What Happened in Tashkent

Crying, as she sat in the footsteps of the committee hall, she never wanted this. That damn letter, why did she even take it? It was all her fault. She should’ve ripped the letter in the first place. 

---

The first rays of sun settled on the crippled envelope pinched between Kiara’s fingers. She didn’t know where it came from, all there was a scribbled address of hers. 

Kiara Mehta, 

                    The death of India’s second prime minister, Shree Lal Bahadur Shastri was not an accident. It was a planned murder. Be the one who will prove it in front of the world. There is no backing off. Meet at the Nehru Street sharp one pm. Eighteen lakh rupees as a reward for the job. Burn the letter as soon as you read this. We will be watching you.

-Unknown

Claws of fear clutched her heart. Was there someone on the window? Her mind swirled into loops of confusion and fear. What was happening? 

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her shoulders down against the soft mattress and stared at the above leak. 

‘A prank is all it is.’ But deep inside, she felt the truth beneath the waves. She knew it wasn’t mischief but she had to believe it, at least the curtains of the lie.

“What is it, child? Is your father home?” Asked a small voice from the end.

“Nothing ma. Yes, dad is just taking a bath.” Kiara didn’t know how long she would be able to pull the act but she had to. She looked towards the shivering pale body lying on the thin mattress, tinged with the colour of a lemon. How could she push this fragile body into the mouths of a painful truth? It would do nothing but shatter her feeble heart.

She burnt the letter. 

-----

She wiped the warm liquid off her face and pressed her runny nose. The trail of thoughts that had once been extinguished was reborned. Faded pictures of her mother flashed in front of her eyes. How she used to dance around the whole household while her dad would sing in his opera voice accompanied by Kiara on his shoulders. She still missed the silly laugh of her father and cursed the day she saw his coffin. The harsh times somehow ignited the lost spark in her and she stood up. She couldn’t give up now. The letter stated true, she will be the one who will prove it in front of the world. 

Off she went. 

---

Kiara stood muddled in the middle of the crowded Nehru street, like a new teddy to the collection of a 5 year old. Dark clouds of doubt hovered above her. 

‘Ouch’ she yelled suddenly as a sudden push burned against her shoulder. Past her went a man completely dressed in black and combat boots. 

She rubbed her shoulder back to consciousness but before she could make her way back, her eyes fell on a black file lying on the floor. 

Maybe the man dropped it 

“Uh, sir..” Kiara said, looking up but the man had already dissolved. She opened the file carefully. Inside it was a letter. 

Kiara Mehta, 

                   Very well. Attached are some important confidential information about Shree Lal Bahadur Shastri and his visit to Tashkent. Be there at the city committee hall, sharp 2 pm, next friday. Half amount attached. Half after work. Be prepared. Best of luck.

-Unknown

Kiara sighed and flipped through the pages. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much, just some basic information and lifestyle of Shastri ji listed with a number of links and….and a pen drive. Kiara pressed the cold pen drive in between her palm and rushed towards her home. 

---

The coldness of the air made its way to a bitter taste in her mouth. She made her way to his house. The street, all she might forget but this street would always remind her of one thing, her father. It was rather a stormy night, Kiara had her fingers intertwined with her father as they walked, chatting and singing. Seldom rumbles and distant lightning would raise the hair on her hand but she knew she was safe. She had her father with her. 

‘Aw! A kitty’ she had said and walked towards the purring cat sitting beneath a u-shaped wooden stone bedewed with raindrops. She had left her father’s fingers and rushed towards the kitten, the thing she still regrets. It wasn’t her fault but she decided to take the blame and put the weight of guilt on her shoulders. All she could remember was everything going dark and then waking up in a hospital bed just to realise her life had been ruined. That night, her father got shot by a lightning bolt and never woke up followed by her mother going insane. How old was she to meet such a fate? Just fifteen. Was this how the fair world of God runs? She thus blindly followed the steps life gave her and stood at the verge of being a journalist. And suddenly this anonymous person showed her a silver lining. Maybe she could do something with her life. Make it worth it. 

It’s time to create her own path. 

---

She leaned against the white wall, fidgeting her fingers. Five candidates of one of the most popular political parties sat in front of her with their leader in the centre. 

“You may start,” said the leader. 

“Yes, thank you” She said and turned on the projector. On the white wall, flashed some pictures of Shastri Ji. “As you may know, our prime minister’s unfortunate death occured when he had been in Tashkent to sign an agreement on 10 January 1966. The Tashkent government mentioned that Shastri Ji died due to cardiac arrest on 11 January 1966, but do you really think so? Here” Kiara said and changed the slide, presenting a picture of Shastri Ji lying dead. She could see the surprised faces of the committee members, curious about how she found it but she let that pass. 

“Here if you could see” She continued laser beaming the neck region of Shastri Ji, “there are blue-green marks all over his neck as if he has been choked to death.” 

“But post mortem reports clearly state that there is no evidence Shastri ji had been choked.” Said a lady on the table. She had a boycut and was wearing a yellow designed saree. 

“Coming to that point ma’am, maybe the oxygen supply had been cut off from that room, resulting in an indirect way of choking, or maybe the room had been filled with another gas like carbon monoxide or something.” Kiara replied feeling a bit confident then. 

“Ms Mehta, I hope you know we don’t work here with ‘maybes’. We need solid proof. If you have any, present it, otherwise please don’t waste our time.” A man said from the right corner. 

“And moreover as I had mentioned before, the post mortem report does not consist of any facts confirming the case of choking. If the room had been filled with carbon monoxide or the oxygen had been cut off, there would have been samples of it in the blood.” added the lady with a boycut.”

“Because the report had been prepared by the people of Tashkent! What do you expect? They will accept their mistake?” Kiara replied back furiously.

“The body was checked by a lot of doctors all over the world!” the lady yelled back. 

Realising the increasing tension between the four walls, the leader stood up and everyone grew silent. He calmly turned towards Kiara and said “Well child, we have given you your chance. It’s time for you to go back home. Thank you.” He turned towards the door and walked out followed by the other members. 

Thick liquid blurred Kiara’s eyes. She glanced at her presentation. How hard she had prepared for this day, staying awake all night and just sitting in front of her laptop. It was all her fault, she should’ve never followed the letter. She yelled in frustration and ran down to the stairs, letting the agony flow outside. 

---

Her cold finger pressed against the doorbell and out came the man. 

“Ms Mehta? What are you doing here?” the leader said, confused.

“You were the one, weren't you?” Kiara yelled back at him.

“What are you talking about?” He said calmly.

“Oh please, drop the act. You’re the one who sent me the letters. You're the one who offered me the money!”

The leader just smiled. “I am impressed.” 

“Huh, so it was you! Why!” Kiara again bursted into tears “Why! Why do you have to make me feel like a failure?” 

The leader placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’re not a failure. Don’t ever say that. I am just a medium to surface the inner talent of yours. I could see the passion in you. The way you presented everything in the committee, it was really good but can be better. Next time, remember to consider the possible questions. Now goodbye, the money waits on your doorstep.” he said and shut the door. 

“But….why?” the words just hung unanswered. 

---

5 months later. 

“Kiara!” A woman yelled, running towards the dark haired girl. 

“Mom!” she jumped excitedly. “I cannot believe it!” Kiara said, embracing each other in their arms. Uncontrolled tears glittered on both the faces. How long Kiara had been dying for this hug. 

“I heard about what you did Kiara, and I am so so proud of you! I am glad you didn’t give up, even after the jeering of so many people.” her mother said and showered her with another wave of kisses. 

“I wouldn’t have given up ma. Even if it was a million to one.”