Amrit Singh Chibber, also known as AC was a fighter.  The sixth child of a marginal farmer, he had fought his way into success.  As a young man, he had chosen wisely.  The options open to young poor men in Punjab were limited, they could either become criminals, terrorists or soldiers.  Army did not appeal to him as it did not pay well.  Moreover a regulated life did not suit him.  Criminals and terrorists had poor life expectancy.  He started working for an experienced politician and his mentor taught him well.  Today, not yet fifty, he was a minister with the state government.  He had everything, a fleet of cars, property, wealth and of course, his lovely young wife.

 

He adored his wife.  She was beautiful, young and educated, a pleasure to be with.  He was angry.  In his feudal mind, an attack on his wife was a personal attack and someone was going to pay for it.  After ensuring that Alpana was comfortable, sedated and asleep, and her personal maid was sleeping on the floor next to her bed, he went into his study and switched the TV on.  The commentator was retelling the sensational tale of the Noida double murder.  They were showing the bloody living room of the Joshi house, and then they showed clips of  the mad man Nagpal who confessed to the crime.  The other confession by the injured Joshi was also being shown.   

 

He switched to another news channel.  The same news was being replayed.  This news channel was enterprising.  It had invited some psychiatrist guest speaker who was giving a lot of technical jargon about how some demented men confessed to any and every crime.  He picked up his cellphone and rang up Alpana’s brother, Vipin who was a medical student in a prestigious college.

 

“Hello” said Vipin sleepily

 

“Beta kaise ho?”

 

“Jijaji, sab theekh toh hai?” said Vipin sitting up in his bed, all sleep gone.

 

AC related the incident and Vipin assured him that he would be there immediately.  AC said

 

“Beta, get a qualified doctor with you.  Don’t come alone” and put the phone down.

 

Vipin Chaddha, MBBS, pursuing his MD in cardiology, got up, very worried.  He was a doctor and he could not believe that some intruder would enter his sister’s heavily guarded home, cut her feet and vanish.  It was bizarre.  He feared for her mental health.  He switched on his laptop and sat down to read all he could about this and also network with some people in the field as he waited for day break when he could apply for leave and fly to Chandigarh.

 

 

6 am Day 3

 

Hey handsome what are you doing up this early    

 

Vipin smiled.  It was Ramola, his girl friend, a MBBS student.  He typed

Didi is not well, I’ve got to go to Chandigarh

Ramola replied

 :(    

Old Grinch is going to give you hell

I know but I have to ….

All the best

 

She was right, Grinch, the HOD would not like it, but Jijaji was a trustee and a member of the Board.  If necessary, he would pull strings and make it more comfortable.  He made a decision and rang her up

Hey girl, your Dad in town?

Ramola’s father was a leading psychiatrist and divided his time between U.K. and India, treating mental health patients.  Indians abroad preferred Indian shrinks, who could understand them.

Dad is in U.K.  Tell me …..

Got to discuss a case with a psychiatrist

My God, Vipin, what is going on?

I don’t know babe, I don’t know

Hmmm, I’ll talk to you when we meet.  Am messaging you Meenal’s number, she’s been assisting Dad 

Thanks babe

 

Meenal was Ramola’s cousin, non communicative and nerdy.  It took guts to talk to her, but Didi and Jijaji were the parents he never had.  He called her up.  It was 7 a.m.  By ten, he was enroute to Chandigarh along with Dr. Meenal Vashisht, a qualified psychiatrist, assistant to Dr. Ramswarup Chaudhary.