JIGSAW

Prologue: A short fictitious story of justice on ‘Bhopal Tragedy’. Warren Anderson was CEO of Union Carbide at time of accident when one of the pesticide plants had leaks which lead to the catastrophe.

Anderson was squinting into an ebon desolate room. He couldn’t recollect how he abode this room. His dizziness added to woes of having to gaze through an ostensibly barren pitch dark area. Then a sudden bliss surged through him as his apprehensive glance fell on a phosphoresce red-cross ‘X’ behind him. But it elapsed in few seconds.

Anderson now vividly recollected the events of night. Yesterday was the moment he was longingly awaiting for. Finally he was acquitted of all the charges. It was his night to celebrate. He opened champagne and drank through all night till unconsciousness creep him and fell asleep. Suddenly he was woken-up by trotting of foot-steps. He was now staring at a swine veiled silhouette which swiftly raced towards him but his drunken reflexes were too obsolete to respond.

For long time now Anderson was glaring at incandescent eerie cross on the wall. Abrupt turn of events were too off-tangent for him to make any sense off. He was still soothing himself that it was a dream. Soon next morning things will be normal and could relish the judgment which was in his favor. Defeat was the word he loathed and it urged him to see the end of this night-mare if incase it was.

Anderson was too drugged to walk and murky room was not of much help. He now fuelled with despair lunged forward and pounded his fist on the only visible area of room. To his aghast a tumultuous noise engulfed and reverberated from the walls of room. The bricks on which cross mark was present now briskly glided inwards. Flashing and blinking white lights now filled each dark corner of room.

From the moment Anderson woke-up he was hoping for light, so that he could at least see at the coffin where he was being buried alive. His wish was now fulfilled but he was not ready for the bright luminescent streaks of white light which were being reflected from each corner, as his vision was blurred for few minutes. Finally he was able to have a look at the room where he was laid down after being abducted by a boar masked person. He still didn’t have any clue since when he has been trapped in this room.

Anderson was hopeful of night-mare soon turning out to be a fairy tale and with that optimism he was staring at the walls of room for a door to exit room probably his dream. Instead his eyes were awestruck by horrifying visions of human carcass, mutilated parts of human body and blood stained walls and tiles on floor. His eyes were now ominously glued to the corpses as he attempted to take a stalk of situation in amidst of a babbling noise.

All his senses were now tuned to the gurgling shrunken old manly voice noise from a sunken pumpkin like thick white colored obnoxious bareheaded face with wide popped out ruby marble eyes, cheeks covered with red color spiraling, a long acutely slanted sharp nose and puppetry jaw with scarlet colored broom like lips, giving the figure an abominable look. He could hear a cynical cold voice from masked figure which he realized been projected on the wall from a projector which was above him.

“Anderson, let us play a game. For long you have squelched the voices of injured and disdainfully piled their agony. Now it’s your time for redemption. On the wall in front of you is a device for your freedom. Within seconds this room will be filled with noxious gas with which you have killed others. The device needs a password for authentication. You have kept everyone in dark for long; your admission of number of victims will pave a way to your freedom. Decision is yours.”

Before Anderson could get the grip of gravity of situation he was in a gas started to leak through the room as he was able to smell the pungent odor. With realization of his life being at stake despairingly started shouting

“Who are you?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

He paused for a second hoping a reply. But the room was instead filled with the echoes of his groan for help. He knew there was no time for him to mourn for abject response. Now with a squeaky and a louder tone

“Is anyone here? Please save me.”

“Help me.”

“injured….agony….redemption”

Anderson began to mutter three words abortively. “I have been proven innocent then why the redemption? Its supreme court of the land which has acquitted me for God sake” started murmuring in a scornful way. “It was an accident, I didn’t sabotage it. Why would I ever. It’s me who lost a fortune. I accord to fact that there were suggestions, warnings. But they were minor accidents and probably sabotaged by rivals for defaming me. It was a fruitless attempt by them to dethrone me. It was a battle and I had to win it at any cost. I was made to pay a humongous package for victims. Those poor made a fortune of it. They were paid more than they would have earned being alive” spoke with an authoritative manner with to support his actions.

“admission of number of victims will pave a way to your freedom” were resonating his ears as he move forward to decode the number-lock. “What could be the figure?” Last he heard it was around 8000, Govt. figure was around 2200. “What could he meant by victims? Dead? Injured? Suffered?” It’s a code he needed an exact number. “There was never an exact figure and never will be, generations have suffered, number of victims piled by every week” He thought with a fading hope as his futile guesses were all going in vain. He was now fruitlessly staring at it as dense toxic clouds begin to fill the room.

Gas was suffocating Anderson; his eyes turned crimson color with burning sensation. He was fighting for each gasp of air as he begin to plead probably for last time

“Please Save me. Forgive me.”

“I’m sorry. Help me”

In splash of seconds the prime and auspicious moments of his life have flashed and dwindled through smoky air. It was yesterday when he thought he fought his last battle. But faith had other things in stored. He was scornful of losing. Within seconds Anderson felt to the ground unconsciously. Immediately the silhouette figure he has seen at his home entered the room and sliced a jigsaw skin piece from his body and left him to die a slow, painful, somber death just like innumerable others suffered on Dec 3rd,1984 in Bhopal.