With a nonplussed look, Vivek watched as Rajan Bhai instructed his son, Montu, to stuff the bag with bottles of Vodka.

“Confused?” Rajan Bhai laughed, displaying a set of stained teeth.

 “These are the tricks of the trade, my boy. You will learn eventually.” 

“What if they detect the….?’

Rajan Bhai cut him short.

“I have been meticulously working on this for three years. A bomb that will byepass all sensors.” He rubbed his hands in glee.

“With no police records, you are the ideal person for this work without arousing suspicion. Once the mission is accomplished, 10 Lakhs are yours.”

Vivek felt ecstatic.  He would take the money home to his wife.

 ‘The bitch has been constantly whining about penury and denying me physical pleasure.  I will take her to task today.’ He muttered.

The constant bickering had forced the construction laborer to join the underworld gang of  Rajan Bhai with a friend’s help, to make some fast buck. 

“The security may disallow you to take the bag in. Befriend the two security guards at the gate. Give them one bottle each. Spin a story that the bottles are for a friend whom you will meet across the road in a while.” Montu handed over the entry pass to Vivek.

“Once you are in, place the bag in a convenient spot and mingle with the crowd casually. Hang on till 11.55 pm to avoid any suspicion. Then scoot off and enjoy the blast from the park on the opposite side.” 

There was a massive clock in the middle of the venue. The bomb was set, such that when the clock completes 12 strikes, the din of the explosion will get submerged in the bursting of crackers all over. 

Vivek was not supposed to know the motive behind this nefarious act. It was none of his business anyway.

As anticipated, Vivek was stopped by the security. The Vodka bottles played their part well.

‘Abhi Toh Party Shuru Hui Hai….‘ The song was blaring while people took to the dance floor.

Vivek’s eyes kept shifting towards the bag that he had carefully placed, under a chair, near the bar.

11.54 Pm, Vivek walked towards the gate only to be confronted by one of the guards.

“Why leaving the party, Saab, without seeing the fireworks?” He saluted

“I have to meet a friend across the road.” Vivek sprinted and reached the middle of the park.

“Dong,” the clock began to strike.  He could feel his heart beat faster.

“Saab, I just realised that you walked out empty handed and forgot your bag with your friend’s Vodka bottles.”  The security guard, who was in a hurry to return, put the bag on Vivek’s shoulder and ran across the road, shouting, “Watch the fireworks, Saab. It will be fabulous.”

Benumbed, Vivek’s brain suddenly refused to work. 

Dong!!! The clock struck Twelve. 

The din of the blast was submerged in the clamour of crackers all over as people ushered into a new year.


Photo By: Unsplash

This is an entry for the event #twelve #Five00-10 at ArtoonsInn Writers Room.

Find the event guidelines here: https://writers.artoonsinn.com/five00-10/

Event sponsored by The Archaic House

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