Powder And Corruption (Book 1)

#1

It was a cold night and the hour needle of the wall clock at the airport waiting area had ticked to ten. The waiting area was less crowded among whom there was a lady who was in her late twenties. Ira Gupta had her phone in her hand and her trolley bag was besides her chair.

A few moments later a lady announced on the mic about the cancellation of the flight on which Ira was about to board. She looked at the screen to confirm the flight status which displayed ' CANCELLED ' after the name of her flight.

She walked out of the premises and dialled her husband. She tried it twice but he didn't respond. A cab arrived to her. She sat inside the cab with her bag.
As the cab left the airport she tried to call her husband over the phone.

The cab arrived at her house. It was a single storey with a 3BHK model. She paid the driver cash and stepped out of the cab with her bag. The cab left and she stepped towards the door. She observed the door was already opened. She went inside and called her husband with his name, Atharva.

She went inside the bedroom where she was staggered to see her husband who was sitting on chair by the bed with his hands being tied with rope and his head was bowed down as there were injuries on his face.

She called his name, " Atharva! "

Atharva slightly turned up his head and looked at her.

He told him in a low voice, " Ira. Leave me alone. I don't want to involve you into this. "

" Atharva? "

" Please. Ira. Leave now. You have to live without me to restart a new life. "

She came to him and tried to untie the rope. She heard a gun cocking sound and turned around where there was a man standing behind her with a gun in his hand. She stood up. The gun man shook his head.

The gun man said, " Walk out of the house. "

She walked ahead while being followed by the gun man. She went out of the house.

He said, " Stay here. "

The gunman latched the door from inside and went inside the bedroom. Ira breathe heavily while she saw a brown sedan which was parked outside her house. The driver of the car was smoking cigarette. She couldn't see the face of the driver as it was too dark in the night.

She suddenly heard two gunshots from her bedroom implying the gunman had killed her husband. She cried and began to beat up the door. She took a deep breath and picked up a rod which was kept by the door.

She held the rod tightly and waited for the gunman to come. She looked through the window that the gunman walking out of the bedroom and she came near to the door. As the door got opened by the gunman, she was about to hit him with the rod but an explosion occurred in the house which killed Atharva and the gunman.

Ira was lying half dead on the ground with her half burnt face. She coughed and heard the acceleration sound of the car. She struggled to stood up on her legs and looked at the brown sedan which had left the explosion site.

3 MONTHS LATER:

It was late night when Dev entered inside a photo studio with a flash drive in his hand. Dev was in his early forties and was a private matrimonial detective.

The owner of the studio removed the camera from the stand and turned off the strobe lights of the studio. He kept the camera on a couch and looked at Dev.
He walked towards him.

He said, " Sorry sir. We are about to close? "

Dev took out a bundle of cash and kept them on the table. The owner looked at the bundle after which Dev showed him the flash drive.

Dev said, " I want hard copies of the photographs which are inside the drive. "

The owner nodded his head.

Next morning, Pranav Jha wore his tie and blazer for his office. Pranav was in his early forties and used to live in a 3BHK flat at ninth floor of a twenty storey building with his wife and his twelve years old son. His wife Pranjal entered his room. He zipped his office bag and she gave him a wrist watch.

He asked, " I have worn already. "

She said, " This belongs to Ansh (their son). "

" Hadn't he went yesterday for getting it repaired? Where is he? "

" He is sleeping. "

He exclaimed, " It's nine at morning. "

" He was awake till three at morning. "

" What for? Instagram? "

" He doesn't use Instagram? "

" You always try to defend him. The smartphone has ruined the kids nowadays. "

Pranjal chuckled as he left the flat. He went to the elevator.

The elevator faced the front opening of the building as the another building on its front could be seen directly from the elevator. Pranav pressed the ground floor button. The elevator door got shut and moved downwards.

It stopped at the fifth floor. As the door of the elevator got opened, another man entered inside. The elevator door was about to shut again but Pranav was shot on his dead which caused him immediate death.

A middle aged economics professor was teaching a class of around fifty students the subject in a college. While he was teaching, a girl who was in her early twenties was having a nap with her face being covered by a book. The college bell rang which made her to wake up. She was Diya Mehta who was in her final year of the graduation.

The professor said, " This is it for now. We will start the ' Modern effects of Inflation ' tomorrow. "

The professor left the class leaving the students who began to have an indistinct chatter. A number of bicycles were parked in the parking stand. Diya took her bicycle out of the stand and rode away from the college.