A Hero

I guess I was sleeping for a while. Well, here's a comeback...

A HERO

This was the big night and for the first time in so many years the commissioner was feeling exited. It was as if he had become a little boy again. His wife saw this and smiled. She gave his hand a small squeeze and whispered a barely audible “congratulations” into his ear. The screaming siren was drowning every thing else. He looked out at the rows of shops and the people in them who had now begun to stare at his passing car. He couldn’t help but feel proud. He was once one of them and look at him now. It hadn’t been an easy journey though. He had his share of troubles, a dead father, the civil services exam and the years of hard work. And today the state ministry had called a special ceremony just to award him.
“An exceptional track record,” he had heard the Home Minister say to the media. It was true. He had after all been in the front line of a long campaign which saw the elimination of over a hundred criminals in the past one year. With twenty-five dead, ten serving death sentences and numerous others behind bars, the Police Department had reasons to be proud. And he was the star that had made it all possible.
The Banquet hall was glittering with the flowers and the decorations. It was suddenly swept with the sound of clapping hands as the commissioner entered and went up to the stage. After a really brief speech unusual of politicians, the chief minister handed him a bouquet and congratulated him. Someone had remembered that he loved orchids. The commissioner was touched. He looked at his wife, seated in the front row, and mused- she was looking beautiful. There were prominent lines on her face and streaks of gray in the opulent hair but she still was beautiful. Well, he too was loosing some of his lustrous mane, he was not a young man anymore.
He felt he heard a gunshot. After all that is one sound that his experienced ear could pick out among thousand others. He was suddenly aware of a dull numbing pain in the chest. The world around him had started to swirl. He felt seeing glimpses of people running around and muted screams. The assistant commissioner and his wife and few others were leaning over him. She was saying something but he couldn’t catch the words. A void had begun to form. The survival instinct of a fighter tried to push out the drowning feeling that seemed to suck him in a dark hole but in vain. He desperately took a gasp of breath but it didn’t clear his head. He was sinking further and farther.
It was pitch dark. The commissioner couldn’t see a thing. He peered his eyes hard only to shrink back in despair. He could neither see the surface on which he was standing nor any ceiling or wall if there were any at all. But he was conscious of a presence. He tried to look again but failed.
“There he is, the man himself!” said someone all of a sudden.
He couldn’t exactly tell which direction the voice came from so he looked all round him
“Who is it? Why can’t I see you?” he asked, his confidence sinking with every passing second.
“Of course you can’t see me, you silly man!” the voice mocked, “ I am the angel of death.”
On any other day the commissioner would have thought that this was a bad joke but at that moment something in him was telling him to believe what the voice was saying or it could have been that he was simply afraid.
“It’s not funny,” he squeaked.
“Silence,” the voice thundered, “you mortals have become more and more skeptical over the passing centuries. I am not sure whether it is entirely a good thing. Do you have any idea of the amount of trouble I had to go through to secure this meeting? I even had to manipulate the poor man who shot you into doing it.”
“You manipulated whom?”
“The man who shot you, yes, that’s against our ethics. We don’t allow any direct interference into human lives. However I was granted permission in this case as the matter is of utmost importance.”
The commissioner didn’t know what to think or do. His mind must have been playing tricks. May be it was a hallucination, drug induced or otherwise, he knew that these things happened or may be he really was dead. As far as he could remember, he had indeed been shot.
“Am I dead?” he asked hesitating.
“If you were dead you would be able to see me”, replied the voice. “But I have not come here to answer your ridiculous questions. I needed to see you because you have been sending too many people over to the other side and in most of the cases before their time and we are suffering from chronic overcrowding.”
“But sir, I mean how can that be?” the commissioner asked, “ I thought no one can die before their time. Aren’t you supposed to see to that?”
“Of course I am,” came the reply, the tone a bit subdued, “but you see with the world population growing at such an alarming rate we are being forced to rely on human intelligence. Not that it is getting us anywhere. Your judiciary has been convicting too many and mostly the wrong people. I accept that you have your internal politics but think of us once in a while too. We haven’t been faced with such a problem since the witch killings in Europe and the world was not that populated then. You wouldn’t be able to imagine the amount of extension we had to do both in heaven and hell to accommodate the growing number of souls. God has to do something about the rising population on earth or we don’t know what we are going to do.”
“Are we looking at a flood then sir?”
“Quite possible or some other natural calamity but that’s none of your business. Look I don’t have much time so let me finish what I have to say. You have done your part in keeping me busy. I haven’t had a break this one year and I am not going to tolerate this kind of treatment. I have my rights too. So when you go back I want you to be more careful with your…what do you call them? Encounters, yes, that and the death sentences.”
“You mean I’m going back?”
“Of course you are. What is the point to this meeting otherwise? No wonder things are getting so hard in both the realms. It should with people of your IQ as officials. Now go! I have work to do.”

His wife was still leaning over him but the surroundings had changed. He tried to get up but was held back by the series of tubes and pipes.
“Take it easy,” she said, “you’ve just gained back consciousness.”
He was lying in a hospital bed, his chest wrapped in heavy bandages and his whole body aching. But he was too occupied to feel that. In all those years, after each successful encounter, he could feel a second voice trying to squeal something inside, but he had always silenced that with his logical reasoning for the flashbulbs and all that glamour. After all in his trade, the line of right and wrong has always been too thin.

A doctor came in to check his blood pressure and pulse. The assistant commissioner followed him.
“Sir, Welcome back!” he saluted.
“The doctor said you’re going to be fine. It was miraculous that the bullet didn’t enter your heart.” said his wife.
“That brings us to the man sir. He is a sub-inspector and was in the security squad. It is still not known why he fired. The doctors believe he is mentally disturbed but then it is a mystery how he gained admission into the force at all. He is currently under observation. But personally I think he is feigning madness. It is best if we arrest him immediately. He could be dangerous.”
“No! No! ” the commissioner cried, “It is all wrong….”
But his wife interrupted, “That’s it. You are getting him all excited. He is still weak. Please sir if you would kindly come with me. It is best for the commissioner’s health.”
So saying she ushered both herself and the assistant commissioner out of the room. She cast one last loving look at the man lying on the bed. He hadn’t really been the best life partner but he was the most courageous man she knew and she was proud. He had even fought death and won. She wiped a straying tear with her handkerchief and closed the door with care.