The Rose & Her Thorn

Part 27

"Vikram ji, why did you take the trouble to come down to meet me? You could have called me, and we would have met at your residence," said DGP Sumit Yadav, settling on the couch across Vikram.

Vikram tapped the fingers of his left hand against the armrest as his right hand held the cup of coffee. The intense aroma of the incense sticks burning in front of the portraits of the Goddess Durga took him back to the rituals carried out before his engagement with Shikha.

"Sumit ji, I need blanket immunity and police protection, and in return I'm going to offer crucial information about the workings of the underworld and step aside from my double life," he said.

Sumit's eyes widened, and he appeared lost for words. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and he regarded Vikram's tense form as a pregnant silence enveloped the two men.

Sumit shook his head and placed the cup back on the table. "We cannot afford to allow the rise of another Suryaprakash Rao, Vikram ji. I'm sure you realize this decision of yours would skew the power dynamics across the state."

Vikram sipped the piping hot beverage to ease the lump at his throat. "We already skewed them, Sumit ji. I have relieved my men of their duties and ranks. I am offering to bring the balance back by eliminating the other leaders of the underworld."

Sumit contemplated his decision as he scanned Vikram's perturbed face. Vikram Singhal carried the mask of nonchalance and donned the facade of cold indifference. It was unheard of for him to display hints of worry or vulnerability.

But Sumit Yadav knew better. He knew the mask, and the facade were just the means to hide his insecurities and vulnerabilities. One of them had pushed him to take the reins of the underworld and it was not unlikely, Sumit believed, that it was another of those soft spots that compelled him to let go of those reins.

Sumit nodded in affirmation. "So be it, Vikram ji. I don't think I change this decision of yours, anyway."

Sumit saw the ghost of a smile twitch at Vikram's lips. "I hope you won't face a lot of resistance to do this, Sumit ji. Thank you!"

"There's no need to thank me, Vikram ji. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. You saved my dear daughter from the clutches of those monsters working for Suryaprakash, and many others like her. I am indebted to you!" said Sumit.

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes as he reminisced about the dark times, riddled with fear and anticipation of the worst. Fearful female folk who went missing would never return home and the boys who had joined the ranks of Suryaprakash would forget mercy, morals, and the meaning of life.

Dread, despair and death danced to the tunes of devastation, along with the wails and cries of the populace. Lesser of the two evils, or so they had thought when Vikram Singhal ascended to power and dethroned the demoniac dictator.

But Vikram knew better. He had projected his neuroses onto the people when he designed the restrictions for the people yearning for freedom. That independence had been long overdue, and Shikha had given him the reason to listen to the timid voice of conscience at the back of his head.

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Shikha pressed 'delete the account' for the umpteenth time that day, with tears overflowing her eyes. Her matted eyebrows and the constant film of tears in her eyes blurred her vision. She moved to the settings of her phone and opted for factory reset.

As the green bar grew in length, the wall holding off her sobs weakened. Her throat gurgled and her chest rumbled with the sobs clamoring to escape her quivering lips. The display went off, and the void in her chest intensified. The mobile was Sunaina's gift for her twentieth birthday. She had to leave it behind. Like Choco. Like Rohan. Anything and everything she ever loved.