It's my life

 

He is approaching me, slowly. I can see him. The man I had been breathlessly waiting for, to kill him.

My guru’s teachings were still reverberating in my ears. ‘He needs to be killed. It is him who nailed the death pins to many of our comrades’ coffins. We should never let him live any more’

Today is the judgement day.

Our slain comrades will receive the much-awaited justice.

‘Come on baby, come on. You have hardly a handful of minutes to breathe in this beautiful earth. Enjoy your final minutes the maximum.’

 

He was actually in the best of his enjoyment mood with a big, never-ending smile across his face. The crowd was greeting him everywhere. They were crazy to touch him at least once. And he was making them happy with his tireless handshakes and hugs, as if his life has been dedicated to this hugely gathering mass on both sides of the barricade.

His security men were insisting him not to move close to the barricade and refrain from body contacts with the people, but he was not obliging.

He was desperate to show the people his over pouring concern and overwhelming love for them.

The election is away just by a fortnight from now. The election has to be won and the power has to be recaptured. The exit poll across the country says he is in his come-back trail after remaining away from the power for almost three years.

He had been displaying his daring confidence in his entire body language.

And that’s exactly what I was looking for.

More freely he will mingle with the crowd; brighter will be my chances to make my mission a success.

My guru’s words of caution appeared in my mind once again.

‘If he ever grapples another chance to lead the country again, remember, lives of thousands of our comrades will be at a stake’.

 ‘So, let him die’.

‘Now’

‘Come on baby, come on’

‘Here is your death ambassador waiting impatiently for you’

‘Come on’

I could see his full frame clearly from my place now as I stood at the front row of the continuously swelling crowd and touching the barricade. A fair, tall, handsome man in his mid-forties, well-built with intelligent pair of eyes and sharp face. He looks great with that killer smile. A recent survey conducted by a popular monthly revealed he is one of the most favourite male icons in the country regularly been fantasized by the women.

There was phenomenal number of women inside the crowd shouting hysterically to capture glimpse of his attention and dying for the most memorable, momentary touch of him. I combined my voice with them.

Our explosive expert told me the device will work only after human to human contact is established. You can also do it for self by grasping two of your hands with each other.

I must touch him before pressing the button of the device that was perfectly wrapped around my waist.

The killer device.

I rehearsed several times in my mind the whole of the killing drill.

While cheering for him, I will extend my right hand to grab his hand and press the button at my waist by my left index finger at the very next moment.

He has arrived within a distance of 50 meters. I could see those crazy fans of him, already stretched their hands through the barricade, inside, to catch hold of his and make their lives worth forever. They were absolutely fanatic, but without a hint of what is going to happen to them in a few minutes time.

‘Come on baby, come on’

I started to develop the eye contact with him. My right hand was already stretched out for him, within the rows of hundreds of extended frenzied hands through the barricade.

‘Look at me and give your hand to mine’

I wanted him heart and soul to fix his eyes on me right at the time of his death, so never drifted my sight away from him since the time he was gradually nearing me.

A few meters behind, he was holding each one of those stretched out hands with bulging energy and enthusiasm, with his red glowing face confident of a sure-shot election victory and taking over the power once again…………..to finally jeopardize lives of thousands of our revolutionaries with his anti-revolution policy and operation.

He must be stopped.

And I will stop him right here, at the dead end of his life.

He is so close to me now, I could sense the heavy breathing of his tense security guards who were trying to cordon him as much as possible but in vain. He has already become the property of the crowd; the same crowd that have been spread over the surface of this nation to be utilized exclusively to cast vote and pay taxes.

‘Don’t care about them. If thousands of them need to be killed, don’t think twice. Revolution means bloodshed, sacrifices and more bloodshed’.

 

My restless mind momentarily brought back the memories of my long abandoned parents, family and friends, my sweet little village where I was born and grew up �" time to say good bye to all after few seconds, forever.

‘We will never, ever erase the story your sacrifice from our memory Comrade Rohini. When the rights and dignity of the poor people will be restored in this country, you will be remembered with due respect and recognition by all of us’ my guru cuddled me tight and said these last few words to me the moment I was leaving my regiment for this mission.

This is time to accomplish the mission.

Long Leave our Revolution.

 

 

He just finished one of his heartiest handshakes with the mesmerized and speechless woman next to me and about the grasp my long-awaited, hand of death.

The moment of my life has arrived. My life is going to be endowed with the real meaning of a committed revolutionary who was not deviated from her goal.

 

‘May I recite a poem for you?’ a sweet shrill and small voice struck my ears and diverted my attention completely. I did never notice this cute young girl, hardly 6- 7 years old who was somehow managed to occupy her place squeezing herself between me and the barricade and her jubilant mother peeping recklessly across my right shoulder with loosely grasping one of her arms behind from me. She held tightly her smaller kid against her bosom to protect the child from the continuously pressing crowd. The child didn’t stop crying for a second which I only realized once my attention was caught by the people around me.

He knelt down before the young girl, drew her through the gaps in the barricade to kiss affectionately on her forehead and told her, ‘Of course my little princess, let me hear your poem’

Her mother, out of sheer excitement and her small kid held tightly in her lap was constantly rubbing me hard against my back to see her daughter reciting before him.

A sense of queer apprehension completely swallowed my mind that moment.

Does sacrificing the lives of common people also mean not to spare the innocent kids?

If I press the button here, it will be matter of few seconds to transform these two lively kids into lifeless lumps of flesh and blood.

Will that enhance our revolution? Killing those kids before they enjoy the prime time of their lives?

My rock like determination was deterred by a suddenly emerged, unexpectedly compounding confusion.

When people were clapping after the recitation was over, he got up from his kneeling position, leant forward to kiss the younger kid in the mother’s lap by pushing me aside, put his hand on the head of the woman to shower his blessing on her and her children and without giving the completely perplexed me a chance to catch hold of his hand or touching his body moved forward to the rows of people waiting impatiently for him after me in the rows.

My momentary confusion took away the chance to put complete full-stop to his life.

I suddenly felt completely lost.

What should I do now?

Should I get into his place breaking through the barricade and give him the deathly hug from behind to make the explosion happen?

But it is too late. He has gone quite far off and completely within the cordon of his extremely cautious security guards.

The most notified enemy of the revolutionary groups is still alive.

The mission has been failed.

My guru told me ‘You are one of my best comrades. I am so proud to select you for this mission. I know you will never fail. You will glorify our regiment with this noble sacrifice’.

I dishonoured him. I betrayed my regiment. I am a traitor.

 

 

My dejected feet and disheartened soul brought me to a place much away from the chaotic crowd.

I looked at the surroundings with vast emptiness in my mind, clasped my both hands with each other, lowered them down to place silently my erected left thumb on the button at my waist.

My eyes remained open the moment the button was pressed.

 

 

After all, it’s my life.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Mary]

powerful story well told. Assassination is a difficult topic to write about, particularly from the assassin's perspective. You have written a very human story very very well.

[SUGATA M]

Thank you so much

[Aditi Mahajan]

This story kept me engrossed. Protagonist's self realisation touched my heart.

[Ama May Cooper]

A hard and often over looked topic, away from the norm. Very elegantly described for something so aggressive and rawr of nature. Well documented, you gain a sense of compassion for the protagonist even though his aim is very evil and dark indeed.
A great art of work , loved it

[Manpreet]

A great piece Sugata ! I am looking forward to more of your work here!

[Marie]

Very good. As I started reading this, I could tell there were words and phraases used differently than the usual I looked at the profile and saw you were from India, and that explained it. I find these differences charming.

[Leslie Philibert]

An excellent story about a real hard subject.I`ll look at this again. Great.

[Coyote Poetry]

The story was amazing. I like the way you allowed me to hear the thoughts of the man on a mission. To kill another is harder then people think. To take a life make you a killer. Same as the person you attempted to kill. I like the internal struggle and the surprise ending. Thank you for the outstanding story.
Coyote