Bang bang, my baby shot me…

It was a warm Sunday afternoon as Pankaj lay on his bed reading. He was reading the first book from the Harry Potter series. Though it was a little late to be reading the first book, now that the entire series was almost coming to an end, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be lost in a world of fantasy and mystery, a world away from his day-to-day happenings of work and life.

The only sound in his room was that of the ceiling fan. It was a slight swooshing sound coupled with the blades cutting through the air. The bed creaked a little under his shifting weight but there was nothing in the room that could alarm him. The curtain moved slightly because of the air circulated by the fan but no noise. Pankaj seemed content lying there in his bed, spending a nice warm afternoon. Suddenly there was a loud gunshot, a loud noise breaking through the silence of the afternoon.

Pankaj rushed out to the balcony to see what had happened. Outside, nothing seemed unusual. He looked around to catch a glimpse of any shouts, any crowds gathering anywhere. But nothing, there was not even a trace of any oddity around. He turned around and returned to his bed, slowly, thoughtfully. “It’s impossible” he thought. He had heard the bang but couldn’t figure out where the sound had come from. He was sure he wasn’t dreaming. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window at the vast expanse of the blue sky. His small but comfortable apartment was located on the 7th floor of a high rise, on the edge of the city. As he sat there, he wondered where the sound had come from, what could’ve happened, who could have fired the shots, who could’ve dared such a felony in the middle of a holiday. He picked up the book again after a while and got back to the page that he had marked out.

Though his eyes had returned to the book, his mind was still reeling in the tearing rapport that he had just heard. How come no one hear it, how could no raise an alarm to warn others, was he dreaming, this couldn’t be true, he was sure he had heard the noise. He held the book tightly between his thumb and the index finger, trying hard to convince himself that he was awake and not dreaming.

As he sat there with the book in his hands, his mind went back to the previous night. He had come back after having dinner with Ajit. It was a smooth evening, just him and Ajit, out for a round of beer and some nice chicken biryani at the new restaurant that had opened close by. Pankaj’s roommate, Manish, had gone home for the weekend and would be returning only by Monday morning. He had entered the house and realized that he hadn’t left any of the lights on while leaving. The house was in pitch darkness. He walked close to the walls, groping about to find the light switch. “Here it is” he thought as he finally touched the switch and flicked it on. The light from the tube illuminated everything. Suddenly he smelt a sweet fragrance through the whole house. He was sure that he hadn’t left a perfume bottle open or something. He looked around the large empty house to see if there was something in sight, but nothing. He took off his shoes near the entrance to the house as he usually did. There was a display rack attached to the wall joining the entrance to the house. One could see this display case as one walked in and faced to the right. There was a small wooden couch, stripped off its cushions, pushed up against the L-shaped wall beside the display case. He put away his shoes and walked across the length of the hall, occasionally looking behind him, as if to find someone there, following him. He crossed Manish’s room to his right and went on to the door to his own room. He could feel something in the moist air of the house. A strange chill ran down his spine as he wondered what could be causing the fragrance. As he approached the door to his room, he felt the fragrance becoming stronger. He fought hard within him to convince himself that there was nothing in the house, more so, in his own room. The door to his room was slightly ajar. He couldn’t remember the position that he had left the door in while leaving. He paused at the doorknob and waited, as if trying to hear what or who was inside. A small bead of sweat ran down his forehead as he clutched the door handle. He sniffed inside through the creak and knew that the smell was coming from his own room. He finally threw the door open and flicked on the lights. As the lights came on, he saw the outline of a person standing right across from him. She was standing across the room, near the window, looking straight at him, her eyes staring at him as if searching for a question, a shout, a scream, anything. He just stood there, stunned, surprised, this couldn’t be happening, it wasn’t true, he wasn’t expecting this in the least, he didn’t know how to react, what to say, what to do.

As he sat there on the edge of his bed the next morning holding the book to his chest, he turned around and touched her feet. She was lying there, turned on to one side, holding the pillow tightly to her face, as if seeking security in the warm pillow. She’d had a long journey. She had been on her way back to Chandigarh from the U.S. She had been gone for almost a month on an official project. She had changed her mind and had decided to give Pankaj a surprise instead. He looked at her calm face, her soft tender hands clutching the pillow, her eyes shut tightly as if she wouldn’t let any light disturb her sleep. Pankaj crept up close to her face and kissed her forehead. They had been engaged just before she left, and it would be a few more months before they were to be married. At that moment, he realized how much he loved her, as he held her in his arms.

The gunshot he had heard were real, his house was located near a military shooting range. These noises were very frequent and didn’t alarm anyone. He had been startled because of the semi-sleep that he had been in while reading the book.