DARK TRUTH Chapter 1

A frail man in his 60’s found himself lying flat on his face on a dusty road. Though it was a summery night; a cold breeze brought in more dust and blurred his already fading vision. He tried to recollect the incident, which made him land in such an awkward position. He stressed on his thoughts. He tried very hard. He murmured. It was getting difficult by seconds and minutes for the old man to recollect what had led to his fall. He questioned to himself, “Was it 10 minutes back?” or “Was it an hour back?” or “Was I lying here for quite a long time?” Life around him was normal. He knew he was drunk and he had downed an entire bottle of country made liquor from the dingy bar behind him. He clearly remembered that he is a regular at this place almost every day and night. The only thing he couldn’t recollect was the reason behind his insulting ouster.

After a hard day’s work at his office, Rajat was back. The lock on the door let him know his father was not home. It was 11.30 p.m. and he had to get ahead with another hard task in his hand. For the last two years, it had become his responsibility to hunt for his father who went missing for days, weeks and months. Unwillingly he rang the doorbell of his neighbours. Being the creative head of a newspaper agency he had to always carry his work home on a laptop. Also with him were loads of papers on which he had this habit of making short notes.

It was 1 a.m. Ankush was all very excited to leave for the airport. A student of journalism and zeal to achieve big had always made him stay ahead from others. Though a Delhiite by his heart, his mind always was impressed with Mumbai’s glam life. While doing a research on the yesteryears of Bollywood, he had discovered something, which very few knew about. He was sure no big news agency in Delhi would ever add any kind of seriousness in considering his story. His hopes were zeroed in on ‘Mumbai Life’ which would not only give a thought to his story but may perhaps help him earn mullah, bag a job or make him famous. After having applied for a month long leave, he was set to fly to Mumbai. He felt lucky he could afford a flight ticket. He thanked his freelancing assignments and the wealthy wives of rich businessmen he escorted when needed.

It was close to 1.30 a.m. Ruksar a woman in her 50’s was readying Gracy for an appointment she had fixed with a wealthy hotelier. Ruksar told Gracy not to be reluctant. She advised her to feel light and go ahead with a free mind. “Don’t be shy. Do as he wishes. And then from a budding model he will make you the face of Bollywood”, said Ruksar. She was quite a prominent personality with the page three socialites of Mumbai. People who knew her were sure that she was the one to pump excitement in late night parties. She was blessed with this quality of luring young girls to the world of glamour. She made them dream big and pushed them to high-level prostitution. Her loose hold in Bollywood helped her make tall claims about making stars out of aspirants. But the truth was much darker than imagined.

At around 2 a.m. Madhoo was busy filing some papers she had printed after an extensive research on the yesteryears of Bollywood. This is the longest; she had ever worked in the office. She knew she had to toil hard for one more week. And if her story managed to make news, she wished to join her sister Kriti in England. Kriti was busy creating a campaign against racial discrimination inflicted by fellow whites against immigrant Indians.

Alex, the chief editor of ‘Mumbai Life’ wanted to bring something special to the anniversary edition. It was ages that the favourite tabloid of Mumbaiites had created any ripple. With a creative team in place and a marketing strategy implemented Alex was hungry for instant fame and long lasting glory.