Santosh Dayal was returning from work . He did not feel like taking the train .A widower for the last few months , his depression had worsened .
A taxi was what he needed. There and behold ! across the street was one with the meter on . He gave his home address and got in . He said nothing and neither did the taxi driver who appeared to have a cold or something because his face and neck was hidden by a big scarf. As he got off at his streeet corner, he put his hand in his pocket to pay the driver . To his amazement , the taxi took off without any warning .
Priya Zinta set of from home from the internet café . She had been onValium ever since she had lost her parents recently . She was tired . Looking for a taxi..to her relief she found one ……one was just coming 50 feet behind her . She got in ..gave her address . .
Priya soon noticed something strange . Although it was bright outside … the interior of the taxi was gloomy . The driver with his scarf was hunched over the lights and the lights in the meter appeared psychedelic
“ Is something wrong with your meter ? “ asked Priya .
The driver mumbled something .
A little anxious , Priya hoped he was not going to overcharge . Before she knew it , the taxi stopped at her destination and she got out .
“ How much is it ? : she demanded .
There was a muffled reply and the taxi was gone .Did he say something like “meherbani “? It made no sense .
Totally puzzled , she swore next time to study the taxi driver before she got into it .
Over the next few months , the word got around .People . the public..was perplexed , but not really worried about the mysterious taxi and its driver .
Since no one was hurt or in any danger , it made no headlines in the paper … just a small mention in a small paragraph on the back page .
Avinash Joglekar was a bright young reporter . After losing his two sisters sometime ago , he had devoted himself entirely to his work . Some strange urge made him dig into this taxi story … whether it was true or just hype .
As Avinash started making enquiries and locating and interviewing all the people who had this strange experience , he came to a shocking conclusion .
All thirty nine people he interviewed had one common denominator . Each one had a list of family members who had died in the same suicide bomber attack last January when he had lost his two sisters who were shopping there at the wrong place and the wrong time .
A suicide bomber in the garb of a taxi driver had driven the taxi , full of explosives into the middle of the crowd and blown himself up .
Avinash was the only one who had not experienced this ghost taxi because he had traveled by BEST bus .
Very late at night , he decided to take a walk . In his pocket was a big folding knife in case he needed it . As he came to a street corner , out of nowhere a taxi appeared parked at the edge of the footpath .
With his heart in his mouth , but mind churning with curiosity , Avinash raised his hand , opened the back door and got into the back seat .
“ Please take me to Marine Drive , “ he told the driver.
As the taxi took off , he started noticing the various peculiarities that the families of all the victims had told him.
The gloomy light , the stuffy atmosphere .the meter fascinated him . it showed several thousand digits and the last one which was six was slowly being reduced to five .
Lastly , he tried his best to look at the driver but all he could see in the rear view mirror was a dark face shrouded with a large scarf and two sad eyes with a haunted expression in them .
“Who are you ? asked Avinash .
For a long time there was silence. Then in a small husky whisper the driver started talking .
“ I am the suicide bomber of Crawford market . My name is Razak Bhutto , from Sindh. My parents sold me as a child for ten lakh rupees to Al Queda . Many of us have been sold over the years .The money seems unlimited ..paid by some Royal Family in the middle East .
I was trained to be a suicide bomber , to give my life in Jihad . I believed in all the rewards I would receive after my death . But nothing of the sort happened .
After the explosion , my spirit floated over the site for hours and hours and I watched with horror .The carnage and destruction I had inflicted on innocent men , women and children , the tears and sadness …I knew I would be doomed to eternal hell, which is what I deserved .
My spirit is now locked within the confines of this taxi . I must transport the family members of all who I destroyed ….back and forth for generations, until I get a glimpse of redemption . That is my fate .
This meter shows several thousand miles and works in reverse .
I don’t know how many years it will take to reach zero .. until then my soul is damned “
Avinash who was an atheist realized that there was a divine power after all ..and justice was being served .
The taxi stopped at Marine Drive . As he got out , he knew there would be no charge and that the taxi would take off and disappear .
The last thing he heard was a whisper from the driver
“ Khuda Hafiz “
Close
Wow!!! Jaijui!!!
That was wonderful. Loved it. You should seriously consider an anthology of short stories.
Reply | | Report Abuse