Kumar ran along the corridor of the building with his heart and feet pounding. His backpack was full and the weight kept dragging him down, affecting his speed. He risked a quick glance behind and saw three of his pursuers doggedly on his trial. He turned a corner. His heart sank at once and he desperately wished he had never come to this part of the building. There stood a huge wired fence in front of him. Without wasting a second he ran at full speed towards the fence and vaulted himself up, almost like a dog trying to cross a hurdle, on to the middle part of the fence and held on to the fence. The twisted and firm wire cut into his hands and tore into his flesh. He grimaced in pain, but pulled himself up further and began the painful climb up the fence. The shout of his followers came closer. He dared not look down for fear of losing pace. He managed to reach the top of the fence and crossed over to the other side by jumping down on the other side. He lay there for a while, stunned. He could see the three men climbing the fence. Knowing that he was running short of time, he got groggily to his feet, steadied himself and started running again.

The three men reached the other side of the fence and moved in the direction in which they saw him run. The leader of the group was a clean shaven youth of 26 years. He was dressed in a white kurta and blue jeans. His aquiline features and slick hair made him look like a software professional. The other two men with him were around forty years of age and were dressed in jeans and tee shirts. The men intensified their search as the leader barked a command. His outward appearance belied the power that he radiated as he dictated terms to his henchmen. They cowered before him as he looked their way. Their behavior suggested something far more than cruelty in the part of their leader.

Kumar could feel his heart hammering away as he lay hidden under an unused car that had been abandoned some years back. He had thrown the backpack on the top of another broken down van that stood some distance away. He lay down, with his face anxiously searching for signs of his followers. It took some time for his heartbeat to slow down. As he lay sprawled, thinking of the events that led to this mad chase, his mind began to spin.

It was during the Christmas season in his second standard that I first met Kumar. Kumar’s father had been invited with his family to his neighbor’s house for a Christmas party. The girl in the family was Kumar’s classmate. It was the first party that Kumar attended in his life. He saw a beautiful car replica that adorned the mantelpiece of that house. He went towards the replica and took it in his hands. His hands caressed the car as he looked at each of the part lovingly.

“Nice looking car. Isn’t it?” said I.

He looked startled, but regained his composure soon.

“You think I can have this for myself?” asked Kumar without taking his eyes off from the model clutched firmly in his hands.

“Maybe you can get one for yourself later. Why don’t you ask your dad?”

“Oh… you think my dad will get me one?” asked Kumar, anticipation lighting up his countenance.

“When has your dad ever denied you anything? Go and ask him. I am sure he will get you one”

“Hmmmm… a good idea. I’ll ask him now itself” shouted Kumar gleefully, with his eyes round as saucers, as he left the car on the couch and ran in search of his father.

I sighed as he ran off. Life has its ups and downs. People will be lucky to have a friend to stick through thick and thin. I was one such friend to Kumar. I, in fact, was the only such kind of friend for him. We always discussed everything. There were things that Kumar could not share with his father or mother. He had an ever-listening friend in me and my presence. I gave him my counsel which was accepted most of the time but neglected some times, to my chagrin. But I could do nothing to force him to accept my point of view. Friends cannot and will not force each other into doing or accepting anything.

It was during his school days that we had a spate of words hurled against each other. We had never been in so hateful a situation. Kumar avoided looking at me directly and ensured that I was not included in his many new experiments which usually ended up in trouble for him. I tried reasoning with him, to no avail. Now and then he would relent and show me a glimpse of his life and its secrets. If at all, I opened my mouth to protest or to suggest, the door would clamp shut and we would be at loggerheads again. Life moved on at this pace and I spent most of my days in an uneasy silence that I tried to break by initiating a conversation with Kumar. I was snubbed off at times. The most powerful weapon that Kumar used was the art of ignoring others. He completely ignored me. It was like as if I was never present!

Kumar was intrigued by the art of playing basketball and started training for the school team. He got up early every morning and trained for more than an hour. He bought a new set of sneakers and a new ball. His room was plastered with the pictures of Bill Simmons from the ceiling to the floor. He would come back from the playground every morning dripping with sweat. He started developing muscles in his hands and chest. His way of dressing changed, and he who never wore tee shirts because he considered himself too skinny to be seen in one, now was regularly seen sporting a French beard and sleeveless jerseys. The growth of his confidence level competed with the size of his biceps and they were ever on the rise. His devotion to the game was so very true and high that his father had clipped him on the head and sent him to bed during many nights when he had heard, and then seen on investigation, Kumar practicing ‘shooting the ball’ inside his room, in his sleep. It was during this season that we became the best of buddies again. We used to talk about the NBA standings and the players he adored so much.

“I am thinking of doing my college studies in America. What do you say?” asked Kumar one day.

“A good idea… but you would need a good SAT score to get a seat in the states…” I paused, waiting for my words to sink in. Studying, clearly, was not my friend’s forte.

“Oh, SAT is necessary for me to study in America? I never knew that. Anyhow, it’s just an exam right? I will get good marks” said Kumar, shrugging his shoulders.

“Can I remind you buddy, about your marks in your twelfth grade? You have not passed in three subjects even once in the twelfth grade. SAT will be easy… yes man… it definitely will be easy… it’s just an exam after all and we are the kings in clearing exams” I guffawed, and dived for cover when he came charging at me. He too could not maintain his poker face for long and joined in the laughter till tears streamed down his face.

“What about your passion for basketball?  Are you going to abandon that?” I asked him, after the laughter had died down.

“Forget the basket??? You must be kidding man. It is for the sake of basketball that I plan to study abroad. I will be able to hone my skills and then will be able to get into the NBA some day.” said Kumar, his eyes shining with excitement.

Kumar was shattered when the results of his board exams came. He had barely managed to pass in the exams. He knew that he could not get into a university in America with that score. He tried all possible avenues to get an admission abroad. He met a solid wall of resistance wherever he went. Then there came a time when we hardly met. I could not pass through his closed door. I tried in vain to meet him. He completely shut me off.

I was surprised by his visit one day. It was sudden.

“I have got a chance to study abroad. Can I use this chance?”

The question was abrupt and to the point.

“If you have a chance, why don’t you use it?” I shot back, looking at him intently.

He avoided my eyes and said, “You might not like this option, but there seems to be no other way. I too am not sure if this would work out”

“Go ahead. What is it that runs in your mind?” said I, steeling my heart to hear what he had to say.

“I met one of my classmates who offered to help me in my plight. He said that he would give me money and also help me in getting admission in America” said Kumar, moving restlessly.

“Oh. Cool Kumar. Why do you hesitate then? Be happy and get yourself ready to go abroad”

“Hmm … he … he said that… he said that I would have to go to certain places with …” hesitated Kumar, wiping sweat off his brow.

“With…?” I repeated, curious to know what could make Kumar so agitated.

“Promise me that you will not be mad at me” pleaded Kumar.

I was surprised. I had never seen Kumar in such a pitiable state. I nodded and said “You have known me all these years. Open up dude”

Kumar gulped air, looked around and said, “I am supposed to place bombs in certain areas in our city. When all the bombs have exploded, I will get all the money that I need for my education and also an admission in the States”

I was too shocked to reply.

 “All the bombs are low-intensity bombs only. They have promised me that no one will get hurt. This is just to threaten the government. Nothing else” spluttered Kumar.

“But how do you know that no one will get hurt? Isn’t this wrong? What if you get caught by the police while transporting the bombs? Come on Kumar! Be rational” I shouted, my concern for Kumar shadowing everything else.

“Rational… you talk of thinking rationally??? Will you then give me money to study? How do you think I can become an NBA star if I do not get a seat in an American University? Can you sponsor my studies? Can you make me a famous basketball player?” exploded Kumar in a fury that had been kept under cover for long.

I pleaded long and hard with Kumar to deter him from his suicidal mission. I explained the numerous things that could go wrong. He turned a deaf ear to all my pleas. I was at my wit’s end. I knew that what he had gotten himself into could turn nasty for him and for others too. He then did the expected. He drew a curtain between us and hid himself. This time, the cover was impossible to break through. There were no secret glances, private glimpses that I could manage. I could not find him at all.

It was almost a week after that. He came running. It was the Labor Day. All the offices were shut on behalf of the Labor Day. It was around eight in the morning.

“They have cheated me my friend… they have cheated me. They said that no one would get hurt. They said that it was for only scaring the government. Oh my God… what shall I do now?” wailed Kumar.

Two bombs had ripped through a train in the central railway station in Chennai around a quarter past seven in the morning, killing one and injuring many.

 The bomb had been placed by him.

“They told me that the bomb was a low intensity one. They said that only the… only the sound… sound would be high…” sobbed Kumar uncontrollably.

“I should’ve listened to you… oh… how I wish I had listened to you. To hell with my American dream and NBA standings. I have to make up for this. What shall I do now? Tell me now… tell me now… please…I cannot see people dying” raved Kumar.

“How many more places have you planted bombs in the city? Did they all look similar or were they different?” I asked, stunned by the events. I wanted to save the others at all costs.

“I remember all the places in which I placed the bombs. They all looked the same to me, in weight and color. They are all timed to go off at the same time” replied Kumar.

“Go at once to all the places, collect all the bombs and take them to the police. I am sure they would be able to diffuse the bombs. Start immediately. When are the bombs timed to explode?” I asked breathlessly.

“I do not know the time. I am so sorry… I wish I had learnt the time. But there is no time to waste. Let me go” said Kumar, and rushed away.

He went straight to the mall where he had placed a bomb in a bookstore. He removed the bomb secretly and placed it in his backpack. He removed the bombs from all the places except for one. It was the last place. It was the Koyambedu bus stand. It was busy and full of people travelling for the vacation. As Kumar removed the bomb and was about to place it in his backpack, he saw him, the leader, in his white Kurta. He was moving towards him quickly. Kumar could read murder in his eyes. He took the bomb in his hands and started running. It was from there that Kumar had run like the devil, ducked behind buses and had come to the building behind the bus stand where he hid now.

The three pursuers stood near the car under which Kumar lay hidden. He prayed fervently. It was then that the leader chanced to look down. He saw the traces in the dust filled floor which showed signs of Kumar having squeezed himself underneath the car. He bent down and yanked Kumar out by his legs. Kumar came out legs first, the back of his head smashing against the rust filled body of the car, shaking the car. Dust rose like a cloud above the car. Before he had time to cry out, he was mobbed by the men and was made to stand between the two henchmen who held him tightly. Blood flowed freely from a deep gash at the back of his head.

“Where is the bomb?” asked the leader, without showing any emotion.

“It is under the car” said Kumar.

The leader nodded to one of his men who bent down and retrieved the bomb and gave it to the leader.

“Why did you remove the bomb?”

“You promised that no one would get hurt. YOU promised that. Did you hear about the girl who was killed? I do not want my city to be blown apart by mindless idiots like you. I do not know what took over me to accept such a hideous task from you” said a defiant Kumar.

“Whatever you do, you cannot change the fate of thousands of people who will be blown to pieces when all the bombs explode very soon” laughed the leader and threw the bomb on top of the van that stood some distance away.

“Tie him up to the van. The bomb has been timed to go off in another ten minutes. When the wailing from the city reaches our ears, our little friend here would be with his maker and we can sit at that corner and watch his departure from this world” said the leader,” with a malicious smile scarring his face. The leader knew that the intensity of one bomb would not travel very far. It anyhow would be enough to kill Kumar.

Kumar was elated by the secret knowledge that only he knew. The gang did not know that the other bombs from the city had been removed. The people will not be killed. No one would be hurt. His friend will forgive him for the crime that he had already committed. God will not perhaps take into account the sin of having been responsible for the loss of the life of a girl. The girl’s parents would also, maybe, able to forgive him. He also knew beyond doubt that all the bombs exploding at the same time would kill not only him, but also the leader and his gang sitting in the corner of the scrap yard. There would be no more leaders and no more Kumars to carry out acts of madness against humanity.

“I have removed all the bombs, my friend” said Kumar, his face beaming with joy.

“I know that pal. I know that. I saw everything that took place. I am happy now that you are again on the right track” I said, looking at Kumar. I was happy that Kumar and I were buddies again. There were no curtains to separate us and no doors to stop us. He was my soul-mate. He was mine and I, his.

I was his conscience.