Jubin was heading towards the last room of the row where the veranda ended. The second floor ends there. At 8 in the morning, sunlight was splashing on the locked door, beaming over the waist-high parapet. For one moment he looked at the Sun with a smile. Then unlocked the door and went inside.
The front wall was adored with few photo-frames. Jubin walked ahead. With folded hand, he greeted every photo and at last, he stopped in front of the big one.
The person in the photo looked similar age to him, if not then may be one or two years more. A pure face, resembled to a divine man. Very calm and cool yet so attractive that someone just can’t turn face other way.
Jubin was standstill. His face was changing every few minutes. There was fear, anger, cry, surprise, agony and yes, helplessness. So many moods changed within a span of few minutes. It’s like a cinema on its own changing from one scene to another.
The screen opened with a fateful evening when a ten year old boy faced a murderer. His parents were still lying in a pool of blood. The stranger was about to pull the trigger at the boy but holding back due to unknown reason. The boy’s world was already shattered and he couldn’t think his next move.
Few moments elapsed. Then the criminal opened his mouth.
‘Hey boy, come along with me. ‘
He was in no mood to wait and shouted again.
‘Hurry up, obey my words. Otherwise I’ll shoot.’
The boy couldn’t afford to lose his life. He followed the shooter.
The memory of his parents slowly succumbing to death in front of him was so fresh in his mind that it took several years to forget that dreadful evening. The criminal took him to a slum. In next some days, an unusual bond was knit between the murderer and the boy.
It was still unknown to Jubin why the shooter became so kind to him. He tried to know but couldn’t. He was fully cared for by Ramakant Sawant. Jubin started going to school again. Things were slowly coming to normal but the situation changed once again.
Ramakant lost his own parents to a shootout between two rival gangs, one of which he himself belongs to. Like Jubin, the destiny also made Ramakant, an orphan. Life again went on as usual but Ramakant was slowly transforming to a different man. He came under influence of a spiritual guru. But ill fate struck him again. Two days before when worshiping Lord Radhamadhav one morning, he was shot by unidentified gunman.
Jubin came to sense at the sound of a knock at door. He quickly turned to open it.
‘Babu, keya tum haspatal jaoge? Phone aya tha, woh abhi hosh me hai.’
Wiping his moist eyes, Jubin replied to the slum landlord
‘Kaise na jaun? Nahi bhul sakta woh mujhe bada kiya. Maine to unko ma mana hai.’
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