Scandal At Scandal Point

By Minakshi Chaudhry

Minakshi Chaudhry lives in Shimla with her husband. She has written 18 books including the bestsellers: Ghost Stories of Shimla Hills and More Ghost Stories of Shimla Hills. Both these books are now being converted into a TV Series.
Minakshi spent her formative years in West Africa where she did her schooling. She is a keen observer of people, cultures, life styles and is fond of trekking and travelling. Playing drums is another passion of hers. She responds to ethereal whispers and narrates sensitive, sensual, spooky and strange tales. Minakshi is founder President of the Swarn Educational Welfare and Awareness (SEWA) Trust that works in the areas of health, education, environment and career counselling. The Trust also runs Khushi - a unique day care centre for elderly women at Solan with the support of the Government.

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Point Six Technologies Pvt Ltd
• Release date: Aug 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9789388930765

Minakshi Chaudhry

Minakshi Chaudhry lives in Shimla with her husband. She has written 18 books including the bestsellers: Ghost Stories of Shimla Hills and More Ghost Stories of Shimla Hills. Both these books are now being converted into a TV Series.Minakshi spent her formative years in West Africa where she did her schooling. She is a keen observer of people, cultures, life styles and is fond of trekking and travelling. Playing drums is another passion of hers. She responds to ethereal whispers and narrates sensitive, sensual, spooky and strange tales. Minakshi is founder President of the Swarn Educational Welfare and Awareness (SEWA) Trust that works in the areas of health, education, environment and career counselling. The Trust also runs Khushi - a unique day care centre for elderly women at Solan with the support of the Government.She can be contacted at [e-mail]

Book preview

1

The Siege

Will you stop smoking? It is so damn irritating, said Rosalin. The middle-aged, heavily built, tall woman was fighting to control her temper.

Aldo glared at her and then just out of malice, spat, Sure, when you will stop drinking, woman.

They pointedly looked at each other with hatred and if looks could kill, both would have dropped dead.

The other two, Daniel and Robert, were glued to the television set oblivious to the enmity brewing between their partners. Both had a worried look on their faces, their minds trying to grapple with the situation they had landed themselves in.

The master plan had gone perfectly well but just when they were getting ready to move out of Shimla, everything turned topsy-turvy. The more Rosalin thought, the surer she became that it was all Aldo’s fault. Moreover, it was a bad omen to have lost her lucky charm, she was certain of this now.

It was mid-afternoon and the last six hours had been torturous. Daniel and she had been drinking heavily to calm down the turmoil brewing in their minds and to suppress the horror of what will happen to them, if caught.

Robert was in a stupor and he had not moved from the sofa chair except for gulping down glasses of clear water. He had not put a morsel in his mouth since morning. All he had chewed were the fingernails of both his hands, which now nervously clutched the remote control of the television set. His Tablet lay on his knees and his phone beside his hips, he had to be connected always.

The group’s different backgrounds, nationalities and traits were showing up now. Initial bonhomie had died and the individual differences were coming to the forefront. Terror was gripping them by the hour.

Rosalin was a German while Daniel was an Austrian. Robert was an Englishman and Aldo was a Swiss. Though everyone understood and spoke German, yet language was unable to unite them in these precarious circumstances. It only made the matters worse, whenever someone cursed in German the others understood! And that was enough to flare the tempers.

By now they had become familiar with the Indian TV news channels with weird names like Aaj Tak, NewsX, PTC, City Channel, Channel 9 and Day & Night. They were only interested in the news to keep themselves updated but frequent commercial breaks and entertainment programmes even on these channels frustrated them beyond measure.

Daniel was worried about Robert Anderson who was continuously flipping channels, his fingers fiddling with the remote. There was something not normal about this man. His stooped figure, white fluffy hair, pale complexion and grey eyes bore into the screen. Till now, Robert had not uttered a sentence except for a few chosen abuses and some syllables which sounded more like ’oh my God, Jesus, Holy Mother’. In fact, ever since they had known each other he was always glued to the internet, with weird noises coming from his gadgets. It gave Daniel the creeps.

A red suitcase was lying unnoticed a few feet away from the washroom door, an object of no importance. No one could guess that it contained the precious secret. All of them had worked so hard to get it but it had become useless, with the changed circumstances it seemed to have lost its significance. Now none of them gave even a cursory glance. It lay abandoned, waiting for them to take notice.

Merely after two hours of their sweet victory, it seemed that they had lost the war. How humiliated they felt! The only thing that they could do was to stay put in the hotel without raising any suspicion and wait for a miracle to happen.

They had chosen a perfect night to execute their plan. The weather prediction had been more than correct. It was a stormy night with rain and thunder. Flashes of lightning lit the whole area and the howling wind made so much noise that they had to shout to talk to each other! Never before had Rosalin heard such deafening thunderclaps. Heavy rain had started beating down around midnight and continued till four in the morning. The weather gods gave them ample time to execute their well-crafted plan.

There was only one witness to their performance. But they were not worried as all of them were sure that it could not tell anyone.

Some hours ago they were so excited about completing the job meticulously. But the ways of nature are stranger than the ways of men. The same weather that helped them carry out their plan played the spoilsport, the taxi in which they were to leave got delayed. Worst, their Indian accomplice ditched them.

They slumped in despair when the news channels on the T. V. screamed that all roads leading out of Himachal had been sealed and every vehicle was being searched.

2

Media Descends on the

Queen of Hills

It was unbelievable. Totally preposterous. Something never imagined. An impossible thing to happen.

The news spread like wildfire and reporters from national and international media based in Delhi rushed to Shimla with their support staff, cameras and equipment. Senior correspondents covering all types of news- political, investigative, crime- were dispatched by their bosses to reach the queen of hills, the erstwhile summer capital of the British Raj. Trains, planes, and buses- every mode of transport had been booked to the full. There was a perpetual traffic jam on the roads leading to Shimla.

No one was being allowed to leave Himachal without a thorough search. The checking was more stringent for the outsiders. It was a chaotic situation. Deployment of two additional companies of the police was not enough to regulate the traffic on the choked roads.

For the media, it was pure excitement to break another big story. But for the Shimlaites, the morning brought shock and grief coupled with exclamations of horror.

3

Unusual Morning

The twins were rudely woken out of their morning slumber by their father’s loud pounding on the door.

Get up, quick, come out. You will not believe this! He said in a hysterical tone. Both the brothers jumped out of the bed. Harshit was terrified. What could have happened? Was mom ill? He could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

Ishmit looked out of the window. It was still dark and he sensed the dark branches of the apple tree moving scaring him all the more.

Still tugging on his pajamas, Harshit stumbled into the drawing room trying to comprehend what had happened. He saw his mother sitting on the sofa, with a cup of tea in her hands. Relieved, he stopped abruptly; making sleepy Ishmit bump into him who bellowed, What are you doing?

Thank God, you are okay mom, said Harshit as he looked at his mother who was wrapped in her favorite shawl, the bright purple pashmina with magenta stripes. She was looking with bewilderment at her husband who was pacing up and down the room, glancing at the television set and muttering incoherently.

The boys stood dumbstruck, they could not hear what their dad was muttering about because of the loud volume of the T.V.

Harshit vaguely glanced at the screen, it was showing a dark place where many people were gathered. The picture changed to a couple of sniffing dogs being led by policemen with rubble all around. Where had this happened and what had happened, he wondered. Though he was feeling immense relief that his parents were fine but the telecast on the T.V. certainly seemed alarming.

Nothing like this had happened before in their house! Their dad was a man of a calm demeanour. Therefore, his restlessness was very disturbing.

What is it bro? Whispered Ishmit behind him. Harshit shrugged and was about to ask their mother the reason behind all this uproar when their dad’s cup of tea fell on the floor, shattering into pieces, startling the boys out of their wits.

Amit look what you have done, you have spoiled the carpet, the tea stain will remain forever, wailed their mother.

You are worried about your carpet! Shimla has been vandalized and you are worried about your carpet! The lawyer roared.

The boys were taken aback, what was dad talking about? They had never seen him so angry and perturbed. He stopped pacing and intently started staring at the T.V.

Ishmit moved forward pushing his brother aside and asked, What is the matter dad?

It is still dark outside, why did you wake us up, he added in a complaining tone.

Son, look what has happened? He snapped pointing towards the T.V. and added, This is no time to sleep.

Both the boys looked at the T.V. A young reporter was talking in a high-pitched voice, No one had thought that this could happen at the Scandal Point in Shimla. An international terror plot is not ruled out.

Ishmit slumped on the sofa, his legs were turning into jelly.

I am reminded of the words of an English author who said that you should treat all disasters as if they were trivialities but never treat a triviality as if it were a disaster. However, this one seems to be a real disaster, said Harshit in a hoarse whisper.

Yes, a real disaster, muttered their father looking haggard.

4

Reality Check for Aaliya

Aaliya was making a presentation at the International Science Summit in Geneva. She was wearing a white long coat and was looking every inch a scholar with her hair up in a loose chignon and eyes rimmed with small framed spectacles. Hundreds of delegates from all over the world were listening to her findings with appreciation and awe. As she highlighted the main points with a laser pointer on the huge LED screen, the audience kept pace with her and nodded intently.

Suddenly, a buzz resonated in the conference room. It irritated her and the audience alike. Had something gone wrong with the projector, she worried but continued with her lecture. She was enjoying herself thoroughly but then the buzz came back. The harder she tried to ignore, the more prominent it became.

Aaliya woke up with a jolt: Where was she? Oh, oh, she had been dreaming! The dream slipped from her memory but the irritating buzz remained. To her annoyance it became even louder. Only after a moment did her sleepy mind realize that it was the ringtone of her mobile phone. And she was not in Geneva but in her bed in the Renuka Hostel in Shimla! The phone was ringing continuously.

Thank God, her roommate had gone home otherwise she would have created a lot of ruckus because of the persistent ringing of the phone at such an unearthly hour, she thought. Diya’s shouts of protests would have been louder than the phone’s ring tone, she mused. Diya slept late in the night and was not a morning person. Simultaneously, another thought tumbled into her sleepy mind as to who would be calling her so early? She looked straight up at the wall clock. It was 6.30 a.m.!

Hurrying to pick up the phone from the study table she tripped off the bed, her feet got entangled in the bed linen. Thankfully she saved herself from crashing on the floor by clutching the table for support! With a groan, she picked up the phone. It was Rahul, her boyfriend calling.

Hello, she said pressing the phone to her ear. Her heart beating loud, terrified that something bad must have happened otherwise why he would call so early? Her panicked reaction shifted gears when she heard an overly animated Rahul narrating a situation that Aaliya took a long time to comprehend. Her expressions changed from panic to anger to disbelief and then again, back to panic.

I am coming, meet me at the Scandal, she said