Reprisal

Inspector Alok Basu sat at his desk on a quiet Friday afternoon. An overhead fan droned and clicked in a rhythmic fashion lulling one into a sense of stupor. No doubt there was no lull in the outer office. Criminal mind needed no respite even at the end of an active week. Yet none of this touched him today. He had just returned from another of those ‘dowry remorse’ cases –another suicide, another note neatly placed well away from the charred remains of a fiery end. There could be no doubt at all this time. Of course the papers no longer cared to report these incidences. But that first time had been a shocker.

It had been a month or so after Kakali Sarkar had decided [or had it been decided for her?] to end her misery by immolating herself. The constant demands by the in-laws, the physical abuse, the emotional torture – it had all been too much. Parents declared foul play, a case had also been filed. But the real shocker came on the day her husband, the dynamic, successful, Rahul Sarkar was also found dead –again by self immolation, with a note of remorse at what had happened to Kakali. The note chided his parents, gently, that they would now know the pain of a dead child. What was one to make of that? Did this implicate his parents in Kakali’s death?

A few months later, there was another dowry death, followed by another suicide, and a handwritten, signed note of regret and remorse. This had made the press really sit up. Was a trend being set? The cases had since continued at a semi-regular interval till both the public and the press had lost interest. But not Inspector Alok Basu. Had the city really acquired a conscience? His lips curled up at this thought. No, it did not make sense. The dowry demands had declined to be sure, and the reports on dowry harassment had also diminished- but it was these remorse suicides that did not make sense. None of the suicide victims had shown any outward remorse at death of their young brides. Several were seeking new partners who were better equipped economically to meet their demands. Then what precipitated that final act? How could one explain away the same jasmine and sandal smell on the bed sheets – in all the cases? The victims leaving work –unexpectedly-around 11am after a receiving a telephone call–in all the cases? The office operator always mentioned a female voice.

Yet why should he care? Giving four daughters in marriage had cost him his honesty, his reputation. And the demands still continued till there was nothing left to give. Surely the time for Kali had finally arrived.