Disclaimer

All named agencies, organizations and places depicted in this novel are real. The historical facts too. However those depicted as myths or conspiracies are to be digested so. No claim is made on or no side is vouched on them. The story takes a bit of liberty on certain issues as any fiction does and doesn't intend to promote any violence or communal hatred; infact the novel's novel attempt is to bring about communal harmony. The storyline about the secret keepers is absolutely fictitious. All characters and the plot line are fictitious and thus any allegation is base less. So, enjoy your novel!

Note: For beginners at blogging, please start reading from the last post, the prepilogue. Order is last to latest. Night # ^ is the last night to be posted, covering about a third of the whole novel, as I am in hope for some publishers. So please wait till its out in the stalls for further story. Also if you are a publisher, leave a comment for this post and I shall contact you. Any suggestions and comments are welcome. I love my critics. Happy reading. :)

Night # ^

"Head straight! That's it! Here's heathrow!" said an anxious Jerold.
" Arnav! It was you who asked me abo..."
"Fine! My apologies. I've apologised twice already mademoiselle Anahita Avasthi."
"OK guys...So Arnav what is it about the model?"


"Well...first of all why do you think your grandfather chose that symbol when he could have chosen something well related to the object he wanted to hide?"
"May be not give out intruders a clue?"
"Exactly! So he chose a symbol that would be understood by someone who knows about both the seal and the secret. Somewhat like a password's password. He chose a symbol at the south of India. Any idea why?"
"No."
"The Taj Mahal is located at the southern part of Agra!"
"Oh!"
"Also, he chose a symbol that depicts a kiss...an eternal symbol of love for ages. The Taj Mahal also, according to him was the same thing. An eternal symbol of love.''
"So...he chose something related?"


"Yeah!! Not just that...Do you mind thinking of Ana Bahhebak S'ba yet again?"
"Ok..."
"What was it?"
"I love you door first"
"Then?"
"I love you star"
"Why?"
"The ceiling had one and the secret was hidden underneath one."
"Yeah...but why a star alone??"
"Come on...He was a christian and a pentagram is a well used symbol in their architecture of course."
"But he hid an Indian secret"
"So?"
" Ok Anahita...Tell me what do you see at the top of The Taj...it's pinnacle I mean."
"A star"

The car had stopped and they had to hurry to the airport. They had no time to discuss further. They had no guarantee that the goons had left them have their way. They had hardly anytime left to board the flight. They ran through the checks, checked in and ran through the subway and boarded the flight. Throughout the way, each glanced the other with various looks; all differently in moods and at varied times. Nicole and Arnav got to sit next to each other in the airplane.

"So...There's a star at the top of the pinnacle of the monument"
"No! wait"
"What?"
"The Britishers wanted to hide the secret. But not hide from the secret itself!"
"Wwhat??"
"Look at this scaled down version. Do you see the star?"
"No!! It's something else!"
"Yeah...It is a kalasa."
"A what?"
"Well your grandfather fantasised a star here and thus said I love you star."
"But why did he want that? Why did Ana say that it was a star?"


"That is what was intended! The British, including your grandfather wanted a star there! Your grandfather chose the star not just for that, but it the large star the top of pinnacle of that room hinted at the minute star underneath.That was because, in the Taj, in its insides there is a clear depiction of the kalasa on the floor! So there must have been a star on the floor! However, if he had arranged for a small star, once coudn't notice it. So he got etched a big star on the ceiling and a smaller one on the floor. On the contrary, there is a small kalasa at the pinnacle but a large one on the floor. Most people still think that it is a crescent moon and a star, the eternal islamic symbol! But look here! It is a coconut, of course a crescent moon and betel nut leaves...part of the hindu kalasa."
"But why??"
"Well time has come to reveal you stuff. Do you know why did I tell you that the Taj is the safest? The bomb is placed there and we shall be safe under the Taj."
"Under the Taj?"


"Yeah...look here?? The known Taj has only three floors. There are three more in the model! This is where shall we hide."
"Wow! But how do you know all this?"
"That is what I was assigned for. My last assignment with Rushmore was to write a paper on the Truth of Taj."
"What truth?"
"Well, The Taj Mahal is a temple turned tomb. It was an ancient vedic temple."

Night # %

"Yeah! That is it. You have done it Shankar. Put the food back in the red bag. You can go now." beamed his master. He called his assistant. They went on a stroll.

"This is beauty! The saffron army shall finally do it. Blast the Taj Mahal in about one and a half days."

"Yes sir!"

"No one shall suspect us and this little boy ; that too on a Vaikuntha Ekadasi!"

"Yes sir" If I allow you to do it that is.

"I still dread thinking about the day I saw Shankar playing with that bird of his. What if I hadn't seen it??"

"It would all be different sir."

"Yeah...How many times should I prompt you to address me as guruji?"

"Theek hain guruji." Guru...huh...you are a shame for that name.

"Now did you get what I meant by Its easy to dodge an elephant, not a fly?"

"Sure enough sir."

"The police and the guards would do everything to save it by checking people, patrol and stuff. How can they even think of a vulture which shall fly from unknown heights to the mausoleum and sit at the top level domes' floor, which is a prohibited section, with a small package of heavy explosives?"

"Of course not, sir." If I don't tip them off about it you old sinner.

"Now that we had Shankar caught for the work and have him finish the bird's training completely, it is just to wait for that day to free the bird in the morning", Guruji smiled.

"Yeah. What else is left young man?"

"Nothing I know of sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite enough, sir."

"Well I feel there is something definitely left." Guruji pulled a gun and shot his assistant, the tall lean man, who had once questioned him about Sanskrit, right through his head.

Night # $

"Save me! Who are you madam?" asked a shocked Sandeep Krishnan.
"I am actually a citizen of this country. That should suffice it I think."
"Well?!...I meant what was your post that paved way into these echelons..."
"I'm Sarah. I exactly don't have any power but I have a powerful father!"
"Sarabjeet Kaur! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE AT YOUR WORK?"
"Come on dad, don't call me that. I am Sarah."
"Look at her Sandeep. From the moment that Sarabjit Singh was sentenced to death in Pakistan, she refuted her name. You know Punjabis do have same names many times for both girls and boys. What actually matters in Singh and Kaur. Singh the lion prince and Kaur the lioness princess. What's in a name after all?"
"Exactly dad, what's in a name after all? I'm Sarah! JUST Sarah. I'm independent a woman."
"Immature blood. Anyways WHY DID YOU CALL HIM FOR?"
"Didn't I tell you about my guess dad?"
"You indeed did. So did I explain you about its foolish claims."
"They aren't foolish! Your intelligence is foolish."
"What??"
"Yes."
"Ok guys enough. Now that I have come, no point lies in arguing. Tell me Sarah, why did you want me here."
"There you are. Come on to a safer place."
"Into my office?"
"Your office dad? It's no safer than shouting at the Ramlila Maidan at a microphone. It's obviously our home.MY room."

Sarah took glances at the room in which her father and his friend where there and left. The duo followed her. They got into her car and reached the old government bungalow of her father. After a long walk they finally reached her room.

"The room should have enlightened you by now that I'm a techie."
"Yeah."
"Well let me not beat round the bush and strive at the point I need to make. I always liked this idea of call interception. In India especially it has prevented many crimes that were to occur otherwise. Once when I was trying my own call interceptor, I got a chance to listen to an unknown conversation. Unfortunately since I hadn't added the source code detector then, I couldn't manage to find the location of the call. However, I did learn something. The call was a terrorist group's. They are about to blast something...called it the holy work...kidnap...stuff like that.But they were clearly referring to a world famous mausoleum near Delhi...which happens happens to be the..."

"Taj Mahal."

"Yeah! That too to be executed in about two days!! But dad opines that it was something illegal that I did and must be happy enough for being free and stop this all at once. He feels that it's outrageous a thing to be done."

"Indeed. The Taj Mahal has been guarded 24/7 and is monitored completely well. Motor vehicles aren't allowed within a range of one kilometer. In the wake of Mumbai and Ahmedabad blasts of last year the security has been cordoned much more. The CISF ,armed personnel and the local police tightly guard it. There are metal detectors placed and CCTVs arranged for. Manual and random searches are common and we have done our best already to annoy the visitors enough. Now you speak of some some stupid unauthorised prank call. Such stuff is common."

"Oh yeah? Then what was it about the great goods that your men left to pass through the check posts I heard from Amte?"

"Oh so he siphoned you off with that? AMTE! NO INCREMENT!"

"Enough dad! I've given him that already...Now tell me what do you have for it ??"

"Well that's common too."

"Well I think we better be on alert Karamjeet."
"Sandeep, what? You believe her when my intelligence hasn't got anything for me?"
"Oh come on officer. You know better than me as to how intelligence has failed many times or being made to fail ?"
"Well, but...Let's just check the CCTV's once. For her satisfaction."
"Well, you say, OK"
"Good"

The trio hurried back towards the headquarters and started soon reached the control room.

"Officer Amte! WHAT DID YO..."
"Not now Karamjeet. Did your men come across anything suspicious on the cameras off late?"
"No sir"
"Well...hmm... we fancy a look at them once."
"Sure sir."

After a rigorous search for about an hour, they ended up finding nothing unusual.
"Saw that Sarabjeet? Nothing suspicious at all !"
"But dad!..."
"Wait. Surely there was nothing really unusual. But then did you notice that the CCTVs at the backside were blank at two times?"
"Yeah...but that's not unheard of right? I mean technicalities you know.Moreover no it was a backside camera!"
"But the same camera? At the same time on two consecutive days when the officers at that posting would be out for lunch and the security weak? Didn't you hear some sounds? Like someone trying to break something ? If it were a technical fault why is the audio there? It seems as though someone covered the camera with something opaque for sometime. Is this
camera positioned at a relatively low level?"

"Unfortunately, yeah!"

Night # #

Here am I in this locked chamber. I know everything happens for good. But I don't think I can stand this torture any longer. The room is small and the oxygen amount is deteriorating. The windows are cemented and the room locked. I definitely cant stay for two more days. I shall die before the blast occurs. Ya Allah. Save me.

Night # @

"Me! It was me who saved all our lives tonight" shouted in ecstasy Chris.
"Of course not, the Wading van was my idea after all!"
"Oh yeah?? Who got the spar..."

"Enough guys. Stop bickering" scowled Nicole at Jerold and Chris who were still staring at each other, the way perhaps Wilbur Wright and Oliver Wright would have, at the quintessential moment of their first fly, if they were Chris and Jerold; a highly unlikely a case.

They were still in the waters of the shallow lake and were about to reach the other part. A few moments ago, when they heard the firing, they were ready to breathe their last. Fewer moments earlier too, when they had plunged into the lake, they had a similar feeling. However, the feeling of now's was an all together new one. They had left a sigh of relief. Thanks Arnav. Oh thanks to you too Chris and Jerold.

They had almost reached the other bank. All of them except Arnav, seemed to be popping up with hundreds of questions but appeared resisting them thinking that it wasn't the right time. Finally, Anahita broke the silence.

"Hey! Now where is the golden Taj Mahal??"
"In here, in the bag."
"Wow! You got it along then eh?"
"Of course, would I leave it as surprise gift for the goons?"
"We want a look at it!"

The car had finally crossed the lake and they were on the roads again. Chris switched of the machine to switch the driving mechanism back to the normal.

"So! Here you are!" told Arnav and unzipped his bag to reveal a beautiful small scale version of the Taj Mahal.
"Solid gold eh?"
"Yeah!"
"Wow, wonder why he wanted this secretive. Could have fetched him billions. Wonder how old it is."
"Shut up Jerold. Arnav tell us more."
"Well, before we start, I want anyone of you to tell me more about the Taj Mahal."
"Let me try" told an interested Anahita. "Had been there twice with my parents.

“The Taj Mahal was built by one of the greatest mughal patrons of India, Shah Jahan. He was by birth joyful and hence named Khurram by his grandfather, Akbar. Upon the death of his father Jahangir, he ascended the royal throne as Shah Jahan or the Emperor of the world. In fact, a painting of him standing on the globe, which all of us too do actually, but in a magnified form of his is still preserved at the Smithsonian Institution. Of his many wives, he loved his third wife the most, Mumtaz. She, on delivering her fourteenth child, Gauhara Begum, died a painful death. Astonishingly, Gauhara lived an unmarried life of seventy five years. Anyways, upon the death of his beloved one, Shah Jahan deeply in remorse, ordered the construction of the greatest and the most splendorous structure on the Jahan, a mausoleum in her name, The Taj Mahal.


Shah Jahan gifted Mahraja Jai Singh a large palace at the center of the city in exchange with the plot he intended for his dream, along the banks of Yamuna, roughly of three acres in the beginning. Interestingly, the scaffold for workers was not the regular bamboo thatches but a building of colossal brick, a replica of the intended tomb! It was feared very badly that the demolition of the scaffold would take years. However the myth goes that Shah Jahan proclaimed that, after the construction, the brick removed by one, would be his. So overnight, the whole structure was easily dismantled by the local peasants.

About twenty thousand men and a thousand elephants and other fauna ensured it building. White marble from Rajasthan,which unfortunately is fading now due to acid rains caused by evolved chemicals due to near by industries, Jade from China, Turquoise from China, Sapphire from Sri Lanka and the list goes awn and awn. Twenty eight types of precious and semi precious stones! Geniuses like Ismail Afandi, Makramat Khan , Lauhori at work, day and night. It's a popular myth that Shah Jahan cut off the hands of all the workers so that they can't replicate his dream. All in all, The Taj Mahal was complete at around 1653 after about twenty years after its summoning, at a whopping expense of about thirty two million rupees!!!


Rightly Shah Jahan himself has said about his structure,

Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory."

concluded Anahita. Arnav asked, "Hey all that is fine. Does something of it explain anything about what is the golden model of it doing here?"

Night # !

"Miracle! This is what has to take place if the country is to be saved! My intelligence tells me that heavy explosives have crossed hands at the Kashmiri borders and have easily as usual escaped our check posts , used dense liquid containers I suppose. No wonder the night duty ones let it off getting bored to open and put their hands into hundreds of oil barrels and checking. Only one barrel would have contained the explosives. The machine would have beeped just for the barrel material itself. Huh! Nowadays offi..."

"Sir..."

"NO AMTE! No leave at all for your wife's sister's co-brother's cousin's mother's death ceremony! Not at all! Wasn't she dead a few days ago for the first time already??"

"No sir that was my wife's sister's second cou..."

"NO! Nowadays officers like you are responsible for all this havoc. We have to face the blame. Added to that oopar waalon ke jhoot chaatna hain. I hate the system. I hate you all."

"We never asked you for being our valentine on the fourteenth of February darling" came a voice from behind.

"KIS MAA..."

"Chill officer !!"

"Sandeep!'

"Yeah...Sandeep Krishnan. The only officer who is permitted to make fun of the great police superintendent Karamjeet Singh." said the tall and handsome man through his deep voice.

"Long time since seeing you Sandeep. Where had you been all these days to?"

"Oh The Wagah"

"Wagah? A tour??"

"Oh its sad dear friend. Its irony that a place of national concern and security has become such a tourist spot that even a naval head is expected to go on a tour to the border."

" Sorry. Then what for? You wanted to establish an oasis naval camp there eh??"

"Oh its a very wonderful prospect! But sadly I had a drier issue attached with my visit. I just had some talks to be done with the border security forces."

"So how was your honeymoon with Bhabhiji??"

"Oh we didn't."

"What?"

"As soon as the marriage, I had to leave for the borders. I had no time to even decide the place of journey. But you know that it's an unspoken agreement one makes when she marries a soldier or a lawyer or a doctor: Duty first, her beauty next"

"He he. Well said."

"But Raksha wanted it here. I thought as you had asked me to come, not from my branch, may be it was a personal get together sort of? So I agreed for her cries to visit the great mausoleum. Oh k... SO? What prompted you to call me here?"

"Oh I didn't! Did I ask you to call him Amte??"

"No sir."

"See?"

"Then Wth! Then who summoned for me?"

"Me"

Night # )

You are a genius Ayan thought being trapped so badly inside the Taj Mahal. The teachings of the madrasa had transformed the innocent boy in him to a terror group rival. He could easily differentiate between the righteous good and bad. Anger was rustling through him as he recalled every step of his plan.

I was lured into this. I should have known that it was so stupid for the old man to hide it so childishly when I went. Why would he tell me about Shankar, the performer of the holy work, if the holy work itself was not told. Shankar doesn't even know to ride a boat! Oh my god...The guns teacher had clearly inquired me about my proficiency at it. He shouted at me as a thief, if I were that, I'd be simply caught by the police and the lives would be saved.The bombs would never be here! I'd never be here! May be they would free me too by swallowing my story. But I wouldn't atleast have had to die in this way! It was all very stupid of me. It's because of me that The Taj will be blasted. I AM THE MUJAHID. I CARRY THE BOMBS. YA ALLAH!

But still, why blast the Taj mahal? It's a pride of the mulk. Anyways, the best thing to be done now is to escape somehow. There seems absolutely no way to get IN the Taj Mahal to escape. Even if I do, I'd still be in it and no use is there going from one room into another. I shall have to go out. Yes! That's the only way.

"Hello, help anybody there?" Ayan cried nearing the door, which he had thought of as his false sense of security just a few moments ago but had turned at trap door a li'l time later. He soon got to know that its in vain to shout. He tried to kick the door. Nothing happened. The room was absolutely empty to even try find a hard thing to use to break the door. He knew he had nothing else to do.

Often we are caught in such helpless situations. We have nothing better to resort than memories to. Ayan did the same: recalled an inspirational story of an old philosopher told to him by his mother once, when he used to sleep on her lap during nights and listen to bed time stories of hers. Tears trickled down the nine year old boy, who had startling resemblances with Krsna, the unknown social seer, but a well known god. He felt rage rush through him when he thought of the mullah and his men who had caused this to him. He had often heard that the traitors' families were burnt in public elsewhere. He didn't want to think of it and lose his nerves but preferred fantasising sleeping on his mother's lap again. This was indeed the best thing a human aspires for. Mullah is inhuman; a haivan, shaitan...

"Ammi , tell me a nice story!"

"You got less marks in your test right?"

"How do you know??"

"Shankar told me. Also that you were very disappointed"

"Yeah...I didnt want to disturb you with it."

"There isnt anything wrong with scoring less beta, but you must have given you heart and soul for it. Listen to this story. You'll understand why."

"Yeah! tell me!"

"Once upon a time, there was a very old philosopher in this village by the name Dhanpat Rai. He had a son, who wasn't good at anything. He earned a living by the sole horse he possessed. Once, the horse got lost in the jungle; it had ran away may be."

"Oh sad..."

"The villagers told the same thing. 'Arre saabji, you had only one horse and that too got lost'. The philosopher replied, 'who knows what is good or bad an incident'. After a fortnight, the horse returned, fetching another twenty five horses at his service."

"Oh wow!"

" 'Arre wah! You got opened a Pandora's box!'. The seer replied,'who knows what is good or bad an incident'. One day when his son went on a ride on a new horse, it went hay wire and pushed him down. He broke a leg."

"Oh no!!"

"When his neighbours queried, the old guy said ,'who knows what is good or bad an incident', again. One not-so-fine day , the neighbour state king attacked our village. This kingdom's ruler wanted all hale and hearty men of the village to war. The philosopher's son, who had lost a leg already, couldn't obviously go. Our kingdom lost the war and all our men died. The lame one, survived. All the people cried in happiness, 'What luck!'. The philosopher, again calmly replied , 'Who knows what is good or bad an incident'...Then the moral of the story is??''

" You never know what is good or bad until the final deciding moment."

"Exactly! Khuda chahe toh sab bhala ho sakta hain. Remember the Hare and the Tortoise story I narrated to you on the other day? It doesn't matter as to who is ahead in a race in the beginning, but it matters as to who wins."

This recapitulation had renewed his strength. I shall win the race. At least in front of god and ammi.

He wanted patience. He awaited a miracle.

Night @ (

"The city of Agra! This is where they must be heading towards!" shouted a clearly angry man in his fifties. He was the deputy commissioner in the London city. The cops there, were expected to be very efficient and sincere. However, this guy was assisting a terror group. He had also managed some subordinate men alongside. After Rihana had escaped, he had ordered a thorough search of the whole house of his where she was captive. Once he was well assured that she was out of his den, he headed straight to the villa, where she was going otherwise his capture. He had missed her there too.

"I was thinking she wouldn't be that efficient to manage to escape with whole of her gang with such short a span. The time I spent in realising that she might have escaped, probably assisted her. Anyways, she knows about the holy work. She definitely would want to stop it. She would have headed towards Agra. David, take us towards Heathrow! Fast!"

They sped along the half filled street.

"Do you know the car's name plate?" asked the anxious officer.
"Of course not."
"What the hell do we do now?"
"Trace a car with six people in it."
''Yeah that seems to be the only option."
"Shoot off"

They raced through the road so fast, breaking a tonne of traffic rules, that within li'l time were a hundred foot away from the car they were searching.

"There they are! Fire! We are the police!"

Bullets started wounding the crimson red car the six were driving. They were dead scared.

"Chris, WHAT IS THIS?"
" WHAT'S WHAT? I INVITED THE GOONS FOR A PARTY!"
"OH SHUT UP. DRIVE FAST!"
"I AM ALREADY"
"THEN WHY ARE THEY CATCHING UP?"
"THEY ARE DRIVING FASTER!!"
"HUH. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?"
"Trick them"
"Trick? What do you mean Arnav?"
"Chris, drive into the lake next to you"
"What? Are you nutters?"
"Yeah I am. NOW!"
"Let's face the Armageddon earlier guys"
"NOW!"
"OK!! here you go"

Chris hesitantly turned the car into the lake. Most of them were thinking that Arnav had indeed gone nuts to suggest something as stupid as this. But Nicole was faking smiles as if telling ''It's OK, after all we are driving into a lake guys, That's it! Big deal eh?". The car motioned into the lake, sliding by the sands.Finally it entered the lake. The car which was coming behind them yet followed. Chris went deep into the lake and to his surprise, he could drive! The car was left behind. The commissioner had come out looking petrified. Everyone was flabbergasted.

"Hhow the hel...?"
"It was you guys, Chris and Jerold"
"Wwhat?"
"Indeed. Do you remember you were trying to make something like this a reality?"
"Yeah, the Wading Van, but we never practically tried the kit! We didn't know where to try! And we predicted it to not work very well in deep waters!"
"Now you are doing it ! "
"??"
"I guessed a danger coming today afternoon and fixed it to the car. It's working because the waterlevels of these lakes are very much lower than child pools. And yeah, this is a shortcut to the Heathrow. The gangsters would think that we were fools, who out of fear and anxious to flee, crazily drove into a lake. They would think we died easily with out them murdering us, seeing us vanish with reference to their bank.They would assume that their sacrifice sacrificed herself and none of us can reveal the world their plan. The holy work would succeed. We'd get rid of them.And yeah, this is a shortcut to the Heathrow. "
Nicole beamed with pride, "Ar, you are a genius!"

Night @ *

"The Taj mahal must be gone" told a man to his assistants. "Shankar has gone from our side to do what is thought to be next to impossible, but shall indeed succeed. He must succeed. Indeed its a difficult situation to visualise but it doesn't actually take much of it eh? I'm sure the training is going on well. Let's go and supervise."

The man moves through long passageways and finally halts at what looked like getting out of a grain silo to enter a village buffer. He saw Shankar and queried.

"Is it going smoothly, son?"
"Yes sir."
"How is she doing? healthy eh?
"Oh yes sir! very much!"
"So I suppose you are feeding her well, timely enough?"
"Of course, sir"
"That's good to hear."
"How's the sail? smooth?"
"Yeah! gliding!"
"Oh excellent! I would rather want her to swim."
"Soon enough, sir."
"Good luck. Good boy, go have some rest dear"

The boy ran through the corridors shouting gaily and disappeared. The man started speaking to his assistant.

"Do you know where we are standing now?"
"Of course, The Red Fort of Agra."
"Yeah. Do you see this piece of mirror?"
''Yeah..."
"Look in it"
"Wow!"
"What do you see?"
"The Taj Mahal!"

"Indeed. Once a guide told me as to why it was placed. Shah Jahan, who was overthrown by his own son Aurangzeb, who rechristened himself the Alamgir, the conqueror of the world, was imprisoned right here. He spent his last years looking at his grand creation through this very reflection and spent eight long years! I wonder what I'd see in here after two days!" grinned the man. His assistant also tried to grin, but couldn't. So took to an expressionless face. Often one is caught in situations where he has to fake an expression, mostly a smile, which he can't. So resorting to this tactic is perhaps, the best thing to be done. He probably had sensed that something else was also brewing in this place of plunders and blunders, the city of Agra.

Night @ &

''It's easy to dodge an elephant, not a fly'',told Arnav responding to Nicole's shock.

"I suspected the room the moment I saw it some years ago. How could it possibly be having such an ancient lock. I convinced myself saying that the house was ancient after all. One day, when I was strolling around in the library, I just thought about going upstairs, to the second floor of the library, where I hadn't been. I climbed there and it appeared as if no one climbed there for decades. I walked through the shelves and found a couple of interesting books.What amused me the most, was the pattern in which the books were arranged. Most of them, were bound red and the not bound ones formed a pattern! A man trying to kiss something. I thought it was vague imagination of mine and went on. I then found most of the books in one row having one common name: William Edwardson. Must have been the private collection of your grandfather. The surname, Edwardson, caught my attention immediately. I remembered about a lecture about the secret keepers by professor Rushmore. The Edwardsons were rumoured to be very prominent secret keepers. Soon, I found out various prized possessions of many of the Edwardsons on the third floor. It was amazing! I was getting closer to see my suspicion shape into reality.

Once, I was going through a book of maps of the colonial India and made a startling observation. The eastern part of the southern peninsula, appeared like a man, kissing the then Ceylon's land! The forehead, nose, lips and the jaw! perfect! I was flabbergasted! No wonder, the library was housed at the south eastern part of the house. The pattern was of the secret symbol! These were used as marks of Confidentiality of Correspondence between the aides and the viceroys. How wondrous. Information from India trying to kiss another land, separated from it by waters. What a perfect symbol to choose for!"

"I immediately, wanted to search for the evil secrets housed here. All the pieces of the zigzag fit into their right places. It was perfect, damn!"


"What was it?"
"Do you remember Nic, the code you told me at the dinner one night?"
"Ana Bahhebak S'ba?"
"Yeah! what was it?"
"The code for the lock!"
"I mean, what did it mean??"
"I love you door!"
"Does it make any sense?"
"Not real sense."
"What is S'ba in Egyptian?"
"Door!"
"S'ba is a homonym!"
"What??"
"It also means a star!"
"I love you star. That isn't better either."


"It is. When this flashed to me, I recalled that when I'd been into your room for the first and the last time till then, I had noticed only the portrait along with a giant star on the ceiling! So with due apologies I managed to get into the room once again when you were out of the town, two years later after the first nightmarish entry. I searched the room carefully, to discover a replica of the giant star underneath the portrait at the centre of the room. I didn't know the meaning of it then, but later discovered it. This is why probably your grandmother was locked up. She got to know of a secret that only current secret keepers must be aware of. May be she threatened her husband to reveal it to the outside world. So he locked her up and beat her till his death. The shock was enough for the poor lady who had grown old by then to reveal it to your parents. Thus the secret keeping ended , however the secret survived"

"What was the secret?"

"I then went near the minuscule star and tried to punch it. It didn't work. It was made of rubber, strangely. I didn't dare damage it. So I went away that night. On another tour of mine to the library, I thought I should ponder a bit more about the pattern formed by those multicolored books. As the shelf was very huge, I took the help of a ladder lying there. I was fascinated by the kiss of India, which I had never noticed, due to my hating of geography, especially graphs. I wondered how wondrous that book could be which adorned the center spot. To my surprise, the book wasn't that interesting, what lay behind, took me by awe. The royal seal of the Edwardsons, with this symbol on it. The Confidentiality of Correspondence."

"Wow!"

"It became more awe able when I rotated the seal. It opened! A glass bottle slid into my hand, containing a viscous liquid. Soon I found out that it was a hydrocarbon. Natural rubber, containing hydrocarbons could easily be dissolved with this. I immediately knew what to do with the golden fluid. I went to the room one night, emptied the contents on the rubber star on the floor. It fizzed sort of and finally I could put my gloved hand inside the narrow hole and retrieve something. I'd got the secret that the Edwardsons protected for such a long time. I had it in my hand now"

"What was it???"

"The iron cylinder when pressed with the seal, revealed a golden model of The Taj Mahal"

Night @ ^

"Good bye" a man told to Shankar, as he left with a red bag in his hand.
"Red, is the symbol of the kumkum, a sacred symbol for security. It is also the colour of blood, a symbol of massacre. We hope for the latter."
"We shall surely succeed sir, this time"
"Hope so. No one would suspect us on a Vaikuntha Ekadasi!"
"Yes. But what is the plan? Is it secure? fool proof?"
"Of course, as the truth that the Taj Mahal would be blasted in a couple of hours."
"What is the plan?"
"Simple. It's easy to dodge an elephant, not a fly."

Night @ %

Oh my god! ya allah, save me.

Ayan had entered a very ancient looking room. He was feeling like a man about to be hung, but the sentence postponed. He knew that the mullah's men would anytime enter and finish him off. The Taj was not going to be saved. Thousands would be killed. His once best friend Shankar , would cause it. He thought it was an irony. Once the temple priest had told him that the linga in the temple was of the Shankara. Sham karoti iti.One who does good. One who is a layakarta. The destroyer of evil. He now had a friend, named same, but deeds opposite. He actually did sankara, the sin. Sankaro narakaayaiva.

He knew it was in vain, but Ayan locked the door to gain a false sense of security. He looked around. He saw strange symbols and cobwebs everywhere around. He wondered what was in so many rooms next to the one he currently inhabited. Why were these closed always?
Had I committed any sin? What was wrong in protecting lives of people. Is it indeed worth to die for seeking so? Isn't the fakir a kafir? Am I really a kafir?


He suddenly heard the door click. Terror's fluid filled his body's vessel.He was ready for the death. He would indeed be a martyr this time. But a strange feeling arouse in few moments in him. No one had barged it! Did he have an illusion?

Something suddenly struck to him. He noticed a letter tucked to the door knob. He pulled it and opened.

"Dear Ayan.

Yes, you read it right!
Kafir hone par mubarak ho. I noticed the signs of you being a blood traitor the moment I came to escort you. I knew that you wouldn't budge either to devotion or by fear. Your father, was a weak one. He was easily trapped. But you, not.

You showed the traits of a traitor the moment you entered the madrasa. You managed to listen to the conversation of mine with the holy organisation. You managed to stealth the envisioned future of the Taj Mahal out of my office. You came to the actual premises, got to the boat, heard the mission from my brothers and escaped with the holy bag to save the lives of people.

This what you think Ayan! It was me who asked the kids to manage to send you to my chamber and had you hear my fake conversation. It was me who enacted slipping the graph in a hurry , so that you would manage to steal it. It was me who set the dung path, the boat, the conversation. I wouldn't be speaking anything that serious in my office O boy! Do I look foolish enough to hide something when you entered? I could have simply placed it in a book or reversed it. You had no guts to see it. Do you think that a hindu would be used for such a holy job? It requires atleast some one with royal blood. May it be filthy. You were right at your guess Ayan. Shankar was not the chosen mujahid. It was you!

It was you who was supposed to do the holy work. If you were alive, you were no use of to the mulk, rather a harm. Now you are so useful! Your righteousness ditched you. Your gun master, simply enacted calling for help. Our men working in the Taj would have locked your room by now. We had to get it opened for you yesterday. No CCTV deactivation was required, nor the Secular party's help, no risk.Now you stand it the monument with a bag full of highly intense explosives. The room is locked ; the area rarely visited. The backside CCTV s would have recorded your face clearly. No one else from the madrasa was there! After two days, when the traitor structure is blasted, you are gone , hundreds are gone, it is gone.

A nine year old muslim boy was tricked by a hindu terror group to blast The Taj Mahal. Enjoy the holy work, the chosen mujahid!

Alvida. Good bye"

Night @ $

The door flung open. The Sticking Six rushed through the ancient villa and boarded their car. The time was very less and work, a lot. Chris had allies at the Heathrow airport and had booked six tickets to Delhi. The plane was scheduled at 7 pm. The time then was about quarter past five.

"We would require about an hour to reach there, guys. And we need to wait for the check in. Hope everything goes fine." said Jerold, who was driving the car.

"What was it about, Arnav, you said that you knew the cause for the supposed blast?" asked Nicole.
"Okay... I think the time suffices enough for the whole story to digest in, Nic."
"Whole story? What do you mean? I expected a phrase as an answer huh!''
"OK shall I proceed?"
"Start off"
"Before that, tell me something about your grandparents, mother's side, Nic."
"What??"
"Please"


"Well I loved my grandmother, Isabella, a lot as I grew up much in the Villa with her, as my parents were in Russia and my father was transferred often. That's the reason I have her portrait in her room and often spend time with her. That's it"
"What about your grandfather, Nic?"
"What's with him?"
"You didn't mention him"
"Yeah I didn't! Because I hated him! He beat my grandmother at her prime age for simply no reason! He kept her locked in that very room of her's till he died! My parents freed her later. It was a few years later that I was born. I haven't even seen him. Thank god! Even otherwise he would be dead by now, by the hands of mine"


"So you know nothing of him? absolutely nothing?"
"Well I know one thing for surety and alone, his name was William Edwardson "
"Yeah the Edwardsons! Didn't you ever wonder why you had so much of wealth? Such a good villa? lavish life? librar..."
"They earned it...hard earned it"
"Yeah may be. But may be you don't know that Edwardsons were one of the chief british aides for the then Indian viceroys"
"What?"
"The British, like all the other colonial powers, wanted to rob the then richest piece on earth, India. Once the East India Company was established, they could easily gain command over her. The governor generals came to be known as the viceroys. The kingdom had expanded.A huge subcontinent was theirs. The viceroys on amassing a large amount of wealth by crook, stealth or war retained what they required for themselves and disposed the rest to their homeland, Britain. This is how Britain started getting richer. These viceroys, had confidential aides who would take care of their belongings, wealth and act as their secret keepers."

"Secret keepers?"

"Yes. The British not just smuggle money and kind , but also knowledge. They were afraid and jealous of the ancient knowledge that Indians themselves were unaware of. They had started to make startling discoveries. From the excavators of the Mohenjodaro to the great philologists like Max Muller. The west which considered themselves superior and deemed the east as in dark, then had discovered that when they were roaming around with barely any food or clothes, the east was solving complex mathematical equations. They were startled to see the similarity between their culture and this one, which appeared as though gave birth to theirs. Unsettled, they decided to do something that was mankind's biggest sin"

"What?"

"Destroy the knowledge you can. Manipulate those which you cant. An official wrote to the London assembly that the only way to conquer India was by weakening her roots: knowledge. The system of education of theirs is the root cause for their success and empowerment. If replaced with ours, we can gain control over them." They indeed did it. Highly knowledged people were imported from the west to manipulate the ancient texts and give it a different meaning. A negative one, which would make an Indian guilty of his glorious past. The texts were mistranslated and given with only superficial translations. The actual texts were transported under the tag of research. A meeting was called for and a new theory of Aryans was found."


"What do you mean by found? That's the fact ain't it?"

"Precisely this is what they wanted. A theory which would subdue the Indians under their own eyes. A theory where people from the west, Spaniards, come and occupy that land and defeat the native Indians and send them down south. They use the knowledge they got from the west, their homeland and write the Vedas, the ultimate knowledge."

"Isn't that so? I've heard that the north and south Indians are complexioned differently"

"Indeed. That is not because of the Aryan invasion. Don't you see similarities between the sinhalese, south indians, native africans, native australians and the native south americans? That is because, all these places formed parts of the then Gondwanaland . The peninsular India joint to the northern half, due to tectonic disturbances. The Indians who have a very well maintained track of history , not even have a mention of this war. They indeed use the word arya, which just meant noble. The way we would address a gentleman. The only great attack given much prominence is the attack by the sakas from the eastern asia, the mongols, which is even kept track today in their dating system as the saka, the current one being of the Salivahana. "

"But didn't Adolf Hitler call himself an Aryan? And even use a symbol of theirs, the swastika?"

"Indeed! The west was already under the sway of the east long before Hitler. Hitler was long after the Aryan theory was coined. As my professor said, we indeed owe them a lot"

"So what's all this got to do with secret keeping?"

"Yeah. The british after destroying the proofs, dint want it lost completely, so shipped small tokens of truth. The possessors of them were these secret keepers; generally the aides"

"You mean my grandfather was a secret keeper?"

"Sort of... Infact way behind him your ancestors were. The Edwardsons."

"But I never saw anything! Nothing secretive nor mysterious!"

"Indeed you did. You do go there. Your grandmother resides there"

"Oh my god!"

Night @ #

"Start!" Ayan patted the boat. He, being a villager, clearly had driven across the streams of Yamuna many times.He drove it across to reach the other bank. He was shocked as to how well organised was everything for Shankar. A quick walk lead him to a huge tent. He heard a hustling noise coming out through the entrance.He tried to hear it hard.

"The material has arrived. It took a while for it to pass the Kashmiri check posts . The boy must be arriving anytime now.The plan is that the moment he comes in, he shall see this bag, which is red and he knows which, therefore pick it up and take it. He then goes to the mahal and places it there in a sealed door which is opened specifically today on the orders of the Secular Party, and locks it. The stringent security measures have been diluted and the CCTVs deactivated till he is well outside.This when done, the time arrives, about two days later, on the day of the hindu festival Vaikuntha Ekadasi, december the twenty eighth. It's celebrated to express their wish to ascend to their god's abode.They imitate the ascent too. Let's actually send them there!Well off you go! So shall I. The boy will come here alone and collect it. Those are the orders which we have received".

The beautiful day post Christmas, meant that hundreds of tourists would have assembled to get a glimpse of the tomb symbolising epitome of love. However, Ayan knew that it meant nothing but bloodshed for them. Now he'd understood why they wanted to blast it. These people considered Paksitan as their mulk. They didn't care if it belonged to their religion. They wanted to scrap India off its pride. He recalled that the bombs had come from outside Kashmir according to the voice which spoke so ruthlessly from the insides of the huge tent. He knew that even if it were an islamic tomb and a dargah, most people who visited were Hindus.India was full of them. Naturally, most of the tourists anywhere there comprised a large faction of theirs. So the jihadis wanted to kill them and perform the holy war on a holy day of the Hindus.

Ayan knew that he had no other go. He had to steal the bag. He had to run with it somewhere.May be give the police? What if they catch me alone? Even having been hammered by these questions, he brisked in and grabbed the red bag. It was heavy; very heavy for his slender hands. He winced with pain. But his mind didn't budge. He raced out of the tent and ran into the broad sunlight.

It was a wonderful evening. The sun appeared prepared to swim in Yamuna. If he hadn't had this task to be accomplished ASAP, he would definitely had fancied wading across the stream. Now he knew it was of course, impossible. The tourists who visited this splendour, hardly ever cared about the other bank where he was currently in. The tourists were contended with their photography from the obverse side of the monument and its insides. Some curious ones bothered a quick look at the reverse of it and the little ones enjoyed the stream.

Little did they know that Shah Jahan, the builder of this building of eternal love ever fancied an identical tomb being built in black marble, for himself, on the other side of the Taj across yamuna.This was where Ayan was standing and knew its importance. Myth holds it that after commissioning its construction, Shah Jahan was overthrown by his own son Aurangzeb and thus his dream remained as one.The proof for this was thought to be the ruined black marble here. However, later excavations showed that it was white marble, blackened. However, later when a part of the Mahtab bagh, the moonlight garden was reconstructed , a clear reflection of the mahal could be seen. That was of the shadow mausoleum Shah Jahan wanted to build: telling the world aloud that He dint leave his wife alone even after the death, he was right behind her, as her shadow, in the black mausoleum.

Drawing his attention back, Ayan sprinted to the boat and started getting to the other bank. The clear water flowing made him think about the history she had witnessed. The glory she had recorded down times.The gory she had recorded down times.As soon as he stepped there, a sudden fear rushed through him. What if I'd be caught? Nah I don't care. I want to do the actual holy work: save lives of hundreds.

His instinct was actually true. Immediately he heard yells."Catch him! a thief!"
He turned back.His teacher who trained him with guns was screaming from the other side of the stream. He was terrified. He knew he had no other go. He would be killed...

But something rushed through him which stiffened his spines. He thought of allah. Ya allah!

He ran near the mausoleum. He went near rows of walls of red stone. He was startled. Even after so many visits, he had never managed a clear view at this. He wondered as to how the whole building was white, but only this part of it, red. He saw that all of the doors and windows, most of them sinking in the ground already, were cemented. He was dead. But he saw that one of the doors looked better than the others. He knew it was time to try some luck. This had to be either the luckiest or whackiest day of his life. He looked up, prayed once again and smashed the door. The door flung open.

Night @ @

"Shocked like hell am I! " exclaimed Arnav, at Rihana's story.

"But why would they want to explode something that is getting so much fame to their own religion?'' asked Jerold.

"I don't know!"replied Rihana innocently.

"Well I think I know" said Arnav.

"What??" screeched Chris.

"Tell us" ordered Anahita.

"There is no time! Are you guys nuts? It'll take no time for that gang to arrive here.We can't take police support too as they are involved in it."

"Then what do we do? Hand over her to them?''

"Hell no!! We need to go to a safer place."

"Where can we go? He's the deputy commissioner.Jesus knows how many more biggies are involved."

"We can't even tell them about the blast plan. The Indian police can't be directly contacted through the embassy by us commoners. The british police turned unsafe. We can't let the Taj Mahal blast and kill thousands of tourists!"

"What can we do now? Save Rihana? or save the heritage site? With all that, you will be losing your assignment too Arnav in all the hassle''.

"Well there appears to be only one solution for everything. The best place for us, is inside the Taj Mahal. Let's start''

Night @ !

"Blast the Taj Mahal! Why do they want to do something like that?" rushed through the mind of Ayan, who had escaped from the clutches of the mullah and had fled towards the Taj Mahal. He had known that something deadly was cooking, but hadn't anticipated this. He had got the answer for his question as to why Shankar wouldn't mind help blast it. He was a Hindu. This was a nice opportunity for Shankar to destroy a wondrous Islamic monument. But had he judged his own friend so wrongly? Why would he want to do anything so cruel? Was he forced ?

He recalled how he had tricked the moulvi to reveal him the holy work.When he went to the moulvi's chamber last time, he noticed him hiding something under the table at his arrival. During the conversation, he had pretended that his books had fallen down and carefully shoved his hands under the table and slid a paper he got hold of in one of his books. Then he had fled. On his way out of the chamber, he got a look at a terrific graphic of a blasted Taj Mahal. He was motionless for a split second. Yet he managed a sprint. As it was lunch time to the madrasa workers, it was easier.

As he reached the coveted tomb, the familiar look of the place he often came to on week offs with friends or family or alone, had faded. It seemed to be begging him for life. He thought, I shall save you. A moment later, something very strange caught him. He was sure that this area was free of cow dung. It was limited only to his house's vicinity.The politicians portrayed as if the whole of India was extremely tidy by maintaining such places well. The tourists however, had to endure a travel from the clean airport to the clean Taj Mahal vicinity through an extremely clean road! They knew the truth.

He was tempted to follow the path traced by the dung. He did follow it. He was shocked to see where it lead.It lead to an old tent well behind the Taj. It lead him to the banks of river Yamuna. He found that they terminated at the end of the bank. It had a boat tied there along with a tiny notice stuck." Welcome Shankar". Ayan was shocked like hell.

Night @ )

"Got you!" shouted Jerold as he caught Rihana with his hands.
"Oh! It was you? I thought it was the rogues again! Thank god".
"Come on. Let's go in".

"RIHANA!!" shouted Nicole and hugged her,who had returned from her university where she pursued her second course, as Jerold and she entered the villa.Arnav who had plans of telling Nicole the truth had decided to save it for later after getting know of the kidnap of Rihana.After finishing her course in Asian history, Rihana had parted with her friends and the villa and left to Pakistan to report for her work. This Christmas, she wanted to visit her friends again. She, thus had left for London.

" We never expected that the reunion of The Sticking Six would ever be so grave. What exactly happened? How did you manage to escape?" asked Anahita.

"As I went to Pakistan, I got to get into a job of a news reporter. I , having deeply studied Islam, its Koran and the holy hadiths as well as the asian history, covered various enlightening programs on the true meaning of jihad, kafir, fidayeen et cetera. The extremists, not liking it , called me an outlaw and some second degree organisations ruled a fatwa against me. Amidst all this I wanted to visit you guys and left. Soon after I left the airport , my cab took a wrong curve and they managed to kidnap me. They wanted to sacrifice on this Bakr Eid. "

"Wwhat?" cried Nicole.
"Fishy ain't it? They could have done the same in Pak".
"Perhaps, they wanted to do it clean. It's difficult to get caught in here right? Who the hell would suspect a sacrifice of a muslima in the capital of England? That too in a deputy commissioner's office?
"What? How the hell is that possible?"
"It was possible wasn't it? Well they are actually doing something more terrible!"
"Is that possible?"
"YEAH. The guy who was looking after me, tipped me off with this thinking I'd be murdered anyways and to get my veins rushing. However I escaped. They plan to do something so terrible that they'd kill thousands at a time!"
"The Jihad?"
"Sort of"
"What are they planning to do?"
"Well, in forty eight hours, blast the Taj Mahal"

Night ! (

That's it, it would be if I run. I'll meet Shankar sometime later. Ayan looked at the moulvi as if puzzled and said
"So, you are not telling me what the holy work is eh?"
"Of course not!''
"Okay... I' ll hurry to my class back"
"You better"

Ayan soon realised that going to Shankar would mean walking freely into the mouth of death. He would be got captured by Shankar if Shankar was the Mujahid. He was utterly bewildered as to how a Hindu mujahid be a possible creation. After his classes one day he went to the Moulvi. He, by now had gained enough trust by people and all of them thought that he was a true jihadi.

"Sir, How is there a hindu jihadi?''
"Good question Ayan. Actually, the nature of the holy work is such that a Hindu would want to do it more than us!"
"What?"
"Yes! We actually asked your great friend to do it, through our insider in his community"
"Oh...Thank you sir". Ayan left the cabin.

What? How on earth is this possible? Anyways I know that anything holy here is unholy in reality. I must stop it. Oh!! I did succeed in my plans. I now know what the holy work is ! Here I go! Old man, Got you!"

Night ! *

''OH MY GAWD!'' had shouted a clearly shocked Jerold, looking at Nicole who had returned from her party.Each member of the villa had the duplicate of the main key for it.

"Wat the..."
"Enough guys! This is what I deserve. I should have had never let you all in"
"I'm sorry Nic...But..."
"Enough dint I say? I have no problem with these oafs. I can't believe you could do it Arnav!"
"Listen to me please"
"Listen to what? YOU came into the room I strictly asked you to not enter, Arnav!"
"Yeah BUT THERE WAS NOTHING DAMN INTERESTING HERE NIC" shouted Chris.
"DID I EVER GUARANTEE YOU THAT MR. HOLMES? It's my gran's room. I loved her. I grew up with her. I spend some precious time with her here. She is here. I know that. Dint you think as to how the room was so neat and tidy when you entered? If it held any unexplored secrets, would it be so clean?"
"Ohh! Your gran's ghost got us here then??" asked Arnav. Nicole burst out.
"HOW DARE YOU? You make fun of her?"
"Please listen to me Nicole". Arnav recounted the whole story of Bi Xian. Perplexed, Nicole turned to Chris and Jerold, who appeared even more perplexed.

"It was one of your pranks eh guys?"
"Well we just initiated it. But it backfired!"
"What?"
"We actually set a vibrator into the Chinese brush and inserted it with a speaker with prerecorded timed voice modulations of the ghost. It was programmed to say 'Arnav' when asked about who shall enter the room. We wanted to enjoy him trying to get in. But the game turned real and we got haunted! The ghost asked Chris to open the door to the room it stayed in ! We went in that's why! We knew Arnav dint know the code, so he wdnt open it. But WE opened it later huh!"

"Well that was the twist in the tale guys. The moment you invited me for the game, I knew something was boiling. I went into your room when you were lighting the candles. I studied science too! I simply reprogrammed it". Jerold and Chris look bummed enough to start liking history. Arnav had also tricked them to admit everything by querying about the ghost.

" That was darn brainy Arnav! They deserved it ! Look at their faces! A back prank! But how did you manage the Egyptian Jerold?"
"Oh that? A girl was shouting to me that at a museum. I asked her what it was and she told me. Brilliant eh??"

"What about the translation to door?"
"Well I guessed it...to convince this bloody oaf. "

This incident had added an all new dimension for Nicole's love for Arnav. She had loved smartness in simplicity and he had it. She dint mind his forgetfulness; rather had she enjoyed it.
The favours that Arnav had received from her made him tighten his lips about he not loving her. He could never gather the courage.Tonight however, after speaking to Chris , after more than two winters after the incident, he had gathered courage to reveal the harsh truth to her. He had thought that's it.

Night ! &

Run... Or else you are trapped for eternity. It was a hard escape. He was a fool. The constables of Britain are like Pakistan's too! They were loafing around, wow! Now it's just a matter of little time that I'm freed. It was a hell dwell.

But how can they do it? This is cruel! No one can even guess that they are the culprits. This has to be stopped. But what can I do? I can't go the police! I may be hunted down! But before that I need to see them. Tell them about the evil plan. YES. I WILL STOP IT.

O my god! OH MY GAWD!

Night ! ^

"Yes! That's it dear! You are a genius. Allah would be very pleased with you." shouted a man wearing a long jubba and a pajama. Ayan was not just tutored about Jihad and its advantages but also trained for the holy army, Fidayeen.This day, he was being skilled at gunning. His consignment was to gun down hen, which were freed from their cages, at a long distance.

"Allah is pleased with death?", asked the nine year old.
"Allah is pleased with righteous death".

Ayan had so often heard the word righteous attached to negatively sounding words after coming to this place that he had understood: anything prefixed with righteous, should not be questioned. Because, there IS no answer for it. After hearing moulvi's call, he was restless to know about the holy work and the mujahid he talked about. He had been off late receiving a lot of special attention and training which made him wonder the most improbable. Was I the chosen mujahid? He would think that he is too young for the job and feel false security. He knew that elsewhere, mujahids were younger, they could yet gun down flying airplanes using advanced kalashnikovs. He had finally made his mind ask about it.

"What is the holy work?"
"Wwhat? oh you mean jihad?"
"Specifically tell me! Who is the chosen mujahid?"

Immediately his instructor dragged him to the moulvi. The moulvi simply smiled when they barged into his chamber without a word of excuse or permission.He signalled the instructor to leave. After a gap of five minutes, the moulvi broke the silence that had housed the chamber for a minute till then.

"You want to know whether you are the chosen mujahid eh?"
"Yes"
"Well Ayan, Don't you think we would have chosen some one better? Not a nine year old?"
"May be. Then tell me who the mujahid is then."
"Well..."
"I knew! I knew it was me! I was given all this training to kill others and kill myself ?
I'm not doing anything for you!"
"It's not you dear. It's Shankar"

Ayan recited to himself run.

Night ! %

''Start! run for her!'' shouted Arnav as he was looking a stunned Jerold. "If he tries to break in or something, Nicole would go nutters! Let's help him!". They ran upstairs, to the second floor, along the long corridor.They found Chris sitting idly there.

"Hey! We have the key!"
"What? but...anyways give it !"
"We can't give. We can only tell! You know how forgetful Arnav is, excluding emotional stuff. Do you remember Arnav what Nic was telling you about Ana the other night?"
"Yeah. She told that Ana was her online friend from India who wanted to get out of there and had joined a course of management at The Imperial ; arriving here soon"
"yeah after that?"
"After?"
"Wasn't she shouting ''Ana Bahhebak Sba Arnav!'' when she was leaving the table?"
"Yeah...But what's with that? Its Ana with her surname!"
"She's Indian!"
"May be a migrant?"
"She's Anahita Avasthi!!"
"wth??"
"Ana Bahhebak is Egyptian for I love you! And s'ba in Egyptian implies a door! That's the key! She was telling you that she loves you through it!"
"What with that now?"
"Mr.Idiot Chris, There is no key for the lock! It opens by a code.It requires one!"

They went near the dusty door and saw the huge lock. It had many slots to punch characters unto it. It was a fourteen digit lock. The moment they set the key sequence as Ana Bahhebak Sba, the lock clicked open. They pushed the door and it swung open.To their surprise the room was absolutely empty except for a portrait which looked ancient.The ceiling had an enormous star on it.

"What the hell? Nic barred us to enter this stupid empty room with an oldee's portrait?" scowled Jerold.
A voice hissed from behind "Yes"

Night ! $

"The key! How shall I open it?"called a man in his fifties looking at a closed iron door.First of all the window is hanging.What a stupid house did I get to live in.He ran along the lone dusty corridor filled with odd artifacts which lead him to a tiny room. In there, he picked up the receiver of a phone kept on a dirty table.

"Salam Alaikum sirji. I'm not..."

"Listen to me first.I have a happy news. I know that you always convey sad stuff.Wait for me to complete.The holy work is about to be accomplished! The god's servant has informed me about the training. He has chosen the holy man too to complete the task. No wonder the police cant trace us, a deputy commissioner's phone at my service. About the lack of sources for funds, it's no big a problem. A middle east country has come forward. It respects the holy work. Didn't I say man power too was easy? We did manhandle people. You had asked whether we would use physical threats. I had told you god would definitely save us. Indeed! These fools accept anything under the name of jihad. We threatened them with god as the weapon! They budged. Yes we are half done! well begun!''

"But sir, I indeed have bad news. I have lost the key to the trap door!"
"What??"
"I can't open the door now!"
"Where did you leave it the last time?"
"I forgot"
"Well its fine. we wanted to sacrifice the traitor on bakr eid right? She would die earlier."
"Hey allah!! I remembered it !"
"Where?"
"I kept it next to me when I was freeing the girl for easing her to eat food. I walked out with out it!"
"What??"
"And I saw the window hanging outside! She escaped! Locked the door to keep me confused enough for a long time to get out of the garden!"
"Does she know about the holy work?"
"Hell yes! I fed her everything to make her feel more disgusted! I dint care as she was about to be sacrificed"
"You are a bastard! START! RUN FOR HER!!"

Night ! #

Is there a danger coming my way?, had thought Arnav as he pondered about Nicole's offer.It was just two years and two months earlier than he had decided to tell her what he thought of her, had she made this offer. He had worked for roughly three months with the travel firm.He was puzzled about how a strange girl came suddenly to him and asked about shifting to her house. How could she ask an utter stranger that? He knew he was ecstatic about the offer but was also contemplating about its negatives.Finally, he had decided to call her.

"Hullo"
"This is Arnav Salim"
"Yeah tell me Arnav what did you make your mind about?"
"I'm coming"
"Oh wow!...thanks a lot honey"
honey?? these girls!!
"When shall I be leaving? I have a bit of savings, so ticketing shouldn't be a problem''
"Next week.Would that do?"
"Yeah.Next sunday I'd be there. It's Christmas that day"
"Yeah! bye ! take care"
"Bye...thanks a tonne"

He did finally had landed at the Villa on the Christmas.She and her friend Rihana had welcomed him.

"So what course did you opt for at the University of London?"
"Asiatic history! Rihana is also from Asia you see; born and brought up in Pakistan."
"Oh...so I may be of some help for you."
"Yeah! you are ahead by an year!"
"But you ll be ahead by an year by the end of two years"
"Lol...doesnt actually matter eh? You can do loads of findings by then"
"hmm...Let's see...by the way how are you managing without any assistance in a new countr...Ouch!! what was that?"
"What what??"
"I was electrocuted!"
"But how?"
" Ha ha...We did it!"
"YOU TWO! GET OUT !! Look Arnav...these two form the answer for your question.My mom asked these neighbour guys, whom she thought were well mannered to move in to assist us. huh! well mannered ? I hate 'em! Anyways meet Chris and Gerald"

"Look at his beard Nic !! He grew it thinking it would impress the local girls! p*** off Gerold!"
"Lolz Rihana...Jara in Sanskrit is old age...so you'd better call him Jerold, the doubly old!"
said Arnav.

"Will you guys stop it? Its too silly a thing to say. Anyways let's start the feast!"
"Yeah toast in the name of Arnav! The newly got in cub"
"Shut up will ya??"
We meant tig..."

It was a wonderful evening for Arnav. After many months he was having good, edible food.
The house he was present in, appeared very strange: ancient and weird. He didn't think of it much and liked the room he was offered.Clean and cozy.He often went to other floors of the house.But never wanted to barge in any of them. He was strictly warned not to enter the last room on the second floor by Nicole.He didn't wonder why, thought it contained some personal stuff.What he liked the most was the ancestral library that Arnav was promised of.He spent loads of time in there. Ancient manuscripts and scrolls to the Da Vinci code of Nicole's, it had it all. The library, located at the south eastern side of the villa, was three storeyed and appeared like a small scale version of the Library of Congress.Chris and Jerold studied science at the Imperial College of London. They never bothered to come in here, which whatsoever no way contained any prank books.

After a fortnight after his arrival, one new moon night when Nicole and Rihana were away for a party, Chris and Jerold persuaded Arnav to play the Chinese spirit calling game, the Bi Xian.Arnav knew that it translated to the spirit of the brush.The breezes and deathly silence made one feel the forthcoming of spirits.They had switched of the lights and lit candles.Chris held a paper and a chinese brush and called for the spirit of the brush. The brush started vibrating as the myth said.Scared, they asked the spirit to leave.The check for the departure of the spirit was to ask spirit are you there? The answer came, yes! They asked it what it needed.It said


"I was happily dwelling in the last room on the second floor.You disturbed my peace. I want you to escort me there again"
"Who?"
"Chris"
"Wwhat???"
"Or else prepare yourself to become bloodless you tyrant!"
"Chris, may be the game was true.Go with it"whispered Jerold.
"But what about the condition Nic laid upon??"
"Damn it...We'll re lock it!!"
"Off you go!"

Chris started climbing the stairs. He was hell afraid. What if Nic finds that I'd been into the room? She' ll kill me! How did the plan backfire? Were there real ghosts inhabiting the planet? Why did it name me ? With all that in his mind he walked along the spooky corridors of the second floor. Though he had switched on the lights he was feeling like walking into a black hole.He went near the door.Then it struck to him...the key! how shall I open it?