The Last Laugh

The snakes had not been fed for the last two days. Tonight, Suresh had put the rat catcher at three different places, he expected to catch three rats which will be enough for his snakes for the next few days. The reflecting glass of the lantern perched on the far wall was coated with thick soot. The faint light emitted from the kerosene burning wick provided just enough light for Suresh to see the contours of his ramshackle cottage. He had lived in this cottage for the last forty years. Lying on his misnomer bed made of old straw, he could easily hear the rumblings of the flowing water in Yamuna River. The river was just a stone's throw from his cottage.

Tonight, Suresh found it hard to sleep. The events of the day were difficult to forget. It was around noon that he had a few visitors who had used abusive language against him and threatened that if he did not vacate this cottage within the next three days, it will be treated as a disobedience to 'bhai' and the repercussions may be difficult. Suresh knew for sure that the tone of the threat was grave. Since the last several months 'bhai's' men had purchased or usurped all the land around his cottage. It was in the air that 'bhai' wanted to build a riverside resort on the banks of the scenic Yamuna riverfront. For several months Suresh had withstood his ground and had even refused money from 'bhai's' henchmen. As Suresh lay wide awake on that night waiting to hear the clicking sound of the mouse trap, he glanced at his wife and son lying on makeshift straw beds deep in sleep.

While it was almost pitch dark in Suresh's cottage, just a kilometer away, the night had just unfolded in 'bhai's' mansion. The entrance of the sprawling mansion was dotted with top end cars and SUVs. Most vehicles sported the insignia of different political parties. Inside the mansion, the party was in full swing. On the center table 'bhai' was in deep conversation with some of his close confidantes. There were different groups of people all engrossed in loud banter which covered an assortment of topics ranging from politics to Indian cricket team. The importance of each person was advertised by the number of security personnel standing beside him.

Suresh considered this a lucky omen that he could capture three rats soon in each of his rat catcher devices. Silently he went to the far end of his cottage and removed the flimsy cloth which till now was shielding the bamboo-stick circular flat cages wherein his snakes were housed. Opening each cage a few inches, he put one rat each in all the three cages. He made a mental note that within a few days he was required to extract the venom. For the last twenty years Suresh had made a living by selling snake venom to agents who scouted for this deadly poison. Some of the agents had fleetingly told him that snake venom found use in medicines for treatment of paralysis and muscle pain. Suresh found this explanation weird but fancied no reason to disbelief till the time he got paid in cash.

The party in 'bhai's' mansion was in its last leg. The crowd had thinned. There were only a couple of guests who had 'bhai's' ears. It was in between this secret conversation that 'bhai' asked someone to look for Prabhas, his son. Prabhas had a different coterie, his group had selected a far end of the lawn slightly removed from his father's line of sight. On a cue from a silent messenger, Prabhas went to 'bhai's' table. The conversation revolved around the resistance of the snake charmer to move out of the cottage. 'Bhai' was livid at the incompetence of his henchmen. In a veiled and encouraging language, 'bhai' asked Prabhas to get the job done. This was perhaps, as 'bhai' thought, the first real assignment for Prabhas.

It had drizzled the whole day. Already depressed from the events of a couple of days back, Suresh had remained in his cottage doing nothing. He was so attached to his cottage that he didn't want to leave it. Pappu, his son, gave him company. It was in the afternoon that Suresh opened his snakes. His watchful eyes silently allowed Pappu to fiddle with the reptiles. As evening drifted into darkness, his wife offered him fish curry and rice. The family partook the meal with scant conversation. Night descended early while it rained outside. The lantern again started emitting its faint glow.

Suresh lost count of time while he had remained awake thinking about 'bhai's' threat. As his thoughts meandered to various options, he dozed off. The knock on the door was menacingly ugly. As Suresh struggled to find his senses from deep slumber, the old wooden door of the cottage fell down. In the dim light of the soot coated lantern, Suresh caught sight of the silhouette of three men. He could recognize only Prabhas among the three intruders. In the commotion, Suresh opened his mouth to yell but the bullet pierced his neck before his lungs could push the air through his larynx. Suresh fell down on Pappu who was lying just beside him. The second bullet found its target on the chest of Suresh's wife. An eerie silence followed the two gunshots. Just fifty meters away the serene Yamuna continued its last journey in the joyous anticipation of meeting Ganges. The three men left the cottage without a word. Pappu already soaked with his father's blood was too terrified to wriggle out from the weight of the dead body lying above him.

As morning ended the darkness of the night, curious onlookers flocked the cottage. Someone had put a few pieces of cloth on the bodies of Suresh and his wife. An onlooker offered biscuit and tea to Pappu who was still dazed to weep or talk. While a motley crowd made arrangements for the last rites, nobody found courage to delve into the cause of death. It was just after sunset that a JCB trudged on the marshy land towards the cottage where Suresh used to live.

A camouflaged smile greeted Prabhas when he joined his father during breakfast. 'Bhai' had already been informed about the clinical precision how Prabhas had liquidated the snake charmer and his wife last night. 'Bhai' beckoned his son to sit next to him on the breakfast table. In the next ten minutes he detailed to his son how he wanted to develop the riverfront into an open amphitheater with a rooftop restaurant. As he finished his tea, he put a hand on Prabhas's shoulder and said 'well done'. While the don and the heir apparent were making plans for the vast open land where the lone remaining cottage of Suresh had been razed last evening, Pappu was still too dazed from the events which had unfolded. Tonight, as he found refuge in the old rag picker's house, his sleep was broken several times with the dream in which he saw the cold face of a young man pointing a revolver at his father. The face of that young man had been etched in his mind.

As time passed, 'bhai' gave more and more of his responsibilities to Prabhas. In Prabhas, 'bhai' had the confidence of full dedication and utmost secrecy. On his part, Prabhas picked the nuances of the underworld very fast. A few years had passed and Prabhas had acquired the status of a ruthless underworld don. 'Bhai' had taken a back seat and Prabhas controlled the sprawling empire of crime in his indomitable style. His fear percolated the society and administration alike. After 'bhai's' sudden mysterious death, which as rumours were whispered implicating his son's desire for an early takeover, Prabhas established himself as the sole and undisputed leader of the vast crime syndicate.

While it had taken fifteen years for Prabhas to take the pole position in the crime world of the city, Pappu had witnessed many upheavals in his life. The rag picker who had initially given him refuge after the death of his father and mother, sold him to a begging cartel. To make him suitable for begging, Pappu's leg was ruthlessly broken and then plastered in a way so as to create a permanent disability. In less than six months, Pappu, with a crooked leg, became an ideal beggar who earned not for himself but for his masters who lived-in air-conditioned houses and commuted in swanky cars. As Pappu became an adult he detested his condition. On the streets, while he begged, he saw many strange things. At times he knew more than the local police intelligence unit. After a few years Pappu broke free from the hold of the begging gang and begged for himself soliciting money from the affluent community of the neighborhood. Since nobody knew about his real name, he would target some houses on Tuesdays and some on Thursdays, playing on the human adherence for religious beliefs. His style earned him constant alms. On the streets Pappu recognized Prabhas when his entourage would pass through the street. Pappu would invariably get that dreaded dream when he saw Prabhas. 

Although Prabhas was now the king of the underworld, he still preferred to handle sensitive killings himself. Sometimes even his closest confidantes and gang members were unaware when Prabhas would undertake a solo adventure. This was Prabhas's style of functioning and by this modus operandi he would invariably leave no trace behind or any accomplice who may later spill the secret.

As time passed, Prabhas wanted to expand his clout which was already high in the world of crime. He realized that to go beyond this point he had to foray into politics. The elections for the State Assembly were a few months away and Prabhas decided to transfer his criminal influence to electoral politics. Although he had friends in all political parties but he chose the ruling party and joined it in the presence of a few state level leaders with a fanfare that overnight became the talk of the town. Post his political entry, Prabhas started exploring options how to get the party ticket for the elections. The sitting MLA was an established leader with almost two decades of experience as a lawmaker and enjoyed decent support from the central leadership of the ruling party. Prabhas realized that his chances of replacing the sitting MLA could only be accomplished if somehow, he could liquidate the person. The ruthless criminal mind of Prabhas started conjuring plots.

On two consecutive nights Prabhas went on a reconnaissance mission to the residence of the MLA which was just a kilometer from his own residence. Prabhas noted that the MLA moved around in the company of a private security personnel and had an escort police vehicle. On the second night he noted that the four police constables were always complacent. Among the four police constables, only one was armed.

It was a dark night when at around ten in the night Prabhas silently left his mansion from the rear door. None of his accomplices knew about this secret endeavour. For several years now Prabhas had always presented himself in public in all white attire but for this mission he wore khaki cargo trousers and a military worn out T shirt. He carried two revolvers, a Taurus 327 and a 2.7mm Kolibri. Today he took a different route to the residence of the MLA. The gates were closed but from his previous recce he knew that invariably the MLA returned at around eleven in the night.

Prabhas hid behind a bend and waited. The siren of the police escort at ten past eleven alerted him. The MLA alighted from his vehicle accompanied by his personal security guard. The police van remained closed. The adrenal gland pumped a dose of epinephrine in Prabhas's blood. Clutching his Taurus 327 revolver he approached the MLA from a side lane. Prabhas moved silently putting a poaching leopard to shame. He came within ten meters of his target. From a far corner of his sight the security guard caught the movement, he turned to face the intruder but did not live to see his face. The bullet caught his side temple even before his eighty-six billion neurons could decipher what was going on. The second bullet hit the MLA on the chest. A second later a fountain of blood gushed out. The sound of gunshots jolted the half sleeping constables and they struggled to come out of their vehicle. Prabhas was already on his way back taking long strides but showing no signs of panic.

Years of escort duty had made the four police constables lose focus on the job. The sight of two dead bodies including one who they were supposed to guard made them spring to action. As they were scrambling from their vehicle, one of them had seen a silhouette take the lane leading to the main road. The four police men started running following the shadow of the man who was now beyond sight. At the bend, as they ran full steam, they caught sight of a moving shadow almost fifty meters ahead walking briskly.

Walking at a speed just shy of a trot, a sixth sense prompted Prabhas that he was being followed. Without slowing his pace, he glanced behind and saw four policemen running towards him. Prabhas had to go straight but his instincts told him that he had no time. Suddenly he turned right and took the narrow lane. His intuition prompted him to look for a hiding place. Prabhas spotted a makeshift hut in a corner. He rushed inside. Pappu was already in his worn-out bed of old straw stuffed mattress. Today he was late to sleep since he had to feed his snakes and had to catch the rats. He sprang to a sitting position as someone barged into his small tent. The man seemed frightened. His eyes were searching for a place to hide. It took less than a few seconds for Pappu to recognize that the man, looking highly vulnerable to an invisible threat, was Prabhas. Pappu's mind suddenly recalled the moment when as a five-year-old he had seen the same face pump bullets in his father and mother's body.

In that split second Pappu debated a plethora of options, he realized that his heart and mind did not concur. He decided to follow his mind. Pappu gestured to the intruder to come to his bed and lie down. Once the intruder was in supine position, Pappu put all his clothes on top of the person making a mound of soiled clothes. Finally, he covered everything with an old bedsheet. Pappu took his place lying down where he was sleeping.

The policemen lost sight of the fleeing man while they ran in pursuit. As they came to the bend where the road gave way to a narrow path, they felt unsure which way to follow. On cue, two policemen went inside the lane and two stayed on the road running ahead. The two policemen who had taken the narrow lane had no idea where this lane went. They found a lone hut at a broader area of the kerb. One of the policemen with the gun, pushed the old cloth hanging at the entrance and entered the hut. Pappu expected this. Purposefully he made an effort to get up rubbing his eyes as if waking from deep slumber. The panting policeman asked whether he had seen someone pass by. Pappu nodded his head in negative. The policeman convinced of the truthfulness of the beggar left the hut.

It had been decades since Prabhas could recollect when he had last visited a temple, however today, lying motionless under a pile of stinking clothes he thanked all the Gods he knew. After twenty minutes he pushed his camouflage aside and got up. He saw Pappu, a man with a characteristic face and a broken leg. Prabhas wanted to give this man something but had nothing except his two revolvers. Leaving the hut, he mumbled something which Pappu did not understand. As Prabhas walked out of the hut, Pappu's face sported a crooked smile.

The murder of the MLA and his security guard became a hot news. Prabhas was among the first political leader to visit the MLA's house and offer his condolences. The Police Commissioner was under immense pressure to solve the crime. He immediately suspended the four policemen who were on escort duty. It was within forty-eight hours that the police announced at a hurriedly convened press conference that they have arrested four persons and the gang has confessed to the crime. Public memory is ephemeral and it took only a couple of days before the murder of the MLA was lost in the cacophony of other crime stories.

The election was announced and Prabhas was the front runner to get the ticket of the ruling party for fighting the election. He got the ticket. Such was his terror that ardent supporters of other political parties displayed Prabhas's party flag on top of their houses. Roadside banners proclaimed that Prabhas and his family have always worked for the underprivileged class of the society. Petty political leaders conducted mass campaigns singing paeans of the philanthropy of Prabhas. Election came and went. Prabhas won the election with a record margin of votes.

With government machinery at his disposal, Prabhas found his empire flourishing without any hiccups. He started extending his influence on other MLAs not only of his party but from other political parties too. Within a couple of years, he was able to engineer a split in the main opposition party, much to the appreciation of his party high command. Prabhas emerged as the new blue-eyed boy of the political scene.

Five years passed by in a jiffy. Next elections were round the corner. Prabhas was an automatic choice for the party ticket to fight the election. This time he was also consulted by the high command before ticket distribution in other neighbouring constituencies. In the elections, Prabhas again won by a high margin of votes. For his influence within the party Prabhas was given a Cabinet rank with the Medical Department under his charge.

The new found Cabinet rank meant more power. Prabhas started to enjoy his influence not only in the city but also in the whole state. Frequently Prabhas found coverage in print and digital media. At places around the city, big billboards displayed his smiling photographs with different slogans. The gullible voters found no reason to doubt the integrity of the Honourable Minister. The Minister became a demi God!

Pappu's life had not changed. As per his schedule he begged collecting alms on Tuesdays and Thursday and also sold venom to agents from his two snakes which he kept in his hut. At times when he saw a smiling Prabhas face on a billboard, his mind would wander to that fateful day when he first looked at this face with horror while his father was shot dead. His other memory took him to that fateful night when this smiling face was terron stricken and had found refuge in his hut. At times Pappu felt remorse of having not alerted the policeman on that night.

Greed is something which has no boundaries. Within a couple of years of becoming a cabinet minister, Prabhas started dreaming of becoming the Chief Minister. Prabhas realized that this was a tall order. There was no way the current Chief Minister could be replaced. Prabhas started thinking in a different direction. He stumbled upon a plan.

The second anniversary of the Government was approaching and Prabhas floated a proposal in the cabinet to organize a grand felicitation function for the Chief Minister. As part of the proposal, a big function would be organized in the constituency of Prabhas which will be attended by the Chief Minister. Every politician loves adulation and the Chief Minister was no different. The proposal was approved.

The Intelligence unit of the Police received a call which made several people concerned. A caller from an unknown number methodically mentioned that an assassination attempt would be made against the Chief Minister in the felicitation function. Within minutes the State Intelligence Bureau was searching for the origin of the call. The buck stopped at a roadside, almost defunct, public call office. It was difficult to find the person who had made the call. In less than an hour the Chief Minister was informed about the threat.

The date of the function was fast approaching. The administration was on its toes, the venue was being constantly monitored by plain clothes intelligence personnel. The police had prepared a full SOP to ensure security.

Prabhas too felt the pressure of Chief Minister's function. He too had a lot of unfinished agenda, albeit in a different direction. Just a week remained for the function. Following his own devised algorithm, Prabhas's mind never required any written SOPs. He asked his office to book his air tickets for Mumbai. Tonight, he made a mental note to call his film producer friend for a personal favour. Last night he had already called an accomplice in Mumbai to arrange for an AK 47 rifle for a day.

While in his hotel room in Mumbai, Prabhas had many visitors. Mostly it was the political cadre which wanted to interact with the rising star of the ruling political party. In the night Prabhas moved to a secret destination which was only accessible to a few select old friends. His film producer friend informed him that as per Prabhas's request he had booked the Sonic Octaves Sound Recording Studio in Malad West. At around midnight through a discreet messenger Prabhas received a sealed bag containing the AK 47 rifle with a fully loaded seventy-five round magazine.

The Sonic Octaves Sound Recording Studio was a professional recording studio which catered to all kinds of recording jobs. The staff had become so used to their work that they seldom paid any heed to the final outcome of their work. Professionally the supervisor of the recording unit listened to what his client wanted this Friday morning and accomplished the recording. It was within three hours that Prabhas took a taxi from Malad West to his hotel. The sixty-four GB pendrive was the only addition which he had taken from the recording studio. After returning the AK 47 to the underworld accomplice, Prabhas took the return flight in the afternoon.

Just three days remained for the felicitation function of the Chief Minister. The huge fire proof tent was already in its place. At any given time, hundreds of policemen guarded the venue. The State Intelligence Department was already monitoring the phone of a large number of known criminals and opposition politicians in the hope of getting advance intelligence on any possible assassination attempt. The metal detectors had been installed and every person was being frisked. The local MLA who was also the cabinet minister for Medical Department was constantly monitoring all the preparations. He had issued strict instructions for a fool proof security.

Prabhas made some important transfers in his department just a couple of days before the felicitation function. The doctors in the emergency wing of the district hospital were transferred. Officially it was notified that this was being done to bring the best doctors in the district hospital before the important function.

The mega tent was finally ready. The stage where the Chief Minister was to sit had been thoroughly sanitized by several layers of security. The terraces of the high-rise buildings around the tent ground had both hidden and obvious sharp shooters who continuously scanned the horizon and the road for any suspicious activity. The sound system inside the tent had been checked including the speaker boxes for any hidden explosive devices. The Police Commissioner had set up a camp office inside the tent to oversee the security detail.

While everything was ready, the sound system incharge had suddenly reported ill. There was a panic like condition in the organizing committee and as per instructions, this message was faithfully transmitted to Prabhas for further instructions. A calm and composed Prabhas informed the Police Commissioner that he is sending a person who shall control the sound system. Within ten minutes a new sound system operator was at his work. He checked all the systems and found that the system was working fine.

Prabhas noted that all his preparations were complete. The doctors had been instructed at the District Hospital and in the ambulance, the sound operator was in full command and the two injections of ketamine were already kept in the pockets of his Nehru Jacket. Just thirty minutes remained for the event. The Chief Minister's helicopter had already landed in the adjacent ground. Prabhas had gone to welcome him.

The stage was elegantly decorated. Only two persons were on the dais. A horde of gun totting security took their position behind the Chief Minister. The two flower bouquet meant to be presented to the Chief Minister and Prabhas had been sanitized by two separate security teams. The function started with the lighting of the traditional lamp.

The sound operator took out the pen drive from his pocket and inserted it in the sound system. He looked at his watch. A couple of minutes were left when he had to start the pen drive. As the clock struck sixty seconds, the sound operator pressed the 'play' button. It was at this moment that the Chief Minister was getting up from his Chair to address the crowd. In respect of the Chair, the cabinet minister had also risen from the chair.

The crowd heard the rapid firing of chilling automatic gunfire, everyone was stunned. Nobody knew from where the AK 47 was being fired. The security was taken by surprise. Some took evasive action and some scrambled to hold their weapons. On the stage there was a state of melee. The Chief Minister involuntarily ducked to shield himself from the unknown line of fire. His cabinet colleague hugged the Chief Minister in a show of protection. Both the men fell down on the stage. It was in that frenzy, while the tent reverberated with intermittent gun fire, that Prabhas silently pushed the needle of his ketamine loaded syringe through the 'kurta' of the Chief Minister. The CM already under the weight of Prabhas felt a twitch but with his heart beating like a sparrow from fresh adrenaline, he remained still.

There was utter commotion in the tent, people ran for shelter. The security personnel felt clueless to pin point the source of the gunfire. The ambulance team arrived within a minute. The doctor on duty tried to resuscitate the CM but he was unconscious. Prabhas had gained composure and fervently yelled to take the CM to the hospital. It was within a couple of minutes that an unconscious CM was on his way to the district hospital with an entourage which included Prabhas's official car.

The CM was wheeled on a stretcher inside the emergency ward of the hospital. The two doctors on duty felt the pulse, it was palpable. Professionally the other doctor inserted a cannula and connected the saline drip. Silently he took out a syringe from the refrigerator which had two hundred units of insulin and pushed the contents in the saline bottle.

Within minutes, a crowd had swelled outside the hospital. The police were having a tough time controlling the media persons. Prabhas stood at the gate of the ward looking immensely worried. It was after thirty minutes that one of the doctors emerged from the ward and briefed the media persons. In measured terms he said that the CM had suffered a cardiac arrest and that he was in a critical condition.

The insulin started working. Still comatose from ketamine, the CM had no idea that his blood glucose was steadily reaching the critical point. A few drops of perspiration trickled on his forehead. His pulse became weak and slow. The high dose of insulin was still at work. The CM's brain stopped working; it took another thirty minutes for the heart to stop.

Within minutes all the TV channels began breaking the news of CM's death. There were many angles to the story. From gunshot injury to cardiac arrest, the verdict was split. The story of gunfire in the CM's event was also being debated. Most of the TV channels ascribed this assassination as a security lapse. One reporter who was present on the scene did report that despite the sound of the gunfire, no shots were fired. The story of CM's assassination was so dominant that the actual events at the function were lost in the ensuing debates.

In Delhi the Central Leadership also took stock of the death of a sitting CM. Politics is all about eulogizing the present, the past has no relevance. All the talk in the Central Leadership focused on finding the new CM. Although there was a debate but most members agreed that the best candidate would be the present Cabinet Minister Prabhas Shukla.

Even before the cremation of the former CM, a silent celebration was underway in Prabhas's mansion. News had percolated that the Central Leadership had decided upon his name as the new CM.

The official news on the selection of the new CM was given to the Governor the next day. Prabhas was also duly communicated the date and time of swearing in. Prabhas felt a sense of satisfaction, not for the fact that he was going to the CM but for the reason that he had executed a perfect plan. His brain started secreting dopamine.

The road was lined with an unending long queue of cars. All sported the insignia of the ruling party. The walls were plastered with the beaming face of Prabhas Shukla. News had come that the new CM would soon be going to Raj Bhawan to take the oath.

While it had taken just under twenty years for Prabhas to become the CM, the intervening years had been a long and painful journey for Pappu. Life had been very cruel to him. His broken leg was always in pain. Every night when he slept on the makeshift floor, he remembered the night when a young man had mercilessly killed his parents. Even after thirty years the pain was so harsh that he still felt moisture in his eyes. On umpteen times he had cursed himself of not having given Prabhas to the policeman when he hid in his cottage. Today as he saw the walls plastered with photos of Prabhas Shukla his mind went back in time and he wanted to take revenge.

A few days back Pappu had harvested the venoms from his snakes. The venom would fetch him good money since the two snakes he had were kraits. Pappu bandaged his right hand and taped a small syringe with a needle inside so that only the tip was protruding while the syringe was hidden below the bandage. He aspirated almost all the venom from the vial into the syringe. Once equipped, Pappu traversed the two hundred meters distance painfully using a walking stick up to the mansion of Prabhas Shukla. Already a long line had been formed leading from the gate of the mansion upto the car which was the official car of the CM. Pappu could see a long unending queue of cars both preceding and following the CM's official car. Pappu got a place at the end of the line of persons vying with each other for a glimpse of their new CM.

Prabhas Shukla, in all white, emerged from his mansion amidst deafening roar from the crowd. He passed the line of people paying obeisance. Frequently he would stop to say a word or pat someone. Almost at the end, Prabhas saw Pappu. He remembered this invalid beggar. Prabhas had a sharp memory and he instantly remembered that this beggar had given him a place to hide when the police had almost caught him. Prabhas bent and touched Pappu in a show of affection. Pappu with his right hand heavily bandaged caught Prabhas's feet and started weeping. Prabhas felt a sharp pain. In normal circumstances the result may have been different but the importance of the day and the sight of the weeping beggar prompted Prabhas to ignore the momentary discomfort. He moved on and sat in his car.

The caravan of cars moved instantly. Prabhas could see that people stood on both sides of the street. It was a dream come true. Five minutes into the journey, Prabhas felt a strange headache. As he tried to focus on the street ahead his eyes started giving him blurred images. He wanted the car to stop but found that no words were coming out from his mouth. His tongue was paralyzed.

The caravan reached its destination. A huge crowd was waiting to welcome the new CM. As the CM's car stopped, several people rushed to open the door. The door was opened. The crowd was stunned. The dead body of Prabhas Shukla lay motionless on the seat.

The city was aghast at the news of the death of the popular leader. All the loudspeakers were muted. On the banks of Yamuna River, on a raised stone structure, sat Pappu looking at the serenity of this majestic river which was perhaps the only witness to a ghastly twin murder of Suresh and his wife some thirty years back. What you sow comes back.