Ria Diaries Episode 5: Blown to shreds

Was it worth it, the TV interview? I am not sure that was a good idea as I
am still thinking about it, what happens when people know who I am and
what I do. Well, I will cross that bridge when I come to it, let’s see what
happens next.
After ghosts, drugs and murder mysteries I hope exciting things are in line
for me.
Mumma are you home? You there, where are you? I was so hungry, hardly
eaten anything since we left for the studio to give the interview. There you are,
mom, so how was your day? I asked mom, clearly seeing panic, anger and
horror written on her face. After talking for a few minutes suddenly uncle
called, another mystery has come up.

As soon as I reached, the station uncle briefed me about an old case where
they have never found the killer, he went missing but recently him and Mr.
Bakshi caught that bastard but what was most astonishing was his
confession. Wow, uncle, you know I love the honesty out of a criminal’s
mouth, let’s start then.
Ok then Ria, you are in for a treat today, see what goes down today. Uncle
left to interrogate the man, named Kishan. I am describing everything upon
the fact which I heard him say, so here it goes-
I didn’t want to blow up the hospital. It wasn’t like I was someone with a
grudge who lost a son or wife or a nut job with a political agenda. I hate
people. They bore me. I can find more interest in a cactus. Just let me have
my shitty job in the cemetery and my shitty apartment where I eat my shitty
food and I’m fine. Some people would not be satisfied with this life, but
when you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you might change your tune.
Regardless, the hospital never once crossed my mind, until they appeared
outside my window.

If you’d see them you’d understand. When you’re a guy who has no friends,
no family and a night of strolling through a graveyard in the pitch dark to

look forward to, the little things make you happy. When I first saw them it
was with a passing glance. As each day progressed, those glances turned
to glares. At the time I had no idea why. I just felt compelled to know her.
So I decided to try jogging. I got on the path at the same time as her,
pumping my flabby legs and arms.
“Sneha Mehra,” she would say, in between measured breaths.

“Oh, nice to meet you, I’m…” I would start before my lungs began to claw
for more oxygen and she would leave me behind. I could never match her
pace. Perhaps the names were enough.
She came down the path every morning around 5:40, while there’s still
mist coming off the ground as the dawn dew evaporates. It’s a
matchmaker’s dream, like watching two comets streak across the night sky.
She wears bright colours, ranging from pink, yellow to turquoise, and cream.
At this point, my perfect morning is interrupted when Sneha disappears
behind the hospital, as suddenly out of nowhere she got hit by a moving
car. I mean who drives cars at 5 in morning. What a crap building. Built a
few years ago, it is nothing but a tan concrete wart featuring bright windows
and automatic doors that needed to be cauterized. Either I had to move or
that hospital did. The decision was easy.

If you asked me then how I got myself to the point of what most would say
is terrorism, I couldn’t have said. Now, looking back, I think it started when I
was six. All those hot days in the factory yards playing with friends in the
abandoned warehouses was my first escape. We played hide and seek.
We smashed old windows. I even kissed my first girl in there. One day we
were heading back to go exploring when we saw bulldozers rampaging
across the yard. The old tin sidings were no match for the rugged scythe-
like scoops as they cut their way through. Our playground was falling away.
You could say my love for destruction began that day.

Sneha changed that.

Thus, in honour of her, I created something called the “Sneha Cocktail.” I
wish you could smell it. Picture a pan of fresh lasagna steaming on your
kitchen table, then pour at least a gallon of gasoline on it. A witch’s brew of
hydrochloric acid, black powder, nitro, and uranium. Now wouldn’t that be
something, from early days I was brilliant in chemistry and I always wanted
to do something in this field but fate changed my course and look where I
am today, rotting in the jail cell so disgusting. I heaved a sigh, at the narcissism
of this man.

After visiting her every day in hospital our relationship grew but ultimately
her body couldn’t take it anymore and finally gave out from severe injuries,
after struggling for 26 days. I was very much angry at the doctors were
totally useless and didn’t treat her in right way. All I heard was the car
which hit her was of some politician’s son, so they covered the whole thing
with money and made it disappear like it never happened. But it did and I
remembered everything.
I cannot bring back those who are already gone. But I can give you
something to ease the pain, I said, feeling the burden start to lift. My eyes
began to get hot.

I blew up the hospital!

At first the reaction of the people in front my house- was stunned silence,
as if they thought I was playing a cruel joke. A few whispers started, then
several shouts. Those shouts brought out raised fists and suddenly the
crowd began to believe what I told them. Perhaps it was my look more than
my confession, but a little faith didn’t hurt. Regardless, as they began to
work up their primal fury in a rage of frothing mouths, I felt the pocket of my
coveralls, feeling the hard rims of the 3D glasses for the last time. Hands
began to close in around me, tearing at my clothes and hair. As they threw
me to the ground and shouted their pain through nonstop kicks and stomps
to my body, I finally felt moisture surface in the crease of my eyes. It wasn’t

much, but it was enough to make up for all the times I missed. My soul had
come back, and now it would take me home. As hundreds of fists and feet
thundered into my body, robbing me of breath but granting me more tears, I

Maybe Sneha would be waiting for me.

Probably not.

And then finally you caught me from the mob, after several years of running
and trying to locate the politician, I finally stopped because now I know his
name and I am going to destroy him. I am safe inside the cell rather than
outside it, he will kill me when he locates me as I killed his son….

“Woah, Uncle that was too much information to get in 30 minutes”, I told uncle as
soon as he came out. Ria this man is really important, as he knows the
name of the man we have been searching for, maybe the drug overlord and
this politician are the same. Yes uncle exactly my thought, I figured it out as
soon as he confessed.
Now we have to find him, our ultimate criminal waiting for us to catch him in

Somewhere Else

“Sir Kishan got arrested today, as you instructed me to do”
“Transfer Mr Bakshi someplace else, a far place where he can never see
the light.”

Well done Ria, you caught the man I was looking for, you made things
easier for me to give him his much-needed rest. Now it’s time for us to

Ria Diaries…

Episode 4 is of a weekly detective series initiative by me- Pia Majumdar and Ushnish the Crown. Stay put for the next one…Cause what seems to be obvious, may not be that easy…

Here are the links to previous parts-

Ria Diaries Episode 3: The Haunted Warehouse Part 1

Ria Diaries Episode 4: The Haunted Warehouse Part 2


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