PROLOGUE

Before the beginning of the story.

January 10, 2010. New Delhi.

Being Sunday, the usually busy buildings of the Central Ministerial Offices are scarce of people. Despite Spring, the afternoon sun is unbearably hot, hinting indirectly about the upcoming Summer.

"Strange!" The entrance security guards thought.

They were just ordered not to stop a particular car for security check up and this order came directly from the way higher ups.

Soon after that order, a lavishly polished, sleek looking, ivory white Sedan noiselessly vroomed past the security entrance! After going straight for some distance, it took a right turn and smoothly halted in front of what appears to be a recently painted building named as the East Wing.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, a security guard posted at the entrance of the East Wing, came running and opened the back car door.

From the vehicle, a young man in his early thirties, undoubtedly of Chinese origin, emerged. He has a slender yet strong frame and is almost six and half feet tall.

He winced as he immediately felt the searingly hot wind passing over his face and neck and hastily entered the air conditioned building.

Meanwhile his host, popularly called as Daddy ji in his social circles, a silvery grey haired octagenarian with an obese body draped under a moderately cut wheatish coloured bandh gala, was tapping impatiently over his desk.

His visitor is late by half an hour. It is way past his usual lunch time but this meeting is more important for him than anything else.

Moments later, the visitor entered the room with folded hands and a big smile all over his face.

"Namaste Daddy ji!" He wished gleefully.

The old man forced himself a smile all the while eyeing him up and down.

"Look at you. Dressed like that. I can never help myself from not thinking that you might be an enemy spy!"

Dressed in a navy blue suit and tie, with a crew cut and a heavy jaw line, the visitor known himself as The Chinaman, pulled the empty chair in front of him and sat comfortably, all the while maintaining the same cheerful face.

"You were late!" The old man muttered, restraining himself from showing any impatience.

The Chinaman lifted his palms up, "Blame the Sunday traffic Daddy ji, I started on time!" and lamented apologetically.

Daddy ji gestured him an "it's all right" and lifted the receiver over the intercom phone placed on the desk in front of him. He dialed a button and a moment later spoke, "We are not at all to be disturbed for an hour. Do you understand?" and placed the receiver back.

"Is everything safe?" The Chinaman asked nonchalantly.

"Oh yes! Yes. Absolutely! I have double checked and triple checked this entire room for any kind of bugs as well as the corridor and lobby and what not, even this entire East Wing! I guarantee you that we are hundred percent safe!" boomed Daddy ji's voice with a sense of pride and confirmation.

"You bet?!"

The Chinaman restrained himself from laughing out loud. The pen camera, placed snuggly in his breast pocket already started recording everything in HD, from the moment he entered the room.

"Anyway I shall start now, we are already getting late." The Chinaman stated it as a matter of fact.

Fighting back his pangs of hunger, Daddy ji leaned forward in his chair for the most important meeting of his life.

"This is it. For a greater good."

As The Chinaman started unfolding his plans, Daddy ji experienced a myriad of emotions ranging from utter bewilderment to absolute fear.

"This is big! Bigger than I thought and dangerous too!" 

At the same time he couldn't help himself from marvelling about how meticulously the plans were arranged.

"They are well ahead of the schedule!" 

"Well…to conclude, the latest incident in the Salaba village of Orissa is in fact, our work only!" whispered The Chinaman with a grin over his face.

Daddy ji was speechless. He started recollecting it.

"The Salaba Mystery!" 

A month ago, Salaba, a small border village with a population of a hundred and fifty people, located in the southern part of the state of Orissa, became the talk of the nation!

In a single night, all the villagers died mysteriously!

Entire families of men, women and children have lost their lives in their sleep!

The neighbouring villagers discovered this in the next day morning and immediately informed the local authorities.

However, this incident triggered a massive wave of mass hysteria in the people of the neighbouring villages, thinking that a mysterious disease has engulfed the villages!

They started exiling to nearby towns, but were promptly resisted by the people and authorities of the towns to check the spread of the infection, if any. It was a total chaos!

The district authorities were completely clueless about what to do and how to do. By afternoon, the news has spread like a wild fire through out the state. The State Government is under fire not only from the opposition but also from the Centre.

By evening, the village was completely barricaded from the neighbouring villages by the Police and Municipal authorities and was officially declared a quarantined zone.

For media, it was a fuel for sensation! The national channels had already surrounded the borders of the village and started telecasting the incident as one of the biggest mysteries in the recent times and soon the entire nation became focused on this mysterious village tragedy.

 

The next day, Central Government officials, Scientists and Professionals from various health care sectors, hailing from various parts of the country, have flown to the village. On site autopsies were conducted.

Strangely, there were neither any injuries nor signs of any infectious disease! This deepened the mystery further. Blood and Organ samples were immediately sent to prominent National Laboratories for further investigations.

However, at the end of the day, no satisfactory conclusion nor a scientific reason was attributed to the disaster.

Meanwhile, the neighbouring village people resorted to various sorts of rituals. Suddenly, the local faith healers and so-called black magic wizards and witches were became so much in demand. They confirmed that Salaba is in fact cursed and the curse may spread to other villages.

By the third day, the post mortem studies and lab reports came and they revealed that the deaths were due to a natural cause! This inturn created a huge uproar in the Political as well as Public circles and led to doubt the credibility of the nation's top forensics and investigative institutuions.

Soon the Internet is filled with various conspiracy theories ranging from a thousand year old curse to Alien visitations!

As the days passed the sensation slowly died away, the public and the Government gradually forgot about the tragedy and moved on.

However, the Salaba incident remained as 'The Salaba Mystery' in the hearts of conspiracy buffs.

"That was you!" Daddy ji did nothing to conceal the downright astonishment over his face.

The Chinaman could not help but chuckle on seeing the childish expression of Daddy ji.

"A correction. That was us!" He said.

"Soon, the phase two of our Project is about to begin and we shall meet once again when everything is perfectly sorted out. Ok?"

The Chinaman spoke assuredly while rising from the chair and extending his arm. They shook their hands for a few seconds, nodded to each other and the visitor left the room. Soon, the ivory white Sedan exited the building complex.

The same day, Hyderabad.

 

Jhansi Lakshmi Bai, always appeared much younger than her actual age. Thanks to her strict fitness and diet regime, only a few people who are very close to her know that she is in her early fifties!

After completing her weekly grocery shopping in the supermarket, she was busy stuffing the whole purchases in a big plastic cover.

"Ahem. Madam do you need an extra cover?" Mumbled the salesgirl at the billing counter, eyeing her struggle.

"No." Jhansi said sternly.

"I don't want to waste money on plastic anymore." She thought.

Drawing a huge puff of air into her lungs, she started carrying the bag with one hand and started walking towards the exit.

"God! Is it heavy or am I getting old?"

Decided to carry the bag with both the hands, she hugged the bag to her bosom and carefully treaded down the steps. Her car was parked on the opposite side of the road.

Glancing both the directions for a moment, she started to cross the road. The double lane road was divided in the middle by a foot height, alternatively painted yellow and black coloured cement divider.

The traffic was less than usual at that time. After walking half the distance, she crossed over the cement divider and once again checked the left and right before crossing.

The traffic on the road was almost negligible. An auto-rickshaw here and a bike there. Usually it would take just a few seconds to cross the road and reach her car. At least that's what she told herself.

Just as she crossed the cement divider and started walking towards her car, the bike which seemed very far away only moments ago, accelerated tremendously and came very close to her!

Jhansi was stunned by the speed with which the bike was nearing her. She promptly stopped on her tracks and was eyeing the direction of the bike coming straight towards her. She anticipated that if she stood motionlessly, the bike would go either in front of her or from the back of her, as she was exactly in the middle of the road.

Judging by the turn of the bike's front wheel, she assumed that the bike was going in front of her, all the while maintaining her stance. However, despite enough road and no traffic, the bike came so close to her.

Jhansi's heart skipped a beat! She was so engulfed by the fear that not even a single sound came from her mouth.

Even before she could react and step backwards, the bike's front wheel crushed both her toes and then the biker did the unthinkable!

As the bike came dangerously close to Jhansi, the biker held his leg and kicked her in one swift motion!

Jhansi felt a sharp blow to her stomach and before she could comprehend it, she felt her body lashed backwards and the last thing she remembered is her head hitting the divider.

" Is this the end?"

It was all happened in matter of seconds. The bike sped past Jhansi. Her grocery bag flew high in the air for a second and then torn as soon as it hits the road scattering all the items inside it over the road.

Soon, the other pedestrians and road side shop keepers realized what had just happened in front of them and started gathering around the unconscious woman.

While most of the people were just gathered for spectating, some of them tended to her injuries and also called for an ambulance.

Meanwhile, not so far from the accident site, two persons, who were sitting inside a parked car and were watching the entire incident from the beginning were conversing with each other.

"Is this your plan of a hit and run, Boss? A bike? Are you serious?! A lorry would be a better option. In fact, we don't know if she is dead yet." chided the second guy, irritably.

The Boss was silent for a moment and spoke, "Well. She wouldn't be troubling us anytime soon. You see, there is no need to kill her! In fact, I always liked her."  in a calm and composed manner.

The second guy let out a deep sigh.

"You know Boss, I am sorry to say this but this attitude of yours might bring us trouble, much worse than we'd ever expect, sooner or later."

The Boss chuckled but stayed silent, as if he was contemplating the incident that happened in front of them.

Finally he spoke, "Anyway our work here is done. Remind me to buy a flower bouquet for her before visiting her in the hospital this evening." and started the car.

Reviews

[JayG]

Well, you did ask for this… 😛

• Being Sunday, the usually busy buildings of the Central Ministerial Offices are scarce of people. Despite Spring, the afternoon sun is unbearably hot, hinting indirectly about the upcoming Summer.

What you’re doing is taking the role of storyteller, as you would were you telling the story in person. That can work in person because you’re providing a performance, one that illustrates the emotion that's connected to the words. Your voice changes intensity and cadence as the story changes, to provide, and illustrate, the emotion in the story.

Small hesitations, and strategically placed breaths are part of the performance. A frown, or the raise of an eyebrow are meaningful and add to that emotion, as do gesture and body language. But how much of that makes it to the page? Not a trace…except for when YOU read. Then, it’s all there and the story lives. But because you know the situation before you read the first word, and know what the words WILL say, the emotion, and your vocal performance, do exactly what you intend them to do. But what about the reader? Your intent doesn’t make it to the page. And the reader doesn’t know what the words WILL say. So how can the voice they hear as they read match yours? That’s why the tricks of verbal storytelling can’t work on the page—why writing fiction has a very different methodology, enforced by the limitations, and strengths, of our medium. Have the computer read the story aloud and you'll hear how different what the reader gets is from what you get.

This isn't what you were hoping to hear, I know, given how hard you’ve worked on this. But it is a problem you share with almost all hopeful writers, including me when I turned to writing my own stories.

• "Strange!" The entrance security guards thought.

Here, you place effect, the thought, before the cause, which is the order, which deprives the reader of context. Think of the way one of those guards live. First, he gets the order. Then he frowns and has that thought. Can the story seem real if you talk about the frown before the cause of it?

• They were just ordered not to stop a particular car for security check up and this order came directly from the way higher ups.

Here, you’re treating a group of guards as one person. Did they all think it was strange at the same time, in the same way? Didn't one of them simply accept the order? Be careful not to have groups of people behave as one person.

The problem is that you’re providing a synopsis, not making the reader live the story. Telling, when you could be showing. But are readers looking to know what happened in the scene? No. They want to be made to live it, as the most meaningful character in that scene. They're seeking entertainment, not explanation

Think about yourself when reading. Assume you’re reading a horror story and the character is in a dimly lit room. Do you want the author to tell you of the protagonist’s terror? Or do you want that writer to make YOU afraid to turn out the light? In other words, are you seeking information or to be made to feel emotion?

See my point? Someone explaining and reporting—summing up the actions in the story can only inform. But only by making the reader live the story in real-time, and know the situation as the protagonist does, can we entertain them, and make them feel that they ARE the protagonist. So...how much time did your teachers spend on how to do that? How much on the elements of a scene and how it differs on the page from on stage and screen? I’m guessing the answer is none, because the purpose of our schooling was to ready us for employment. And how many employers want us to write fiction?

Bad news? Certainly. But it’s something we all face on the path to publication, even if it almost always comes as a surprise. So it’s an annoyance rather than a disaster. And of more importance, it’s fixable. There are endless books on fiction writing techniques to help you upgrade your current skill-set. The Internet abounds with articles, and the views of successful authors and publishing pros. My own writing blog was meant to give an overview of the issues involved, for example.

My personal favorite for picking up the nuts-and-bolts issues of fiction is Dwight Swain’s, Techniques of the Selling Writer, but there are many others worth your time. And as you read them you’ll find yourself asking, “Why didn’t I see that for myself?” Like any field, ours is filled with things that tend to be invisible till pointed out.

So dig in. If you are truly meant to be a writer you’ll find the learning fun, like going backstage at the theater.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.

Jay Greenstein
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

[aarpee1234]

Thank you.

[¿]

Hmm...now what shall I say...um, had gone mum for a while!

Anyway....the Jhansi Bai's small and samll biopic was a good read...I enjoyed the last...what actually happens in Bollywood films at the first scenes or just before intervals sometimes..

Thanks for sharing☺!

[aarpee1234]

Thank you.

[¿]

Wc😊....!!!