Joined: 03 December 2010
"Tell me more about the eyes."
Passing me the glass of water, he pressed me for details, without a trace of urgency or haste. It wasn't a gesture of concern, because coming from him, it was like a receptionist's smile - something he was boringly and obligingly accustomed to doing, as part of his job.
I wasn't mindful enough of his lack of sympathy, just right then. Quite thankfully instead, I drank in a large gulp of the chilled water. Then I took in a deep breath, and closed my eyes to remember what I would have given anything to forget - the sight of those eyes through the face mask ... The translucent hazel that turned to steel when they narrowed to focus upon ...
My own eyes fell open with a start, a shudder passing through my spine. He sat looking at me intently, and the very distant comprehending part of my mind held onto the subconscious former belief - it wasn't out of concern, but routine. He was being merely patient with me, a crucial witness to this fifth murder case in the neighbourhood, that had kept their hands full here at Scotland Yard, this entire awful week of rainy afternoons. In this weatherly respect, today was no different.
"They were cold," I whispered. My voice had refused to come full volume ever since the incident early this morning, sometime before the onset of dawn.
"Nuances of grey ... they turned dark ... very dark when he ... when ... " I inhaled sharply and ran a hand forcefully through the tangled mess of my long tresses. If I'd survived the sight of that ruthless stabbing, surely, I could survive speaking it out loud ... ?
Any other day, any other time, this man would have driven me over the edge. Why here I was, at all my nerves' end, and all he offer me was an 'I see' ... ? Sure! He could see nothing at all. Nothing! Unknowingly, I had worked myself into something of a breathlesness. Unknowingly also, I was scowling deeply, staring, or rather glaring at him. Perhaps he sensed it, for he met my eye, interrupting his professional strokes on the canvas, sketching the murder suspect.
"Are you alright?"
There it was, the water glass yet again, raised up for me. I wanted to scream the obvious 'no I'm not!' right into his face; instead I held back and re gathered my dissipating composure. I did however reject his attempt to drown my extreme discomfiture with mere cold water - what was I, a flushing system?
"They were quite like yours," I told him bluntly staring into his eyes, and momentarily, the revelation of my own words shocked even me.
"What! Come again?" he suddenly sat straight. His eyes seemed to pierce the very inner core of me, trying to measure me and my sanity. 'Ahem.. Ahem" he coughed and cleared his throat. This time it was his turn to take a sip of water from the glass.
As soon as he was composed, I plucked up all my courage and said "Yes am sure of it. It was hard, cold and steel eyes. Taking absolute joy in the action his hands was doing and his mind reveling in the pleasure of such inhuman behavior" I said a little too fast, wanting to get over this enquiry as fast as possible and also to escape those inquisitive eyes.
He seemed to sense my predicament. He stopped his fiddling his pen and suddenly smiled at me. It was a revelation. Oh my God that face! It dazzled the daylights out of me.. Suddenly I felt like a magnet drawn towards it. But something stopped me. It's not right. He is a policeman doing his job. You are a witness to a murder that happened just across the street, in the apartment opposite yours. Collect yourself Saachi", I told myself, taking a deep breath and rearranging my composure and thoughts.
With a false smile plastered on my face, I filled in the gory details how that old woman was killed by that ruthless stabbing. A life ended in a horrible way. While saying this I almost choked with emotions. I had done a good job of keeping them under control so far, but sitting across him and reliving those moments, opened a dam inside me, the tears now flowing freely.
A kerchief was thrust under my eyes. "There, there. Its over now, no worry and no more questions. ahh for now, at least" he said as an afterthought. The action was gruff, but his voice was gentle. Accepting it, I blew my nose and contemplated of giving it back to him, but decided he wouldn't want a soiled one inside his pocket.. I looked up and saw the gentle yet, scrutinizing glance he was giving my troubled self. I felt like laughing and trying to reach out to him..It was ridiculous. Have I gone mad...This Man is evoking more myriad of emotions inside me, churning my inner sanity.
"Thank you" I said my voice shaky and almost a whisper."Am ok now". I smiled bravely. A giggle escaped from me. I quickly choked on it; it led to a fit of hiccups'Now he knelt before me, tenderly handing me the glass of water again..I felt like he was proposing with that damn glass..Jerking myself, I suddenly noticed the hiccups gone..
His posture was the same. I slowly looked up, meeting his eyes..Now they seem to smolder and inviting me to join in that glorious heat it was emanating. The black eyes spoke volumes while both of us were silent'The minutes passed , the flapping of his notepad's papers making merry sounds, the tick tocking clock in the background proving the oh laa laa music.. A crazy notion of the ever dreamy self of this novelist..Yeah that's what I write in my novels and now experiencing it in real life!
The incessant ringing of the door bell broke the spell. He too must have felt something .I thought, for suddenly he straightened up and like a guilty child, gave a furtive glance all around my apartment. Slowly with his hands brushing his hair behind his head, he walked on to open the door. My door! How ironical. Here Iam the host and being inquired about this murder and here he was, a cop feeling totally at ease and walking casually, like owning this place, towards the door to open it.
His Deputy from the yard breezed past in, his overcoat dripping the rainy water all over my foyer's carpet. "Shravan Sir, are you finished? There seems to be some lead from an anonymous source. The yard is now buzzing with this, serial murders. Our number One is asking for you. So you go ahead sir. I will take care of things here" he said in an officious manner.
Oh so this Man's name was Shravan. Well a nice name that had a ringing tinge to it. "No Sam. It's all finished here..at least for now " he said eyeing me with knowing look. Anything more I can always drop in and update myself" ..he glanced around once again and almost pushing his deputy said " Let's go. The yard awaits us'. With a final look he went out into the cold rainy afternoon.
As soon as I was about to close the door on them, he materialized from nowhere and put his hands on the doorframe." Ma am, I would advise you to get someone trustworthy to be with you at all times. Never leave your house unlocked and while going outside make sure you inform us about your whereabouts. Better still get a chaperon, avoid going out alone" and then as last parting words said "Take care".
I was left at the door fretting and fuming at his words. Well! Am I not a grown up woman, an adult, living in London, perfectly capable of managing my affairs and talking care of myself? How dare he talk in a patronizing manner! But then soon my anger and indignation gave way to cold logic. Yes I was shaken badly by the turn of events. Being a witness to a murder doesn't give you much choice of freedom, while the criminal and murderer is still at large. A cold shiver ran up my spine enveloping me in an unknown fear.
But then however much Shravan's words were true, I still felt an unreasonable anger towards him. "What's this dichotomy of feelings towards him" I wondered aloud. Calling my close friend, I made arrangements for her to stay with me for a day or two. Reassured I walked out into the street unmindful of the chilly and rainy weather.
My legs carried me, involuntarily to the apartment opposite mine. Even though the police had taped off the flat, I managed to duck under it and enter. A lone cop on security duty nodded to me, as though I had been given the authority to enter.. Being a witness seemed to be a passport for unlimited access to cordon off areas. The old widow, who lived here, was decently rich. The furnishings and, the dcor and the curios, all radiated the wealth and comfortable living of the deceased. Peeping out through the windows I saw my flat directly opposite. Standing in this very living room, I tried to picture how the scene must have been.
Earlier that dawn, after a night of feverish writing, I had a cup of steaming hot coffee. Glancing out of my windows at the expanse of a clutter of apartment blocks, a movement had caught my eye. Looking up I saw a masked man doing the unthinkable of ending the helpless woman's life. He was so engrossed that he hardly gave a glance elsewhere. When my silent screams and frantic waves caught his attention, he turned slowly towards me. His masked face except for that slit for his eyes and the rest of the body clad in black was a picture of a savage panther going through with its kill.
I vividly, remember the hazel eyes that had turned a cold steel grey on seeing me and enjoying its kill. It mocked me as though it didn't care about someone witnessing this gory act. Then in the blink of an eye, the figure vanished and all that was left was, for me to call the cops. Even now standing here, I couldn't visualize clearly what happened afterward. Everything was a blur and I had almost swooned due to the hectic happenings around me. But thankfully I kept my head above the din and the cooperated with the cops. The last of which was the arrival of Mr. Shravan, the chief constable, which really rattled my composure.
Returning to my pad, I tried writing... But no words formed, everything was dried up, my thoughts of Him constricting my free flow. Switching on the TV resulted in a desultory changing of channels, nothing catching my attention. Trying to eat an early supper only helped in losing my appetite. The hours passed in a tedious boredom. Walking inside my apartment like a caged tigress helped me in doing something worthwhile, burning my calories and pent up energies.
The hours passed by. It was getting close to 10 pm. No sign of my friend so far. Getting a little concerned, I called her up, only to receive a message that she was out somewhere and will revert later. Was she on her way here? She was supposed to be here for dinner. But in my own anxiety and preoccupation, I didn't pay much attention to her lateness. An hour or so later yielded the same reply on her phone and her cell was switched off. Damn it! She can't do this to me, not now when I needed her the most.
My fear started to raise its ugly head. I felt my home not radiating its usual warmth, but an uneasy chillness. With my stomach churning, leaving me in a dreadful state, I gulped a glass of water, trying to get a hold of my nerves. Looking at the glass, I was suddenly hit by a brainwave. Oh! What a fool I have been (which is the usual case, most of the time). Scurrying like a mouse towards a piece of cheese, I zeroed in on the card Shravan had given me (incase I wanted any assistance). Feeling elated already, my fears vanished. I raked my brain as to what I should say, when he answers my call.
With sweaty hands, I reached for my phone and dialed his number. My heart beating faster, I waited impatiently for his voice..When it came after the first two rings, I was at a loss for words. It must have sounded crazy for him to hear a deep breathing and no sound from the other end.
"Hello, Helooo" he repeated again. Then realizing the caller, he said" Uggh, Is that you Saachi? Are you alright? What happened?" he fired away the questions like his rifle.
"Hmmm..Ahhh. Yes Hello. How are you? How was your day?" I asked. Ridiculous it was. Here Iam, calling him up asking for help and Iam making small talk. Have my screws of brain got loose?..
Guess he must have read my situation correctly. His voice was gentle and he asked again what was troubling me. I immediately briefed him and wondered whether he could help me. Actually I wanted him to come over again and dispel my loneliness and be a guard for me at the same time. He must have read my signals right, for it was quite loud and clear.
"Oh well. Don't worry. I will come over shortly. Till then lock yourself securely and don't leave any windows or outside doors open" he said being the policeman first.
"Yes I will. See you soon" I said too quickly, trying to hide my relief and joy. I could even hear a faint trace of chuckle from the other end, but then I didn't care. Somehow I felt am safer now.
Soon enough, I heard the doorbell ringing a little later. Without even thinking I opened it, only to find an angry and concerned Shravan. For a moment I was confused. What provoked him to present a face like this? I wondered.
"Well, in spite of warning you still opened the door without asserting who's on the other end? Don't you have any sense? After undergoing all that, you act as though you don't care anything" he said, now his voice more of a concern and showing traces of indignation.
I reeled back at his words, but realized my foolishness. This man makes me forget all my worry and problems; my sanity and being. Yes I thought. Standing in my foyer, looking at him standing just inside my door, I realized I had fallen flat for him. Yep. Yep. I almost yelped in joy. I was in love with him. A love that I realized hitting me hard and strong, making me fall head over heels in love with him.
The French call it Coup de Foudre - a falling in love so obsessive, it obliterated everything else. I was feeling it now. Oh! Here I am a sane and practical person hardly knowing him till today and like a thunderbolt, I have fallen for him. It was a kind of insanity, a love so intense it transmuted the ordinary into sublime.
Hiding my red face, partly due to the fact he ticked me off and partly due to my sudden realization, I invited him. He made himself at home. A casual sense of belonging, a man at complete ease, at whatever he does.
Over the next few hours and over endless cups of hot chocolate, we sat facing each other and talked. Well I did most of the talking, while he listened. I spoke at length about my journey of life so far. My struggles and strives to become a journalist and then a novelist later. My parents' unrelenting support , in spite of being based in India still, giving me the strength and courage to tread on a path of thorns and roses.
As the time passed I found him opening up too. Initially he talked about some vital clue and lead about these murders. "There seems to be some common thread between all these murders. Am very close to untangling it and hopefully will be able to solve it soon" he seemed confident and positive.
Just when I thought of congratulating him, he brought me crashing back to reality." You are the only one to witness this murder; A prized asset to us. So do take care of yourself and never be alone" he spoke, his voice slightly quivering, betraying some sort of emotions that he must have felt for me, Iam sure.
He slowly warmed up either to the chocolate or to me, I never know. But he talked at length about his family, his aspirations and his goal of becoming a cop much against his family's objections and business interests and much more.
The time passed and suddenly we realized that much was exchanged and we both had crossed our personal space and now truly and well settled into each other's mind and heart. No words were required to be said. It was implicit and loud and clear. Both felt a strong attraction for each other. Only I was in total love with him. Hook, line and sinker! Did he feel the same way? I strongly suspected, but not sure of it.
In the wee hours of the morning we managed to get some sleep. Me, in my bedroom and he, on the couch in the living room. Somehow I felt at peace in a long time and slept immediately and soundly.
I woke up to the strong smell of aromatic and inviting filter coffee. For a minute I was dazed and clueless. But all was cleared like the sun cleaning up the mist. Tightening my robe, I gingerly stepped into my kitchen. I was amazed to see Shravan brewing a wonderful coffee, which I had never been able to get it right and there was a delicious yummy smell of Aaloo Poha accompanying it.
He apologized for invading my kitchen and poking with the pots and pans. "After all a man has to eat and being away from my family all these years had taught me the nuances of the art of cookery" he volunteered. I was dumbstruck by the sight of him. His shirt unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up, hair tousled, wearing my apron around his waist; he presented a perfect picture of a domesticated man, a good husband material. A tall and hunky, cool and sexy cop cooking breakfast for me! The delicious smell wafted from the kitchen, inviting me with its open arms.
Well! Well! This man never ceases to amaze me. A cop, a companion and almost my man and now a cook. Indeed when this whole mystery was solved, I will headlong straight at him, with my magic wand waving and weaving him in my heart's love for him. I will woo him till he forgets himself and declares his love for me. Haa, haa.. There! I had decided.
With my lips smacking at that prospect I entered the kitchen. Shravan for his part, thought that I was hungry and impatient for the breakfast he had made for us. Ohh, my mouth was already watering. But my drooling for him should have been obvious like the Taj Mahal. Alas, if he was aware of it, he either chose to ignore it or didn't know how to react to this truckload of my love, hitting him.
The breakfast was eaten in a companionable silence, both keeping to our own thoughts and devices. While leaving for the day Shravan warned me to be on my guard and informed that he would make arrangements for someone from the Yard to keep a 24hr vigil over me. Feeling somewhat glad and sad at the same time I bid goodbye to him, sure of seeing him in the evening; For after all it was only a matter of time before we confessed our love for each other.
"Are you sure its love? Or is it infatuation that you have? Or is it your wild imagination?" you may ask me. Being a journalist turned novelist, I know this gut feeling. What I have felt am sure and confirmed about and what he feels for me is the same, but he's yet to realize it. Watching him the previous night, I could observe all his body language and the subtle signs emanating from him. The signals' he was sending me unknowingly was captured loud and clear by the antenna of my heart and brain. Well here I go again, blabbering, my thoughts to you all. In short I could feel it in my bones of his love for me. It time soon, we both will sail on the boat of love towards an entangled destiny.
Ringing my friend again yielded no result. Either something serious had come up or something was wrong with her phone. After my morning ablutions, I found a constable waiting at my door on security duty. Feeling immensely reassured, I had a quick lunch. Suddenly an idea struck me. I thought I will investigate what is wrong with my friend.
Much to the chagrin of the police man and his objections I wanted to get out. But being a cop from the yard, he was immune to my pleadings and reasoning to step out of the building without proper permission from Shravan. Oh well I thought; I mustn't step out the side the building, but I can always visit the landlady who was ever so sweet and motherly towards me. So with great cajoling and coaxing, I managed to get out of my flat to go downstairs to see her.
As I entered the elevator, I saw a pizza delivery man, just entering as the door was about to close. With a cursory glance and nod at him, I was preoccupied with my thoughts about Shravan and how he had already started making my life difficult. Well all in a good sense I suppose.
Suddenly I felt a gun thrust at my back. With trepidation, I slightly turned around, only to stare at that, cold and steel hazel eyes of the murderer. The revelation hit me. Here I was trapped in a lift, with him and no one was aware of it. A witness to a murder was now under the mercy of that murderer.
"Don't ever think of stopping the elevator or, screaming out for help. If you cooperate with me, your life will be spared, at least for now. Otherwise I can't promise anything'' he said in a menacing manner.
Fear and despair overcame my speech and even the breath of air I tried to inhale. What a foolish mistake I had committed. Being brave was one thing, but being reckless was an all together different matter. I realized it for the first time in my life. Irrespective of whether he will spare me for now or not, I was doomed anyways. A witness to a murder, who could easily identify the killer, was always a liability to the criminal. And here I was presenting him with the perfect opportunity to do away with me.
With the gun still pressing at my back, we entered the ground floor lobby. Even before the doors closed he dragged me towards the service exit at the backdoor of the building. Hardly a sound was heard by anyone. The muzzle of the gun at my back, refrained me from making any noise but to play along with the criminal. As soon as we reached the street outside, I was pushed into a nondescript car, with darkened windows. When I bounced on the seat, he covered my face with a balaclava cap and handcuffed me. All this happened in a blink of the eye and hardly anyone on the street noticed it.
Alas I was truly and well doomed, with no chance of escape or alerting anyone. We travelled for some time, on smooth and later bumpy roads. Time was no matter or essence as I was already groggy with pain on my hands and found it difficult to breathe too. I almost passed out tired of my efforts to keep up my sanity.
The car skidded to a screeching halt. I was shoved and pulled outside. Holding on to him for balance, I felt the chill air of evening hitting me. Undoubtedly it must have rained, for I could smell the Petrichor (smell of fresh rain on dry ground) and feel the wet earth beneath my feet. A door was opened and I was pushed in. Slowly my mask was taken off and my handcuffs removed.
Rubbing my bruised wrist and blinking frequently, my adjusted eyes, saw that it was a warehouse of some sort. My kidnapper pushed me through the expanse of the space and welcomed me to enter a tiny windowless room at the corner.
"This madam, will be your home for some time. If all goes well and according to my plans, I may be magnanimous in releasing you. Else, it's your bad luck'' he laughed at his own cruel joke and banged the door shut leaving me alone and helpless. How I wished I had stayed at home and not ventured out at all. Now this predicament was eating my mind out. I felt very bad in letting down Shravan. We had something started and now my foolishness had ruined it. For the first time, since the incident I felt like crying.
Shravan received the call from the constable. He was shocked and angered that, in spite of his best efforts to protect his precious witness, she was snatched away, from under the very watchful eyes of the Yard. A frantic call from the cop set the pace of this furious search for Saachi.
Sometime between yesterday and today the thin line of professionalism and personal entity of his life, had crossed over and merged. Never had he harbored such a feeling for woman. She was troubling his very composure and carefully built facade of professional aloofness. He closed his eyes and images of her captivating eyes, her laughing face, her quaint perfume and glorious and shiny hair, her sensuous figure all rolled past him, unbalancing him. The wall seemed to be crumbling by the minute. He was helpless and itching at the same time, to get some action done. The sooner Saachi was found, the better for him. He was sure, the murderer was the kidnapper.
Sitting in his cubicle, thinking logically and analyzing all the inputs about the previous murders, he came to a conclusion that all these five murders had a common thread. The beneficiaries of the deceased's will was all pointing to an orphanage. Somehow this glaring clue was overlooked during those investigations. Now it was hitting him on the face. In the mean time, a little enquiry about Saachi's friend, gave him the missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle he was trying to put together.
The lady informed him that, previous evening some police officer had called her saying, Saachi had been moved to safe place and there was no requirement of her to come over. She was even asked to switch off her cell and leave a message on her landline.
Well all this surely pointed, that the killer had planned for each and every contingency and made his moves cleverly and carefully. So all that was left now was to make discreet enquires and a round the clock vigil of that orphanage. Feeling slightly better and confident that the case will be solved and Saachi would be released soon, Shravan relaxed a little.
There after things started moving like a well oiled machine. On investigation, the orphanage seemed to be genuine, and never was involved in any shady activities. On the surface everything seemed aboveboard, but something about it didn't ring true. A gut feeling, that something sinister was buried deep.
With his assistant in tow, he waylaid the man in charge and running the orphanage. A few sterner tactics yielded the desired result. The man was only a front, the real brain and power behind it was someone else. This wasn't just an orphanage and an adoption centre, but it was also involved in a couple of underworld activities like human and drug trafficking.
"Children from Third world countries, mainly from India, were carefully selected and kidnapped. Once they reached Britain they were sent off as trade commodities, to discerning members of the rich world. Inside their bags and sometimes even inside their bodies, packets of opium and marijuana were smuggled to those needy countries. The operations and dealings was all, supervised and carried out by the man behind all this, whose identity am unaware of. I am just a front man for this organization. I don't really get involved in any of these activities." the weasel pleaded evoking disgust from Shravan.
Though shocking it was useful information. Shravan, the ever logical, then proceeded to investigate the five different legal firms who had prepared the deceased's wills. A little coercion yielded the desired effect. The fingers seem to point at one person, an anonymous, who had gently lured these firms to suggest the name of the orphanage as their client's beneficiary. In turn, these not so popular legal firms stood a lot to gain from him. Greed overcame honesty.
"Now all that was left was to zero in on the Mastermind. Automatically the case would be solved and Saachi released. And then' Yes it was time to settle down in life" Shravan thought gleefully.
A thorough reinvestigation of all the previous murders was done, least any minute and minor clue was overlooked. One of the deceased and scribbled a name inside his telephone directory, that was somehow how overlooked before. "Rajiv Shah, orphan ,.. child' man'.'' The piece of information, a vital clue, set the balls rolling. The Yard always famous and thorough in their approach to each and every case, proved their worth.
Within the hour, shocking and horrifying information about Shah started pouring in. A diehard criminal he seemed to be a highly respected man among the immigrants. "It is always like this'' thought Shravan, "these vultures and eagles always chose their prey carefully and when least expected pounced upon them"..
Now, armed with an arrest warrant and proper reinforcements, Shravan, stormed into Shah's palatial house. After a little cat and mouse chase he was captured, with minimal gun fire. Holding him by the collar and hand cuffing him, Shravan asked "Where have you kept Saachi? What have you done to her?" he asked gruffly.
The man smirked and laughed. His hazel eyes turning to steel as he realized that they had still not discovered his warehouse. "Good let them do it themselves" he thought "no cooperation or opening of my mouth.
Shravan saw the message his cold and gleaming eyes was radiating. "Well, you think, you are clever and can get away. You are mistaken, you gutter rat. My men will soon unearth all the details of your complete criminal activities. Just wait and watch" he spoke loudly, his voice now brimming with confidence and pride.
I had completely lost the sense of time. A thorough weeping of my pent up feelings and self pity, had only made me more depressed. Here, incarcerated in a tiny windowless bare room, my despair was growing strong by the hour. Getting angry over self and hitting on the head resulted in only increasing my ever growing headache. The prospect of being found and released didn't sound good at all. While I was wallowing in misery, I suddenly saw the door bursting open, crashing with splinters all over.
I sat transfixed and rooted to my spot. There he was, my savior, standing behind the cops who had busted the door open. Like a beacon for weary travelers, a Knight in the shining armor, Shravan stood stoically, though his face reflected a myriad of emotions, his hands clutched at the sides, his appearance disheveled, all betraying his deep feelings for me.
Like a bullet racing out of the gun, unmindful of the fact that there was audience, I just flew across the tiny space and hugged him tightly, almost knocking him down. Tears flowed freely from my eyes, but I didn't care. Enclosed in his embrace, I felt safe and secure.
Later after some composure and sanity returned, Shravan explained, the whole incident. "The hazel eyed man is Rajiv Shah, a crook roaming in the cloak of respectability. His modus operandi was to identify old and lonely persons, who had money but hardly any family. He would call on them and play the card of orphanage and funds needed to run it".
"A lawyer would later approach them and prepare their wills, with gentle pushing of naming the orphanage as their beneficiary. Then after some months, Shah will do away with them and the result, more money for his shady activities."
Hearing this, a shudder passed through me. But still there was more to come."The old widow, residing opposite your flat, discovered by accident, that the orphanage was not what it seemed on the outside. She warned Shah and said that she would change her will".
"Shah panicked and thought that she will make a connection to the previous murders and inform the police. That's why he killed her much earlier than he planned to. But unfortunately for him, you saw the murder and became a liability for him. In any case, he was planning to do away with you as well, as he didn't want your existence hang like a sword of Damocles over him. But thankfully, the Yard was able to solve this case and locate this storehouse." Shravan finished talking and took a deep breath, but still his voice betrayed his deep feelings for me.
I knew in my guts he cared more than he cared himself. Call it a woman's intuition, but I know it was now a matter of time before he confesses his love for me. For my part, I was extremely relieved and happy that this ordeal was finally over. The criminal was arrested and his due comeuppance awaits him.
Later in the wee hours of the night, when all was over, we headed to my flat. With a glass of water in my hands, I offered him not just water, but also my love. My eyes and face reflected my heart's deep love for him. "I love you Shravan" I said softly but firmly. Looking into mine his eyes radiated happiness and spoke of his own feelings for me. "Yes Saachi. I too love you. I love you more than myself and am sure you will complete me in all aspects" he replied emphatically but with tenderness and gentleness. I didn't realize it at first, but your kidnapping snapped the self imposed wall around me".
There was nothing more to be said. Only two hearts united as one, beating the rhythm of love, loud enough to be heard by the whole world. A murder happened; the witness and cop fell for each other. A romance bloomed emitting the wonderful and divine fragrance of love. The murder resulted in an incidental love, but paved way for a permanent relationship. The witness married the cop and lived happily ever after.
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On the occasion of his birthday today let's stroll down the memory ...
While Kuch Kuch Hota Hai completes 16 years, we feature the actors who ...
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