Brijesh opened his eyes.
The office was immaculate proving its energy in the form of its staff walking in a haphazard manner. All were busy in settling down. Brijesh stared at them from his table, looking confused. He could not tell how long he slept but it felt like a nanosecond of a nap to him. The whole office looked outlandish as if it was the first time for him there. He was certainly weary about the previous day, the meeting with The Minister.
A lady with a long file came to him with a longer smile. Brijesh felt he knew the lady since many years, but it was the first time he was looking at her…
“Devan, Sir is calling. . . Devan. . He wants to meet you now”. Her voice was very calm,which made him believe that everything was alright. He could not recall her name. She produced a file before him and asked him to sign the document. He glanced through the registry, seeking his name. All the names in the registry were signed except a name “Devan”. He moved his hand towards the name and tried to sign as ‘Brijesh’ but he wrote ‘Devan’. He felt his hands functioning involuntarily . . .!
Brijesh followed the lady to the manager’s cabin. The Manager was sitting on a rolling chair in front of a computer with a sullen face. As soon as he turned to Brijesh walking inside his room, he stood up instantly and fired words angrily at him.
“Do you think of yourself as a spy? James Bond? Why do you risk yourself for an unknown man?”
“Sir, you have no idea of what the minister is up to. . .”
“Wait Devan. Don’t forget that you are just a reporter and The Minister owns this company.”
“Injustice is same to all. Don’t you see the Minister is stealing that man’s land?” Brijesh fired back.
“Stop all this Devan. It is never good to oppose our owner. Hand me your pen drive, Or else I will have to type your resignation letter”.
“I shall leave gladly. Tell your owner to provide justice to all those innocent people bereft of their land, Or else the pen drive will have to be fit into the appropriate port.”
The Manager and the lady stood still while Brijesh left the room. He came to his desk, checked the files of The Minister and ejected the pen drive named “Devan-Report”.
Brijesh felt a sort of uneasiness in his walk. He was getting pulled towards the parking lot like iron attracting a magnet. He started his motorcycle. It was cloudy overhead. His automobile moving towards the commissioners office.
Tiny drops of water sprinkling from the sky welcomed his purpose. He felt like an angel through the eyes of the rain. He was certain that pace of the rain will increase in a few seconds. Thunder was beginning to roar,he felt the same thunder crashing into him from behind as he fell on the muddy ground. A Brown Bolero SUV hit him from behind. He struggled to pick up his bag, but not before a strong leg stamping on it,resisted him from grabbing it. Brijesh pushed the leg hard, took his bag and started running in the rain. He was picking up his pace to escape from those ominous hands. He felt the pen drive safe in his bag. He ran. . He ran. .
He wished someone helped him. He saw a shop at a distance to his right and there stood a man drinking coffee. Brijesh looked at the man clearly. For a moment he thought it was just a reflection in the rain but he realized, He saw himself at the shop. It was him drinking coffee. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He turned behind to check for the man who hit him with the car. The man was holding a gun in the direction of Brijesh. Brijesh could see the bullet travelling in the air. He inhaled deeply. But before he could let his breath out, he was shot at the head. . .
Brijesh opened his eyes.
He was on his bed, terrified by the nightmare. He moved his hands over the bed to make sure it was not wet by the rain. He drank a glass of water, wondering why he should get a dream of Devan. He had met Devan at the Minister’s house the previous day.
Brijesh’s father was working for the minister. The Minister had used him to his advantage and stolen his land in the name of the political party. There were no proper documents related to the registration. Brijesh’s father died mystifyingly a month later. The worst part was finding out that Brijesh’s father was not the only victim.
Brijesh had met the minister to ask for his father’s land back but the words of the minister had provoked him rather than convincing. Devan was waiting for the Minister’s formal press-meet. He had videographed The Minister’s and Brijesh’s conversation. Later, he came to Brijesh and told him not to worry. Devan had interviewed the Minister in an unusual way, stressing more on his illegal politics. The Minister had walked out in the middle of the interview.
Brijesh was still bewildered by the dream. He could not concentrate on his work in the office. He was working as an accountant in an interior designing company. He decided to take a break. He took his friend with him on his motorcycle to a coffee shop. It had started raining. Brijesh took a sip of coffee, looking at the rain drops dripping from the roof edge of the shop. He widened his gaze to those droplets farther away from him. At a distance he saw a man running with a bag and he noticed that the man was looking at him.
Brijesh was thousand times more terrified than when he had the dream. He saw his dream taking shape right in front of his eyes exactly as he had dreamt of it. He dropped the coffee glass and ran towards the man. He pulled the man aside and they both escaped from the bullet. Brijesh looked into the man’s eyes. It was Devan.
Brijesh knew the story before Devan could explain it. They both ran towards the commissioners office. Devan flashed his ID card at the entrance. He barged directly into the commissioner’s room. Brijesh was following him.
The minister and his men were sitting inside the commissioners office as they were already expecting Devan’s arrival. Devan & Brijesh stood there in panic. One of the men from The Minister’s side stood up, retreived his gun & pointing it at Devan, shot him mercilessly. Devan fell on the ground. The man turned towards Brijesh and shot him in the head.
Devan opened his eyes.
He looked at his office from his table.