It was a dark gloomy room where RaamSamujh stood, facing the four people lounging in the front of him.
He glared at them with no expressions on his face. His face had hardened due to the years he has spent on his job.
“So what are you here for?”, RaamSamujh asked the first person, a 50 year old man.
The Man looked at him. “I was having my meal, they thought I was eating a Cow. They rushed into my house and attacked me”, he said.
“Oh, so what happened then?”, asked an emotionless RaamSamujh.
“Right now they are trying to find out if the meat I was eating was actually that of a Cow”, the Man retorted.
RaamSamujh moved on to the next person, a middle aged man in his late 40s and asked him the same question.
The man looked at him with a twisted smile.
“I am a Writer. I wrote something which some people didn’t like. They pumped me full of bullets as I was walking down the street. I fell down there and lost consciousness. I have no idea who got me here”
RaamSamujh gave him a knowing nod, “So what happened after that?”, he inquired feigning interest.
“They are trying to find out if what I wrote was indeed correct or not. The facts are being debated by historians”, the man replied, with a sigh.
RaamSamujh frowned as he looked at the young 20 year old girl sitting next to the writer, “And you, young lady?? What did you eat or write??”, he asked.
“Nothing of that sort”, the young lady responded in a low tone. “I was walking down the street, coming back from a party, when a few guys pulled me into a car. They Gang-Raped me for hours, taking turns to tear my body up. They threw me out of the car when they were done with me. I think my head hit a stone but I was in too much pain from the Rape, to know that. And when I opened my eyes… Here I was”.
RaamSamujh looked up and down at the girl with a smirk, “So what happened next?”
The young girl looked at her legs which RaamSamujh seemed to be eyeing and pulled down her short skirt a bit in a feeble attempt to cover them up.
“They are trying to find out if my skirt was long enough to be considered as decent. Maybe I should have just worn a jeans or even better, a Salwar Suit?”, the Young Girl asked RaamSamujh.
He gave another smirk as he moved on to the last person in the room. A very old bald man with round glasses, sitting in the corner not paying any attention to the conversation, yet hearing everything that was said.
“So what about you, you seem to be older than me !!!”, RaamSamujh asked the Old Bald Man.
The Old Bald Man replied in a calm voice, “I have been here from a long long time, RaamSamujh, its just that you have noticed me today. I was taking a peaceful walk in my Aashram when some hot headed youth came and shot me. Twice. I remember muttering ‘Hey Raam’ as I fell down.”
RaamSamujh tried to get a closer look at the man as he asked, “So what happened next?”
“They still shoot me everyday in different ways. This time its words which are shot, ripping my soul apart, instead of bullets ripping my body apart”, the Old Bald Man said adjusting his glasses.
RaamSamujh frowned, “I meant what happened after you were shot”.
The Man smiled, “Right now, they are wondering if the Guy who shot me should be declared a National Hero for what he did”
RaamSamujh shrugged his shoulders as he gave all the four people another look. They all seemed to be looking at each other, figuring exactly what had got them here in the first place.
A choice of food, a choice of clothes, a choice of writing or simply a choice of one’s thoughts.
RaamSamujh looked at his watch and slowly trudged to the door, went out and locked it, leaving the four people to their thoughts.
His friend Ashfaq was waiting for him outside.
“So RaamSamujh, how was today at work?”, Ashfaq asked.
RaamSamujh looked back at the locked door and twisted the handle to make sure the door remained shut. He looked at Ashfaq and shrugged his shoulders again.
“Nothing much ….. Just another day at a Morgue”.
Disclaimer: All the Characters in the Story are fictitious. So is the Country where this story is apparently based.………….. Or Is It??