Prologue

The beginning

The minister (name withheld to avoid politicizing my story) was used to being encircled by chaotic clusters of inquisitive human beings armed with bulky cameras, and microphones. Their outraged inquiries… the chimes of democracy, as enshrined in satellites and idiot boxes. They were empowered to brew a concern epidemic out of his spontaneous impressions. He had to be cautious. But he had mastered the art of wading through this wall, selectively answering to them… cleverly evading them. He was into penetrating these castles of public interrogation.

Presently there was a crisis in the nation, and he was evidently blamed. He was corrupt, and exposed. And he had infuriated the mass. Flashes, screams… the surrounding menagerie was vital, as always.

 

In an almost sinister intonation, a question was heard, distinct despite the pandemonium… “Are you ready for the worst, sir?”! Everyone heard it… so did the minister. He was taken aback for a moment. His stupefaction was either short lived or eternal. Because before anyone could flinch to turn to the speaker, the minister collapsed. It was instantaneous! Before he could make a cinematic impact, his attendants had pounced upon him, held him. In this collective embrace, amidst the further frenzied horde… the minister died. About three seconds later, as if this wasn’t surprising enough… all the cameras exploded. All of them. Six cameramen were killed. One reporter was killed. The other ten were injured… with some incurable damages.