The crowd was thinning out . It was close to 10:30 PM . In Delhi , people would have been screaming and honking and getting drunk by the side of the street ,at this hour .
And as the bus jerked to a stop at some weird signal , Kali looked at her battered old Nokia phone again . The address was crystal clear . She had visited the place the day before , just to make sure .
Chennai ,however , was ready to go off to sleep . Good ! good for her .
And as the bus jerked to a stop at some weird signal , Kali looked at her battered old Nokia phone again . The address was crystal clear . She had visited the place the day before , just to make sure .
Loose fitting cottom salwar-kurta , thick glasses and a cheap roadside bag on the shoulder . If only she had put a gajra in her hair , she could have blended in with the local crowd perfectly .
She stifled a laugh , imagining the reaction of the people in this same wretched bus , if she pulled out 0.32 Bore out of her bag and pointed it at someone's head !
Life as an assassin was something she had gotten used to .In the slums of Mumbai ( and later , the juvenile homes cross the country ) she had grown up with the worst humanity had to offer . She knew where to smell the money . And instead of restoring to bar dancing , begging sucking up to some rich asshole . She had done the right thing , sucked up to the mafia , the drug lords , and the 'bhai log'
Her name ( and her reputation of ruthlessness ) had grown over time . From pistols to carving knives to revolvers . She had used them all . She preferred pistols though .
Slaughtering a man with a knife , was always messy . no to mention , the widened eyes , the gagging , the choking and spluttering ...and when they would grab her hand and shit !
With a bullet , you could cut off all the melodrama . If you knew where to hit anyways . The only unavoidable detail was the last look of terror , or surprise , or the blank uncomprehending face .
Sometimes , she sat by that victim long after he was dead .Smoked a fag or two . even rolled up joints . there was a beauty about dead bodies , that 'regular' people would never understand .
A sudden stillness , a feeling of calm . She had killed businessmen , doctors ,pilots ,politicians . Men who cheated , mean who lied , men who bribed or men who were way too honest !
And once they died , they all became the same . . Rigid pieces of flesh . Burn them , hit them ,poke them ,spit on them ... no effect !
She wondered sometimes , if she had seen too much . If she had become hard hearted , aloof . But ,killing made sense to Kali . The rush of adrenaline , the final blow ... the judgement .
In a way , she mused at times , murderers were closer to God than doctors . They took away all pains , all worries , all sins , the useless differences of 'status' and 'caste' and all that bullshit !
The bus screeched to a halt . And as she got down , her hand cradling the revolver in the bag . She smiled . It was time to act God again .
