Tag Archives: Story

The Perfect Murder Weapon



*“So you are Mr. Bankim Chatterjee? Famous private investigator.”

**“Yes sir, that’s me.”

*”Nice to have you here, but Mr. Chatterjee, to be frank there’s not much of a case here. You see my father passed away in his sleep. He had a massive heart attack. Our family doctor Dr. Mallik is here, if you want you can check with him.

**”But Mr. Ghosal, your elder brother is finding it very strange, of course your father had some mild heart condition but nothing to be this fatal.

*”Ahh! My brother is paranoid, he was actually very close to him, you could say he was his favorite son. Don’t mind Mr Chatterjee, I smell something fishy here. Is it an attempt to malign my image somehow? What he is trying to prove that dad’s death is an unnatural one?

**”I so hope not. But why are you even being so defensive? I have been appointed by your brother and let me investigate, as you said if there’s nothing fishy everyone will be off the hook.”

*”Well, I was just thinking that it all will end up in a wild goose chase, but anyway, it’s your wish. After all your fees will be paid from my brother’s pocket.


**”Inspector Sinha, what’s your say in this case.”

***”Pretty much an open and shut case Mr. Chatterjee, justice Subham Ghosal died in a cardiac arrest,  but well, as in all the stories and the media show that private investigators are smarter than police, I’m sure you would come up with something. (Smiling sarcastically).”

**“Hmm. If I’m not wrong justice Ghosal was an avid reader and a very learned man, even he had his own library, he was known for his literary skills, there’s hardly a classic he did not read.”

***”Indeed, every night he used to read for at least 2 to 3 hours before he used to go to sleep.”

**“Hmm, strange, at one look I find no trace of a book in this room, I guess it’s his bed room, such an reader must be having at least 2 to 3 books stacked on that table.”

***”(Puzzled) I haven’t noticed that. We have to ask his younger son Subir Ghosal, he was with him last night.”


*”Yes, his library was locked yesterday and one of the servant misplaced the key. So couldn’t unlock the door, today morning I was supposed to call a locksmith, but before that we found him in his bed…. Lifeless.”

**“Strange!! Did he always keep all his books in the library?”

*”Mr. Chatterjee, My dad always lived by his rules and was a creature of habit. He never liked his books to be scattered around in the house rather neatly kept in the library room, he used to pick one book at a night, read and sleep and once done with it, he would pick the next book. Unfortunately he just finished a book the night before and kept it in the library, last night as the key was misplaced he couldn’t get another one.

**”Had it ever happened before? He slept without reading?”

*”Maybe once or twice, I am not really sure, see Mr. Chatterjee, I don’t live here, my brother does, as he was out of station I came here to give dad a company.”

**”Thank you Mr. Subir Ghosal. Inspector if you don’t mind I would like to have few words with you in private.”


**”How could you do this to your own father Mr. Ghosal? He was after all your own father. Just to inherit his property you have killed him so brutally.”

*”I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s all an arrangement, between you and my brother. He wants to send me away and seize all dad’s property.”

**“Your brother doesn’t have millions of debt on his head Mr. Ghosal, nor he has the gambling addiction, your own house is also mortgaged, I have the papers here.”

*”Mr. Chatterjee, you are crossing your boundaries, my private life is none of your business. And my father died in a heart attack, if you can prove it otherwise fine, else you can’t keep me here in this police investigation room, not for another second.”

**” Of course your father died in heart attack, but it’s you who made that happen. It’s you who plotted the entire scheme.”

*” Mr. Chatterjee, I warn you.”

**”You knew your father is a creature of habit that he can’t sleep without reading for couple of hours before sleep. You also knew how your father hated and loathed bad writers and literatures. You hid his library key last night. He was restless, he needed a book to read, so you cleverly suggested him a book. A book with a bad plot, worse story and written by one of the worst writer of the country.

He started reading the book, he understood the mistake he had done, but like all the true readers he couldn’t stop in the middle and throw the book into a bin, so kept reading, his heartbeat started to rise, he got palpitation, his eyes turned red, he was drinking water continuously but was unable to even breathe. At last his heart gave up. I don’t blame him Mr. Ghosal, even a normal, healthy man would have meet the same end.”

*”(Sobbing heavily) I am sorry Mr. Chatterjee, I had no other choice, I am so deep in my debt that.. that I needed the money. (Broke out in tears)”

**”You don’t deserve mercy Mr. Ghosal, if I could, I would make you read that book over and over again. Though I’m not sure if you would be alive after reading the half of it. But honorable court won’t allow it.

***”We have found it under Subir Ghosal’s bed Mr. Chatterjee, here it is.”

Private investigator Bankim Chatterjee was holding the murder weapon in his hand, the perfect murder weapon. “HALF GIRLFRIEND BY CHETAN BHAGAT.” Bankim Chatterjee felt the chill running down through his spine, “What is awaited for the literature in future?”





Me: So, I think you are avoiding me.

She: You know I can’t, even though I want to, I can’t.

Me: I thought of making you more beautiful, elegant.

She: I wish to be free, not beautiful, elegant or gorgeous or anything!

Me: What’s wrong in here? I can provide you all want. Anything you need, anything at all.

She: Stop saying that. And stop being a fool. Stop lying to yourself.

Me: But I love you. I do.

She: Even you know we can’t be together, you know we aren’t meant for each other.

Me: What am I suppose to do then?

She: I don’t know.


(In a get together on a Saturday evening)

Friends: So what’s up, what are you working on?

Me: I am writing a story where a writer gradually falls in love with his new creation. A female protagonist.

Friends: Wow! How it’s going to end?

Me: I haven’t thought about it, still working on it.


She: So I have to die?

Me: Yes. You have to commit suicide, by hanging yourself.

She: How could you be so cruel? Just because I couldn’t love you back……

Me: No Nikita, not because of that, because that’s what the story demands. You know me.


(Few months later on another get together)

Friend 1: Hey, so at last you finished the story. I must say the ending is kind of sad. The demise of the central character, I don’t know how the other readers will take it.

Me: Well, that’s what the story demands.

Friend 2: Hey, sorry to hear about Nikita, she was such a lovely girl. I heard you were fond of her, my condolences.

Me: Yeah, she was a lovely girl indeed, she was even my inspiration.



A Story


He wrote. “You look so beautiful in that pink and blue dress. When you smile, the heaven smiles, you speak like a nightingale; I hear the sound of thousand waterfalls when you giggle, those deep dark deep eyes is deeper than any lake of the world and those cheeks are rosier than any red rose. And here I am, looking at you like a fool”.

He looked at her while she was busy writing something and playing with a pint of hair with her left hand. He sighed and glanced back at his piece of paper before he throws it into the dustbin.

She wrote. “You look so handsome in that white shirt and blue jeans. You appearance has a sublime meaning, those strong arms can hold somebody secure and those stronger shoulder can carry anyone till the end of the world. Your soft speaking, naïve yet wise personality, there’s not one thing I dislike about you”.

She finished writing and looked back at him, saw him threw a piece of paper to the dustbin while taking the last few sips from his coffee cup. She sighed and tore the paper into pieces.

“She is so beautiful, so cute and I am such a fool, she must have someone better in her life”, He knew he could never gather enough courage to ask her out.

“He is so handsome and I am so ugly, he must have gorgeous girl with him” , She thought, she could never tell him how much she likes him.

Before he could reach out and shout, she started her scooty. The mini truck she didn’t see coming hit her down. She only saw him running at her and then its darkness.

“She wants to see you for one last time.” Doctor told him.

Miserably, hopelessly he entered the hospital ward room, sat next to her, looked at her pain clad face and closed eyes. He whispered, “All my love declared, for you, to you”. To his surprise, she opened her eyes and replied, “Mine too”.

Puzzled he looked at the doctor now laughing at them. “You kids are awful these days; you people needed an accident to declare your love? Sorry for my theatrics, but just couldn’t help. She just has few minor injuries and a fractured leg. If you take good care of her she would be alright in a month.”


She: isn’t it suppose have a tragic, sad ending?

Me: Yes, it supposes to, but then I thought a happy ending won’t hurt anybody.

She: Strange, so this time you won’t kill your character by the stroke of your pen; I wonder how all of a sudden you become so kind hearted?

He: Because I begged him not to kill you, because I pleaded him for our togetherness, happiness, because I told him, just

because you are a lonely and sad man, you have no rights to play with the lives of your characters.

And then they went back into the story and lived there happily ever after.