The Blue Voice [ON HOLD]

CHAPTER 7

The council room bore a heavy atmosphere, a tableau of authority and inquiry, as Ravindra found himself ensconced in an imposing setting. The mahogany table, polished to a reflective sheen, stretched across the room like an unyielding barrier.

High-backed leather chairs, arranged with military precision, cradled the occupants who held the scales of judgment. The walls, adorned with austere portraits of the college's illustrious alumni, whispered stories of both triumph and tribulation.

Three stern-faced CBI officials, their countenances etched with the weight of relentless investigation, flanked the roundtable like guardians of an unyielding truth. Dressed in the somber attire befitting their roles, their pens poised over notepads, they projected an aura of unassailable authority.

On either side of this formidable trio, the lawyers, adorned in tailored suits that mirrored the seriousness of the occasion, exuded an air of legal acumen. The collective gravity of their presence loomed like an intangible force.

At the periphery of the room, the dean of academics sat with a stoic countenance, his eyes veiled behind glasses that refracted the ambient light. Members of the disciplinary committee, their expressions a blend of concern and vigilance, completed the assembly.

Each gaze, converging upon Ravindra, bore the weight of expectation and scrutiny, transforming the council room into a crucible where every utterance and gesture held profound consequences.

CBI Officer Deshmukh, a figure of stern resolve, addressed Ravindra with a measured tone that cut through the air of anticipation.

"Mr. Ravindra, we are here to discuss a crucial aspect of our ongoing investigation. The text you sent to Ms. Ananya the night before her demise has been brought to our attention. Could you please clarify the nature and context of that message?"

The weight of Deshmukh's words settled heavily upon Ravindra, his gaze shifting momentarily to the penetrating eyes of the CBI officer.

"Sir, it was a casual message," he began, his voice betraying a nervous undercurrent. "We were friends, and I just asked her how she was doing. There was nothing unusual about it."

Deshmukh's expression remained unyielding, his eyes probing for nuances that transcended the surface.

"We have reason to believe that the content of this message might be relevant to our investigation. Are you asserting that your communication with Ms. Ananya was entirely innocuous?"

Ravindra, acutely aware of the scrutiny enveloping him, nodded. "Yes, sir. It was a routine exchange, nothing that could be connected to... to what happened."

Deshmukh's gaze hardened as he continued, "Mr. Ravindra, our sources indicate that you asked Ms. Ananya to meet you at the rooftop. Can you explain the purpose of that particular rendezvous?"

A ripple of tension coursed through the room as Ravindra hesitated, his mind navigating the delicate terrain of the truth entangled with the shadows of that fateful night.

Ravindra, disconcerted by the escalating gravity of the situation, stammered, "I didn't send any message like that! I don't know where that information is coming from."

However, before he could further assert his innocence, another figure entered the room - a stern-faced man named Tripathi, who seemed to share an unspoken understanding with Deshmukh.

As Tripathi entered the conversation, a palpable shift occurred. The collective gaze of the officials, lawyers, and committee members transformed into a unified front, each pair of eyes now scrutinising Ravindra with an intensity that felt like the tightening noose of suspicion.