Chapter Twenty Six - Kill the moon

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GOD of a man

Eternity Versus Eternity

 

“Goodness is like a sun; the more it burns, brighter is its’ glow.”

 

Chapter Twenty Six: Kill the moon

Dated: 24^th December, 2459

 

Jealousy corrupts mind, rendering it selectively blind. The one who suffers from this malice conveniently overlooks the facts that contradict their prejudicial opinions, and actively accentuates or even perceives non-existent facts that distort those opinions even further. Jealousy looks for excuses to justify itself! At its’ worst a jealous mind fails to realize that just because it doesn’t want to believe a certain truth, it doesn’t mean the rest of the world won’t see it, or is not intelligent enough to deduce what is happening. Sun cannot be hid behind the clouds. Eventually the clouds will either precipitate, or fly away. The Sun will however still be there, glowing relentlessly, appearing even brighter and blinding once the covers have been wiped off.

 

Goodness inside a heart is like a sun; the more life burns it, the brighter it glows. More a heart pure in love and free of malice is hurt, the better it becomes towards those whom it can touch. More a sensitive person is wronged, and extra careful are they to ensure they don’t inadvertently wrong another being. More a saintly soul is mutilated, and out of the way it goes to ease the sufferings of those it can reach out to. And goodness cannot be faked, for what is fake, doesn’t last the distance. And hearts have stencils of their own to identify true goodness.

 

The more hatred and jealousy burn the true goodness, the more reason they get to hate and be jealous of it. The more the hatred and jealousy grow, the lonelier they get. But goodness is a heart magnet that works beyond walls separating hearts. And goodness is what helps hearts tide over seas of pain. New Saisho is like an island caught in the middle of one such turbulent sea, awaiting Armageddon. The question is not who will survive and who will suffer, for all will have to suffer.

 

The overnight rain made the morning sound silent, and the nip in the air made the birds. The room was huge, consistent with the stature of the officer. A lonely ornamental fan hung above a desk which was never designed for a handshake across it. Admiral Mir was pensive as he looked at the report that lay in front of him. The uneasy calm of the room was broken by a muted but firm knock on the door.

 

“Come in,” Admiral Mir’s voice roared.

 

“Sir,” Captain Bradley Connors marched in and gave a firm salute to his senior.

 

“Take a seat Captain,” the officer ordered pointing towards a chair at the end of the table opposite him. As soon as Bradley had seated himself Admiral continued, “This is Senior Investigator Elle Wilson from the New Saisho Police, and the information she brings to us today is very concerning.” Admiral Mir Abdullah passed on the file lying in front of him towards the Captain who stood up and extend his arms to pick it up from the table. Admiral Abdullah gave him the crux of the matter, “It seems one of the army vehicles might have been involved in the commission of a very serious crime, that is, if a crime has happened. I have appointed you to assist Miss Wilson in her investigation to the limits where any army personals are involved, if they are.”

 

“Miss Wilson, I can see this case pertains to the mysterious disappearance of Reverend Luis Ferdinand from the ‘House of Faith’. What does an army vehicle or an army personal have to do with it?” Captain Bradley had a quick glance at the file.

 

“Captain, it seems like one of your vehicles had been at one of the scenes that are a part of the investigation zone,” Officer Wilson replied, “Now it could be a mere co-incidence, or a case of a stolen vehicle. We cannot say anything for certain until we have ascertained as to which vehicle was there, when and why, and who was driving that vehicle.”

 

“That should be easy,” Captain Connors replied, “All army vehicles have a tracking device attached to them, and all their movements are recorded.”

 

“Unfortunately Captain, we have no records of any of the army vehicles being there at the location at any time in recent past,” Admiral Abdullah answered his question, “And that is why I have deputed you for the job. The vehicle identified from the track marks is of a make made specifically and only for the army. Nobody outside the army ever gets to buy or use any of our vehicles. These vehicles roll out of the factory straight to the army units, and are decommissioned only for scrapping and recycling at the end of their lives.”

 

“So it is one of our off-duty four wheel drives,” Captain Connors said as he checked the suspected identity of the vehicle.

 

“Find the rotten egg Captain,” Admiral quipped, “Do what you may need to, but I want this man alive.” The Admiral then looked at Elle, “Miss Wilson, Captain will see you in the lobby.”

 

“Thanks for your help Sir,” Elle immediately collected her stuff and excused herself. The Admiral nodded in acknowledgement.

 

Once Elle had left the room Admiral got up from his chair and walked around the table towards his ward who stood up in attention. “At ease Captain,” Admiral said as he put his hand on his man’s shoulder, “I don’t know what words would be right for a man to say to a man, about the loss of another man. All I can say is, Rear Admiral was not only my best friend, but he was a General par excellence. Outside my personal loss of the only true friend I had, it will be hard to find a man to replace him.”

 

“He is irreplaceable for me Sir,” Captain replied.

 

Admiral took a heavy breath, then turned around and walked away towards the window behind the table. There was a melancholy in the silence that ensued for the next few moments. Finally the Admiral said but one word as he stood gazing far out of the window, his hands held firmly behind his back, “Dismiss!”

 

“Sir,” the Captain gave his senior the ceremonial salute and marched out of the room.

 

Can love actually be classified as an emotion? Is it really about a single pair of contradictory feelings, that is, either you love someone, or you don’t love them? What about the loneliness that comes with love when the one you love is not in front of your eyes, or in close physical proximity? What about the possessiveness that comes with it when the one you love is right there with you? What about the jealousy that arises out of it when the one you love is in proximity of a potential competition? What about the fear for the well being of the one you love when they are neither in proximity, and nor in contact with you? Love is the most intense and draining experience a heart can go through. It saps everything out of the being it afflicts!

 

The door knob was still the same, and so was the key hole, but the door they operated upon had no surprises behind it to interest Jenny. She wasn’t with herself today! She missed Aman, more so after the incident that happened the other day, concerning Reverend Ferdinand. There was no one she wanted to share the fears and pains of her tender heard with except the one who wasn’t there when she needed him. She hadn’t been herself even during the classes with the kids at the ‘House of Faith’ that she always otherwise enjoyed. She stood there motionless, her head held down as she stared blankly at the key hole. She let her frame incline against the door as she slowly, almost reluctantly, put her hand in her purse to pull out the house key. She just didn’t want to be there, alone and lonely. But there was no place else she wanted to go either. She just wanted to be with the only man she cared about on the earth. Uninterestedly her hand went through her stuff in the purse, only to stop dejected, “Damn, I must have forgotten them back at the ‘House of Faith’.”

 

While love is inherently childish, sensitivity is overbearingly mature. Love gives the impetuosity to feelings, makes actions carefree, and life full of hope. Sensitivity on the other hand checks emotional displays, quantizes actions, and brings caution in approach. Sensitivity helps one see the view from the other side of the fence.

 

The evening was creeping up the fences and walls. The loneliness inside the heart was scary. But with nowhere to run away from self Mrs Ahluwalia stared blankly at the wall in front as Rosie finished the drawing her teacher had given her for homework. The phone ring was scary.

 

Mrs Ahluwalia looked at the display and knew where the phone was coming from. It was as if she didn’t want to pick up the phone which was lying right in front of her on the centre table.

 

“Mom, the phone is ringing,” Rosie said, almost as a complaint for it was disturbing her concentration.

 

Mrs Ahluwalia finally gathered the courage to pick up the phone and answered it, “Hello!”

 

There was a brief silence at the other end which made it possible to hear the heavy breathing of the caller. Mrs Ahluwalia also sat silently. Finally the caller spoke, “Mom, I’ll be there in three days.” Mrs Ahluwalia’s face fragmented in an instant as she broke into muted crying. “Mom, please don’t cry! You are a wife to a hero who’s finally got a chance to rest his old weary frame. So please don’t!”

 

“Just come home,” Mrs Ahluwalia laboured to whisper a few words.

 

“We have finished our task and we are on our way back to New Saisho,” Aman replied, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

“Can I ask you one thing?” Mrs Ahluwalia was worried about something, “You won’t get mad at Brad, it’s not his fault?”

 

Aman took a heavy sigh, “Mom, getting mad at anyone would be an insult to my father’s sacrifice and bravery. Blaming someone else for his martyrdom will take the sheen off his act. It would appear as if my father didn’t lay down his life in line of duty, but was rather killed in an accident due to someone else’s error. How can I be so disrespectful to my father, to rob him of his glory, and discredit another man who possibly had no choice?”

 

“So you are not angry with him?” Mrs Ahluwalia wanted to be completely assured, “You have never got along with him, even though he has always been a brother to you.”

 

“Mom,” Aman replied, “Grace is the anger which tells those who hurt you, how much they have hurt you, without hurting them.”

 

“But how has he done any wrong to you,” Mrs Ahluwalia had never been able to comprehend why there was so much distance between the two brothers.

 

“It’s not about doing wrong to anyone,” Aman replied, a bit indignantly, “He took from me what belonged to me. I have to share you with him, when I didn’t have to. I always felt that he took a better share of your and father’s love and attention.”

 

“That is not true! You know it,” Mrs Ahluwalia retorted back, “You just never accepted him as a part of our family, as your brother.”

 

“I didn’t have to mom! And that’s the point,” Aman retorted back.

 

“When will you grow up?” Mrs Ahluwalia asked incensed.

 

“I have mom,” Aman replied, “I realize now that I was over possessive about you and father, but the dye has already been cast. There will always be this uncomfortable distance between me and him. It’s not about growing up or being right or wrong anymore. It is just the way things stand now!”

 

There can be no rigid stencil to judge an act as right or wrong, for right or wrong are determined by the definitions prevalent in a society at a given time. However while acts get recorded in history forever, the definitions are often modified beyond recognition in time. They keep evolving with the social intellect and understanding, and what might have been considered wrong at a certain time in a society, might become the yardstick of perfect in another. Traits like greed and lust however remain consistent in a society. And it is these traits that motivate an individual to act contrary to the interests of the society.

 

The translucency of bricks and mortar might have perfectly quarantined the lit interiors from the darkness that had engulfed the building, but the shadows growing out of the four pairs of feet were huge enough to darken the creamy white walls of the ‘House of Faith’. The sky had the moon in custody, and the house was entertaining dacoits.

 

“Viper Sergeant you don’t understand,” Granger could be heard addressing his company, “Ordinary people are born to live like slaves. They don’t have an opinion of their own; and if they do, they don’t have the confidence to believe in it. They need someone else to tell them what is right and what they need to do. They need someone to make a decision for them, give them a bunch of choices but still make the pick for them. They are happy to work their entire lives and live on paltry sum as long as the major risk is taken by someone else. All they want is an easy life where the only thing they have to worry about is their own small world; their family. They always want someone else to take care of their societies. They don’t want responsibility. In fact, they even want to put the responsibility of their own actions and lives on somebody else. And that’s where GOD comes in. Someone who can be credited with everything good that happens in one’s life, and someone who could be blamed for everything bad, someone no one has ever seen, or ever will, for to see him one need to die, and dead never return to tell tales.”

 

“I have an easier solution,” Sergeant Rawdon “Viper” Douglas replied pulling out his gun and flashing it like a sword, “Universal remote control for everyone.”

 

“That’s what the first strong men of humanity believed too, except that in those times they had spears, maces and swords instead of guns,” Granger replied, “But my dear friend, just like them even you need to understand one thing; you cannot kill everyone, for you will still need people to work for you. If you kill everyone, you will be the only one left to do everything.”

 

“Oh no, you don’t understand,” Viper replied, “You don’t need to kill everyone, but just a few weaklings, and the rest will obey your command.”

 

“Yes they will,” Granger nodded before adding, “But as soon as they will have an answer to the gun, the one holding the gun would be the first one to depart. Human history is replete with rebellious examples.”

 

“Well, if you live by the sword then you die by the sword too,” Viper said as he scratched his cheek with the muzzle of his pistol.

 

“Not if the one with a sword is a friend with the one with a book,” Granger replied with a wily smile, “Religion and power complement each other. How do you think the ruling dynasties world over maintained their hold upon the thrones for centuries?”

 

“How,” Viper asked with an exaggerated grin.

 

“Simple my dear friend,” Granger answered, “The so called saints and priests of the society propagated superstition amongst masses, creating fear in their hearts of someone unknown but more powerful than the mighty kings and generals ruling them; the GOD. Kings were declared representatives of GOD by those priests, and they ruled in the name of GOD until Democracy diluted such superstitious beliefs beyond recognition. And kings repaid the religious sects by giving them protection and credibility in public eye. This replaced the need of force to keep the population under control, and societies worked smoothly under the influence of belief. The kings ruled with sword, and religious leaders ruled with brain. But did Democracy destroy humanity’s belief in GOD? No! Humanity just conveniently refused to accept kings and queens as representatives of GOD anymore, rather than questioning His existence. They didn’t need to fear GOD for this new belief, that’s how convenient the truth about GOD has been to humanity.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Private Dean ‘Slipknot’ Baser scratched his head trying to make some sense out of the discussion, “How does this talk about GOD relate to us.” He looked at Viper, who starred back surprised at his man’s unexpected question.

 

“Simple my dear friend,” Norman decided to answer him on this occasion, “If you help us develop a superstition base in the society, we can utilize our platform to legitimize your actions, and also make people obedient to your command.”

 

“And how can we help you?” Slipknot asked.

 

“You already have partly, by taking out the old man Ferdinand,” Granger replied, “Now if you could only take out that bitch Jenny, we will take care of the rest.”

 

Viper wanted to say something but his words were left hanging in his mouth by a ringing phone. Jenny’s presence behind the slightly open side door to the main hall had been exposed. It was a call from Mrs Ahluwalia that had caught her at the wrong time.

 

“Who’s it?” Viper immediately jumped on to his feet. Jenny froze out of fear. “I said who is it? Reveal yourself or I will shoot,” Viper roared again, his gun pointing towards the door as he quickly rushed towards the door, Private Slipknot close behind him.

 

Jenny shrieked out in fear as she got her control back. “That’s Jenny! Damn, she heard everything we were talking about,” Granger freaked out.

 

“You draft an obituary, I’ll get the body,” Viper said as he rushed towards the door.

 

Jenny meanwhile had made a quick dash back towards her car, unlocking and starting it with her remote control keys. She jumped into the car and locked the doors in a flash as Viper and Slipknot emerged out of the ‘House of Faith’. But electric cars are quick to get rolling, and before they knew Jenny was already turning out of the parking area and onto the road.

 

Viper wanted to take a shot but then changed his mind. He turned towards Slipknot and said, “Don’t let her get away! I am coming right behind you.”

 

Slipknot nodded and rushed towards his vehicle as Viper ran inside where he advised Granger and Norman, “Get your selves’ an alibi.”

 

“How,” the two asked almost in unison.

 

“Just take him to the hospital,” Viper said pointing towards Granger.

 

“For what,” Norman asked.

 

“Hit him in his head, his groin, or just say he is pregnant, or whatever you need to, but get him to a hospital,” Viper said as he turned around to leave in pursuit of Jenny, “I have to go.”

 

Jenny meanwhile was speeding towards the town as fast as her electric car would go. Too bad it was no match for the big fossil fed engine in hot pursuit.

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