It was frosty winter and homicide detective Marathe had just arrived home. Few letters were lying on his front door dreaming of being picked up from last seven days. He noticed them as he entered the house but didn’t bother to pick them up. Cause he finally got to home after 7 days. Bending down from back was just too much of work for him now. His heart and soul craved for bed after having to sleep on couch at work for last seven days which he felt as a year; leap year to be precise. He barely made it up to the bedroom and saw picture of his family hanging on the wall. That photograph made him feel more abandoned and lonesome. He didn’t even get to see his little daughter last weekend because he was ruining fantasy of some psychopathic serial killer.
His bedroom was a total mess. It stinks of never dry-cleaned socks and rotten apples. He was wearing same shirt from 2 days. He had detective Patil picked up clothes for him 2 days back which was a herculean task for detective Patil. Patil chose best from the pile of dirty clothes something which was still making Marathe’s bedroom look like a teenager’s hostel room.
He threw his keys on bed knowing it will take him 5 minutes to find them in mess tomorrow. He reached out to switch board to put on lights. Power must have been cut off after 3 warning letters to pay bill which still were shivering out in cold. He removed his mucky shirt and throws it on bed; right where it was picked up from in the first place. He was getting weaker from last two months after he was promoted to this section. It was his 3rd promotion in 4 years which was certainly justified. Marathe had the highest closing rate on force. He and his career were shining bright; though dark circle’s radius under his eye was increasing function of time. They got darker and darker as years passed. He threw himself on bed and fell asleep in a fraction of millisecond.
He was starving which is something is used to forget all the time. All he ate was apples; sometimes for days. Dark chamber full of stinking objects had to make room for loud periodic inhales and exhales. He stomach must have pined for food real hard; hard enough to wake him up after such a laborious day. He forcefully opened his eyes and squeezed his stomach; cursing it. Unconsciously his hand went for side-table where he always kept his apples. He found all apples rotten. Somehow he managed to pull his body together and sit up. He seated there for a couple of minutes with his palms on bed and fingers hanging in air and head down before he could gather all the energy required to make it up to the kitchen. He marched up to kitchen walking like an exhausted zombie hoping he will find something to eat. He felt annoyed as his steps into a puddle of cold water. He considered himself as a fool. He must have anticipated that the fridge will leak with melted ice as power was cut off. He couldn’t believe he once caught a murderer in one and half hour!!!
Fridge was full of empty jars and cans. Just some stale bread inside; not even jam. He gulped some of the water from a half-filled bottle placed right in between empty jars of tomato ketchup and vinegar. He didn’t even know what the hell those bottles were doing in his fridge in the first place. Only great god knew when last that fridge and that water bottle were opened. He thought pain will disappear slowly with every gulp of water. Well, it didn’t.
He thought of calling her daughter and check on her on his way back to bed-room. He took out his worn-out mobile out of his pocket and speed dialled 6. Family certainly wasn’t highest of his priorities which is one of the reasons he got divorced according to his beautiful wife. He heard bell ringing. Nobody answered. Same happened next two times he tried. He took a look at his mobile screen and it showed 11:35 pm. Assuming she went to bed at 10 o’clock following her mother’s strict order he stopped calling. Anyways he was going to see her day after.
He remembered the last time he hung out with his daughter. It was a pretty happy weekend for detective; not so much for the daughter as detective passed out behind the couch while playing hide and seek. Still it was something about detective that made little Ananya to visit her father every possible weekend. Detective was easy-going and Ananya could watch her favourite TV show past 10.
Thinking about her daughter, detective was staring at ceiling and the motionless fan. Finally he took another look at that photograph and closed his eyes. This time he felt smidgen of peace in a corner of his heart. It was after months that he had a smile on his face while going to sleep. Detective was enjoying his much needed sleep session and he had no idea what bizarre day he has in front of him.
It was at midnight and the traffic on the roads was finally going down. But half of city was still awake. Few due to sickness in their beds at homes or at hospitals, few must be boozing and partying out in night clubs. College students must be wishing happy birthdays on phones to some or other. Few crazy poets must be thinking of beautiful string of words; commonly known as poems. And some absurd lunatics must be on their phones uploading shit on social media.
There is also a whole different category of people who ought to be found awake at that time of night....rapists, thugs and KILLERS...
Marathe was sleeping lying on his back; stretching his arms and legs wide enough that half of his clothes fall on ground making another small pile of clothes when he got the banal call from Patil at 1:12. Marathe put on his shirt and head out to Gandhi Nagar which wasn’t a long drive.
Of course he made sure that Patil had apples with him.