in case he could get together the evidence.

Brando was enthralled. He worked relentlessly in secrecy joining the dots and accumulating evidence. He started storing the paper work in a bank deposit locker for safe keeping. He had about 90% connections to implicate Chaurasia.

A few loose ends would confirm Chaurasia’s connection with the Chief Minister.

                            -----////-----

 It was Christmas eve. Hari Chaurasia was fuming. He had got news that  Goenka’s newspaper was digging out dirt about his private dealings. 

Goenka had to be purchased out or convinced to drop the investigation.    

Being honest the former would be difficult but the latter could be achieved.

Luring Goenka that he had a major plan for developing a site for homeless children he called him over to share his plans.

As it was just in the pipelines he asked him to keep it secret.

He requested a one to one urgent meeting so that he could take advice from him.  It had to be tonight in his farmhouse.  He should drive alone and be there at 9 pm

Goenka agreed. However, sensing something adrift he had sent a message to Brando and shared this information.

Brando was a daredevil.

Slipping through the gates he managed to gain entrance into Chaurasia’s  Madh island farmhouse and hide before the scheduled meeting time.

It was deserted.

Loaded with a camera and mini tape recorder he waited patiently in the dark shadows of the bungalow.

As the grandfather's clock struck 9 he heard the crunching of wheels on the gravel pathway. The headlights were now switched off. The moon peeped through the light clouds to flash down its shimmer.

From the shadows, he saw Chaurasia stagger out of his car from the driving seat. He had come here alone. His walk confirmed he was already drunk.

He walked to the main door in stagger and opened the lock. He switched on the old fashioned light so that the room was flooded with a  yellowish glow.

There was an instant rush as a swarm of fireflies flitted to the source of light.

Light Clinks could be heard as these insects struck on the glass bulbs.

As he went in Brando slipped quietly and hid himself behind the thick drapes.

It was a cosy room with a rattan table, four matching chairs and a decently stocked bar.

In a few minutes, another car drove in with Goenka at the wheels.

Chaurasia walked out and greeted him on the porch. Both came in sharing pleasantries. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses Chaurasia started the conversation as he sat on the chair and gestured for his guest to sit down.

Behind the curtains Brando had switched on the tape recorder. 

Chaurasia got straight to the point and demanded that Goenka stop witch-hunting him. He confronted him about the investigations. The conversation got heated and as both stood on their grounds. Noticing Goenkas ’don’t care’ attitude Chaurasia flew in a fit of rage.

Brando from the clink between the curtains clicked still photographs.

What happened next was unexpected.

The alcohol in Chaurasia brought out the devil. He came to his true self. Flashing out a Rampuri knife he fatally stabbed Goenka. 

Brando was busy clicking on his camera when this happened.

The limp body of Goenka fell onto the floor.

Brando shrieked. 

Hearing this Chaurasia picked up a rifle hanging on the wall closest to him and came chasing towards the curtain from where the sound had come.

Brandon, tears welling in his eyes, felt helpless. He knew his master had not survived. He would have to escape with the proof. Both the recording and camera with hard evidence were with him. 

He jumped out of the window and ran as he heard shots bring fired on him. 

As he ran Chaurasia recognised him from his hazy outline. His baldness and plump stature gave him away.

Brando could not go to the police. He knew they were hand in glove.

He had to convince the Judge.

He hid all night and managed to develop the photos. He stealthily went to the bank the next morning. 

He deposited the evidence in the bank locker. 

He now lay low.

                           -----////-----

Goenkas murder cover-up was managed. 

A lorry driver was arrested near Khandala ghat. It seemed that he had banged into an oncoming car in an accident on the ghats. He managed to remember the car number The car had tumbled down the ghats. The car had burst into flames. 

The car was identified as Goenka’s car.

Unrecognisable charred body parts were recovered. 

Everyone was sad that Goenka had passed away.

Chaurasia’s goons were on the lookout for Brando. They were instructed to pick him up alive and bring him to the farmhouse.

Two days later Brando was found hiding in a friends house. 

It was a crowded locality.

As they got the information four of them approached him. They could see the fear in his eyes.

One had a handkerchief which he generously sprinkled with chloroform from a small glass bottle.

As the empty bottle was thrown on the floor and sound of the glass bottle shattering on the floor was heard they surrounded him and dabbed his nose and mouth covering it with the rag. Brandon slumped and dropped to the ground. He was limp. 

They started checking his pulse. There was none. They checked his breath. He was not breathing. 

They had killed Brando. They felt he must have got a heart attack when they accosted him.

A neighbour walked in and raised the alarm. He started screaming and the other neighbours came rushing into the house.

Two goons ran out as fast as they could get away.

The other two ran away but came back and mingled with the crowd quietly watching as onlookers.

A neighbour doctor examined Brando. No pulse. He was also breathless and lifeless.

Doctor pronounced him dead noticing the time of his decision. 

Reason of death -- Heart Attack.

It must have been a robbery gone bad.

As Brando did not have kith or kin it was decided to bury him as soon as they could. 

The funeral directors organised for the body to be dressed. He was suited and booted. Pieces of cotton stuck out from his nostrils. The smell of eau de cologne was strong in the air. Hands crossed holding a rosary and a cross, Brando’s dead body was transported in a basic silk-lined coffin to the local cemetery to be buried. 

A shallow grave was dug. About 10 people had gathered around the coffin and the grave.

The priest sang the hymns, said the prayers and blessed the body by gesticulating the sign of the cross in the air and splashing holy water from the sprinkler.

The coffin lid was closed and the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave.

Murmurs of ”we, therefore, commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life” was heard as the onlookers threw in the soil over the buried coffin.

The ritual was complete.

From a distance, a couple of Chaurasia’s goons witnessed this burial.

They rushed back with the good news to their boss. 

He was happy. 

Along with Brando, all evidence was buried. 

He was scot-free.

The next morning's post brought a registered letter to Judge Kanthawala’s residence. On personally signing for it he carefully opened the thick brown envelope. Along with documents it also had a tape cassette and some photographs. The clear photos were of the murder of Goenka and the audio recordings on the tape were of the incident in the Madh island bungalow.

Documents were Brandos investigative paperwork to join the dots.

There was a key for a local bank locker with details of how to access it. 

A note to state that additional documented proof, original negatives and extra copies of the photo and recordings could be found in the locker was signed by -- Brando.

A smile spread across the Judges face.

The criminals would have to face the long arm of the law. 

A government was going to fall.

                       -----////-----

Later that evening as a dozen sirens were heard blaring in various parts of the city there was an eerie silence over a disturbed shallow grave.

The hope of the RESURRECTION were the keywords of yesterday's sermon

The moonbeam gleamed down on a shadowed outline as it emerged from the recently dug grave.

Monk Brando was digging himself out. 

In a sombre way he had resurrected.

Piling back the soil in the grave he moved on.

Unknown to others he had mastered a few body controls during his stint in the Tibetan monastries. 

It was easy for him to control his heartbeat, pulse, breath for hours and act dead. He had hoodwinked his kidnappers, doctors and funeral directors. 

He would be travelling incognito back there.

There was lots more to learn.