Jewel-less Crown: Saga of Life, BS Murthy [cat reading book .txt] 📗
- Author: BS Murthy
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Jewel-less Crown - Saga of life
BS Murthy
ISBN 81-901911-6-0
copyright © 2004 BS Murthy
This improved E-book edition is of 2013
Cover design by GDC creative advertising (p) ltd., Hyderabad –500 080
with the watercolor painting of Mr. Niranajn
F-9, Nandini Mansion,
1-10-234, Ashok Nagar,
Hyderabad – 500 020
Other books by BS Murthy
Benign Flame: Saga of Love
Crossing the Mirage- Passing through youth
Glaring Shadow - A stream of consciousness novel
Prey on the Prowl - A Crime Novel
Stories Varied – A Book of Short Stories
Onto the stage - Slighted Souls and other stage and radio plays
Puppets of Faith: Theory of Communal Strife (Non-fiction)
Bhagvad-Gita: Treatise of self – help (A translation in verse)
Sundara Kãnda - Hanuman’s Odyssey (A translation in verse)
Book One: Artha ‘n Kama
Chapter1: Party Gone Sour
Chapter2: Trauma at Tihar
Chapter 3: Mind of the Maligned
Chapter 4: Twist at Tis-Hazari
Chapter 5: Trial in Camera
Chapter 6: Dilemma of Qualms
Chapter 7: Moment of Reckoning
Chapter 8: End within end
Chapter 9: Vestiges of Prestige
Chapter 10: High on Rebound
Chapter 11: Bellows of Delhi
Chapter 12: Dicing with Life
Chapter 13: Spidering Spadework
Chapter 14: Loss to Order
Chapter 15: Daring the Fate
Chapter 16: Victims of Deceit
Chapter 17: Baring the Soul
Chapter 18: Garland of Guilt
Book Two : Dharma ‘n Moksha
Episode 1: Bliss of Being
Episode 2: Collage of Crime
Episode 3: Domain of the Devil
Episode 4: Renaissance of Life
Episode 5: Sprouts of Love
Episode 6: Despair of Hope
Episode 7: Turn at the Bend
Episode 8: Amity of Empathy
Episode 9: A Day to Remember
Episode 10: Spirituality of Materialism
Episode 11: Sense of Reincarnation
Epilogue
Dedicated to
VV Rao my soul mate, PN Murty the friendly cousin ‘n KB Bhaskar,
my computer guru, for their support of my literary cause.
Book One : Artha ‘n Kama
Chapter 1
Party Gone Sour
That New Year's Eve, all the nouveau riche of New Delhi seemed to have gathered at the Misty Nest in their ubiquitous wear. While women wore designer dresses, men turned up in safari suits. Hosting them at their grand dwelling in the Defense Colony were the Gautams, Prabhu and Sneha. By the time the last guest was hugged in welcome, Gautam’s silk kurta and Sneha’s mink coat were truly crumpled. Augmenting the warmth of their bonhomie was the Glenfiddich with soda. In time, while the lure of the Scotch drove many into the lap of Bacchus, the allure of Venus enticed others to ogle at the desirable. But, above all, it was Gautam’s good-humored banter and Sneha’s sensuous charm that lent aura to that midnight rendezvous.
When the New Year was an hour away in its coming, what with the inebriated becoming tardy in their tangos, the going got really bawdy. As Sneha too got into the act, there was a virtual riot for a round with her. When someone went overboard to bottom pinch her, she paid back with a belly punch that regaled the gathering.
As the gigantic clock was all set to halve the night, the antique chandeliers were put off. When the radium hands went straight up on the dial, the ribaldry reached a new low on the floor. At that, as the Gautams goaded all to raise their hands to fold out the year on hand, the boozers struggled to get on to their feet to welcome the year in the offing. But, for its part, the antique piece welcomed the incoming year with the first of its twelve chimes that reverberated in that sprawling banquet hall.
In the prevailing darkness, the euphoria that followed led to a fresh round of bear-hugs amongst the sexes before the stewards switched on the chandeliers as though to let those bear witness to the goings on. As if that translucence showed the revelers the reality of life, sanity was restored in that exuberant setting, and soon the pangs of hunger made the gathering scamper for the buffet of varied cuisines, brought from the capital’s five-star restaurants.
When the hosts went up to the table to pick up their plates, a steward alerted Gautam to an urgent telephone call. Soon, seeing her man turn all pale, Sneha made her way to him in apprehension. When Gautam made her privy to their unfolding tragedy in an undertone, Sneha nearly swooned into his arms. The news of Suresh Prabhu, the heir to their business empire, hauled up in the lock-up was enough to unnerve her. That he was booked for rape and murder as well ravaged her soul no end. In her state of shock, she was unable to comprehend what Gautam mumbled into her ear to lift up her spirits.
Having realized that they were attracting undue attention, Gautam led his wife into the anteroom, leaving the gathering with a free rein on the rumor mill. The breaking news, set in motion by someone who had eavesdropped on the hosts’ conversation, gained circulation with understandable exaggeration. And there followed an intense debate about the eventual outcome of the current indictment that led to the Gautams’ predicament. The indignant gathering, in one tone, roundly censured the hosts for the fall of their only offspring. For once, everyone seemed to agree that loose morals would only bring ruin in the end, even for the rich and famous. Of course, even the mighty of the world are bound to fail on the false path, so emerged the consensus. Even those who professed closeness to the Gautams maintained that they knew all along that things would come to this pass with Suresh, sooner than later.
Such are the ways of the world that the lows of life would turn the admirers into critics, and what is worse; make the naive speak as the know-all.
Closeting with Sneha, Gautam assured her that he would pull out all the stops to free Suresh in no time. But Sneha was terrified that the magnitude of the indictment might be beyond the endurance of their son. In spite of her awareness of their political clout and the loopholes of law, her sixth sense gave a dissenting note, making her apprehensive about the possibility of her son coming clean out of this messy case. But as hope coupled with her confidence in her go-getter man calmed her nerves a little, Gautam led her back into the banquet hall.
When the besieged couple resurfaced, what with everyone feigning camaraderie and volunteering help, hypocrisy seemed to rule the roost on the human stage. As if to show up the fallacy of human sympathy, appeared malice to induce innuendoes about the perceived closeness of Sneha with the powers that be.
'Why, in this topsy-turvy,’ said a naughty one, ‘her leeway is bound to come in handy, won’t it?’
Not to be left out, curiosity too entered the arena to tie the crowd to the unfolding drama. When the hosts tried to make light of the incident as but a storm in the teacup, the guests maintained that they would not desert the ship in the storm. With his appeals for a premature adieu falling on deaf ears, Gautam left for South Extension with an entrapped feeling. Thereafter, preyed upon by her guests, Sneha remained a prisoner in her own palace.
When Gautam in a dilemma reached the South Extension police station, as Pramod Rawal, the Station House Officer (SHO), received him reverentially, he was a little relieved. But as the SHO made him privy to the incriminating evidence gathered against his son, Gautam was in a spot all again.
That very night at ten, one Saurav Swaroop came to the police station to lodge a ‘missing person’ complaint. A worried Swaroop told an impatient Rawal that his daughter Shanti hadn’t returned home yet though it was her wont not to stay out after seven. Worried over her life and limb, said Swaroop, he had contacted all those he should including his family friend Sohan Singh, the Circle Inspector (CI). At that, Rawal became alert and almost got into a saluting posture. The CI, Swaroop claimed, had advised him to take the matter to Rawal, the SHO on duty.
But, knowing the proclivities of his flock only too well, Singh left nothing to chance, and thus mobilized a force to search for Shanti. It was past ten, when a patrol party intercepted a speeding Mercedes at Mehrauli. As the teen at the wheel betrayed his unease, the Police saw the need for a thorough search of the limousine. And when they found the body of a woman in the back seat they were truly aghast. But, as the distraught lad revealed his identity, the cops were really dumbfounded. Having led the accused to the police station, they revealed the identity of the arrested to Rawal. Without any coercion, Suresh revealed that he had kidnapped the girl with the idea of raping her. While pleading that he had no intention to harm her, he confessed to having killed her under extreme provocation.
As feared by Rawal, the victim turned out to be Shanti Swaroop. And this unwelcome development irked him for he feared that the vengeful Singh might brutalize the brat, leaving him to fend for himself with a lock-up death. And the rest at the police station felt that in spite of his impeccable pedigree, Suresh was in for an unimaginable trouble.
An uncanny manipulator of the system that he was, Rawal thought it fit to inform Gautam before all else. After all, wouldn’t Gautam involve the top brass to deter the CI from laying his hand on the lad? Besides, there is much to gain by helping the rich, isn’t it? It was, thus, that Gautam’s arrival lightened the cop’s burden while raising his hopes as well. But his countenance to Gautam’s suggestive glances seemed to convey that the accused might not be able to get away for once. Given his closeness to the Swaroops, after all, the CI can be expected to be averse to hushing up the murder case. Besides, to splash the scandal in the making, the press-wallahs had already rushed back to ‘Stop Press’.
“Saab, I've done my best in this ticklish case,” said Pramod Rawal. “And the rest is in the CI’s hands.”
“Thank you Rawalji,” said Gautam enticingly, “but don't I know how the system works. Why, you are the king-pin here, aren’t you? I know you realize that I will put my wealth on line for my son’s release.”
“Saab, as I told you, Singhsaab has taken a personal interest in this case,” said Rawal feeling sad that he couldn’t avail of the chance of his lifetime. “If only it were in my hands, I would've surely given it a different twist.”
“But still… ”
“Saab, you better pull the strings at the top to see that your boy is not troubled by any,” said Rawal trying to ingratiate himself to Gautam. “Well, I'll call up the CI saab only after you fix up things. And you too can speak to him a little later. After all, courtesy wouldn’t spoil, will it? Be assured, I'll not let a fly come near your boy. Why, I'll treat him as my own son.”
“Thank you, Rawalji,” said Gautam as he
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