THE ACCIDENT

“News Headline”

Delhi met a bomb blast at 8.00 pm IST.

16th of December 2001 was surely a historic day for India.

6 people died and 3 still injured. 

The event took place at ‘THE DECENT RESTAURANT’.

The accident is considered to be a terrorist attack or a preplanned event and officer Sushil Pande is appointed to solve the case.

The investigation was handed over to Officer Sushil Pande.

“Get me the reports of the deceased immediately!” he demanded, his voice echoing through the crime scene.

His assistant, Dr. Shinde, nodded and quickly scanned his notes. “Sir, among the three injured, two are in a coma, and one is just a ten-year-old boy.”

Pande narrowed his eyes. “Accha! Get me their names.”

Dr. Shinde handed him the files. “Here, sir.”

The injured individuals were identified as follows:

• Mr. Sunil Shinde – An employee at the Noida branch of HDFC Bank.
• Mr. Waman Gothe – A retired professor from Delhi Public School.
• Rakesh Joshi – A ten-year-old boy from Urban Delhi, also a student at Delhi Public School.

The officer’s expression darkened as he read further. “The boy lost his father in the blast, a man named Manish Joshi, and his mother had died when he was just an infant.”

Pande exhaled sharply and shook his head. “I’ve got nothing to do with the boy. Admit him to the nearest orphanage and get me the detailed reports of the deceased. We need to close this case as soon as possible.”

Dr. Shinde hesitated before replying, “As you say, sir.”

Six Years Later

Delhi had since moved on, but the scars of the tragedy remained. On this particular day, a massive public address meeting was being held. The people of Delhi had once again elected Mr. Shrinath Gaitonde as their collector. For six years, he had dominated the political landscape with his influence.

Gaitonde, a powerful yet controversial politician, had a reputation steeped in corruption, illegal dealings, and connections to the underworld. Despite multiple imprisonments, he had managed to secure his position time and again.

Standing before a large crowd, he spoke with confidence. “It has been a struggle to maintain my position for the last six years, but this journey has forged a strong bond between you and me.”

Suddenly, a voice rose from the audience, interrupting the speech.

“Sure! We do have a DECENT bond, right? We just hope you don’t BLAST our hopes this time.”

The atmosphere turned eerily silent. A murmur spread through the audience, and tension filled the air. Within minutes, the meeting was adjourned.

Backstage, Gaitonde furiously turned to his personal assistant, Kulkarni. “Who was that?!”

Kulkarni, already investigating, replied, “Sir, some people from GROW Orphanage were present at the meeting, along with their manager, Nityam Suryavanshi.”

“Call the head right now!” Gaitonde demanded.

Nityam Suryavanshi was an orphan himself, but fortune had favoured him when a kind couple adopted him. He dedicated his life to providing a home for abandoned children. That afternoon, Gaitonde stormed into the orphanage, carrying a bag of donations—undoubtedly for a publicity stunt.

He wasted no time, addressing Nityam with a menacing glare. “Who was responsible for that comment during my speech?”

Nityam remained composed. “Sir, how would I know? I wasn’t even present. I was managing food distribution for the children.”

Gaitonde turned to Kulkarni. “Then it must have been one of the kids.”

A voice from the children’s group responded boldly, “Obviously.”

Nityam frowned and looked toward the crowd. “Rakesh?”

From the back of the room, a young man stepped forward. His sharp, intelligent eyes met Gaitonde’s gaze. He was Rakesh Joshi, now sixteen years old.

“Remember me, sir?” Rakesh asked, his voice carrying a chilling calmness.

Gaitonde studied him, but before he could respond, Rakesh continued, “People nowadays think that donating money and doing a few good deeds will erase their sins.”

A heavy silence settled in the room. Gaitonde’s mind raced as he pieced together the cryptic words the boy had uttered at the meeting.

“We do have a DECENT bond… We hope you don’t BLAST our hopes.”

A cold realization dawned on him. “Decent Blast? The bomb blast?” he whispered to himself.

Rakesh took slow, deliberate steps toward him, his gaze unwavering. “Exactly, sir.”

Without warning, Gaitonde lunged forward, grabbing Rakesh by the collar. “Do you even know who you’re messing with?” he growled.

Rakesh, unafraid, stared right back. “Yes. The man who orchestrated the bomb blast that killed my father.”

Gaitonde scoffed and shook his head. “You really think I needed to stage a bombing just to kill your father? What nonsense! What blast are you even talking about? And who the hell was your father?”

Rakesh clenched his fists. “Manish Joshi.”

The name seemed to strike a nerve. Gaitonde’s amused expression faltered for a split second before he regained composure.

“Oh?” he sneered. “So you think I killed your father? Should I send you to where he is now?” He let out a sinister laugh.

Tears welled up in Rakesh’s eyes, but his resolve didn’t waver. “Just wait a few months. I’ll expose your truth. You will be helpless. The same hand you use to distribute donations will be the one that’s chopped off by me.”

Gaitonde’s eyes darkened. He leaned in close, whispering in Rakesh’s ear, “All this for a suicide bomber? A terrorist?”

Rakesh’s breath caught in his throat. “What?”

Gaitonde smirked. “Your father wasn’t a victim. He was the perpetrator.”

Rakesh staggered back, his mind reeling. “That’s a lie!”

Gaitonde turned to leave. “Believe what you want, boy. But remember the name—Shrinath Gaitonde.”

As the door slammed shut behind him, Rakesh stood frozen, his heart pounding. Everything he thought he knew had just been shattered.

Will Rakesh uncover the truth? Was his father really a terrorist, or was this another deception by Gaitonde?

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