In a nightclub, a mafia's son, Luke Landon and another guy get into an ugly fight. The club bouncer, Caleb Lepski, intervenes and he is badly beaten up by Luke. It becomes serious between the two of them and Luke points a gun at Lepski.
Luke's girlfriend, Natasha tries to stop him. However when he fires, instead of Lepski, his Natasha gets killed. There are loud cries and the entire place is in a havoc. Somebody sets off the alarm.
Luke is in a rage and snakes of anger slither through his body. He becomes vindictive and is deeply frustrated at the sight of the dead body of his beloved. Obviously both fury and guilt are biting him at the same time.
Caleb Lepski is told by the owner of the nightclub to go undercover, till the matter dies down. A corrupt police officer who is on Luke's side, tells him to take his police car and go on the run, anticipating the police force to show up any minute. Before he chickens out, Luke swears to kill the bouncer and burn down the nightclub.
Ten months later......
Luke looked all around him and winced. The stinking odor of stale cigarettes filled the room which was a dash bigger than a match box. Cobwebs hung from every nook and corner. Sunlight filtered in through the small broken window. When he peered outside, he could see the parched leaves lay scattered along the ground, giving the scene more colour than he wished in the midst of his misery.
The fan above was only making creaking sound without giving any breeze. It was irritating to the hilt and his hands were all the time wiping the dripping sweat with his already dirty, smelly shirt.
Luke had been lurking in this awful place for the past one week. His body strength was wearing out and he was feeling particularly lackadaisical. He couldn't remember last when he had gulped anything called food. Lying on the bed, he raised his torso and could see half a bottle of malt whiskey in the far corner on the floor. He wanted it but didn't have the strength to go till there.
Dropping his head back on the pillow, he closed his eyes. He saw Natasha's smiling face and twinkling eyes. He thought of the pleasure he used to have with her. He flinched the very next minute. A shudder spiralled through him thinking that he had shot her himself. Guilt was still riding on his back.
The only satisfying thought was that at least he was able to keep half the promise of his vengeance. Six days after the scrimmage, he had burnt down the nightclub. He had gone after Caleb Lepski, but hadn't found him still.
He was tired of running. He had been running for months. Money had dried up long back and what pieces of jewelry he had on him, were all now gone. From what bits and pieces he had heard, his father had surrendered and the syndicate had crashed. There was nowhere to go back to.
A greedy staff boy, of this dungeon like motel had leaked his foxhole to the cops. He was sure the wait was going to be short lived. They would be here any minute now.
He took a deep frustrated sigh. His favourite obsession - life, was slipping out of his hands. Heaving a ragged sigh once again, he resigned to the notion that he'd had his fill of running and hiding. He looked at his gun on the side table. It only had one bullet.
Should he finish his life here and now or wait for the police to come and take him? The latter option was more tempting. At least he'll be fed behind the bars. He smirked ruminating. Let the government spend some money on him. People will have something interesting to read in the papers for a few weeks, and if he was lucky, may be for a few months. And until his reprieve, he could relish thoughts of Natasha.
Strenuously Luke lifted his hopeless body and dragged his aching legs to where the bottle lay. He dawdled back to the bed and savoured the drink sip by sip.
There was no hurry to go anywhere. Time of retribution and retaliation was over. Strangely enough, he was feeling peaceful after a long time.
This was the beginning of his end.
Shamim Merchant, Mumbai.____________________________
Shades of Simplicity
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