His Last Words

Chapter 1 - Stabbed By Fate

Chapter 1 - Stabbed By Fate“WHEN OUR LIFE TURNS INTO A BROKEN PIECE OF ART THE TOOLS TO FIX IT LIES IN OUR OWN HANDS. EMBRACING DESTINY AND CREATING IT ARE NOT OPTIONS BUT CHOICES.

OUR CHOICES AND DREAMS ARE OUR OWN. NOT OF OUR PARENTS OR OTHERS. TO ACHIEVE OUR GOALS WE MUST BE SELFISH, AND OLNY ACT THE WAY OUR HEART DESIRES TO."

(You must be wandering how this line is connected to this part, read till end to know…)

Chapter 1: Meeting the Professor

“So, what do you have to say about your new and young professor joining your college the next month” said Raunak Chaturvedi to a young girl leaving the entrance of Jadavpur University.

“It’s so awesome….but wait, why are you asking that to me? Who are you?” said that girl to Chaturvedi as she stared at him. She didn’t like that man at all. Chaturvedi was an extremely average looking man. Everything starting from his looks, his stature and his height were average; on top of that he had a habit of maintaining a constant gloomy expression amplified by his ever frowning eyebrows.

“I am a journalist. I am interviewing his upcoming students. I want to know how it feels to have a renowned man like Dr. Amit Chowdhury as your teacher. He had his research done in Oxford and yet he accepted to teach here after spending a few years abroad, travelling and spreading his research” said Raunak.

“Well you are not a good journalist. You should had asked for my name first” said the pretty girl with a crafty smile.

“Sorry young lady. What’s your name?” said Raunak.

“It’s Smita. You know I had seen his conferences and I am a staunch follower of his blog. His phenomenal research and his impressive teaching skills will go to waste here, but then again, our country needs him.”

“How will you describe that man if asked?”

“Well, let’s see…he is quite good looking, I mean really good looking. He always dresses elegantly and his eyes are damn hot. I get transfixed seeing his eyes on camera as well. And his voice is like chocolate pudding for the ears. About his skills…well everyone knows that he is a man with an immeasurable IQ.”

“Thanks for the chat.”

“No problem. By the way, he is having a seminar today.”

“In Salt Lake. I know, I am heading right there” saying that Raunak and Smita parted.

Raunak booked a cab and as he took his seat he googled Amit Chowdhury’s name. He went through the articles on him and the flattery words on Wikipedia about him as well. His research was done and he was rather satisfied with his research.

Raunak Chaturvedi was no normal civilian. He was the SP of Soalbaga district, a semi-modern village. For a specific reason he had to meet professor Chowdhury. He had been collecting information about him from both people and internet since the past three days.

He had already wasted his short stay in Kolkata by neglecting the tourist spots like Victoria Memorial and Writer’s Building. For a workaholic talk-no-nonsense man, it was quite common though.

The professor had become quite the celebrity. A massive crowd had gathered in Salt Lake just to hear a few words from the living legend. The anchor or host of the program was good in crowd management. Once the knowledge-hungry and enthusiastic crowd of university

Students and teachers took their seats, the anchor dictated his flowery introduction about Dr. Amit Chowdhury.

“A man who made himself with codes and formulas….well jokes apart. Today we have gathered to have a glimpse of the world famous computer genius, the creator of Roulete Cypher System, The Syncronium Rubix Encoder software and the author of five bestselling books on Computing and Mathematics that have apparently become a part of the syllabi followed throughout the world. The Professor with the highest number of female followers throughout the world. The man who had baptised Oxford, please welcome the pride of India and the tea-mate of our PM, Professor Amit Chowdhury!!”

The crowd responded with a shower of claps.

SP Chaturvedi was one of them as well. He was waiting to see that man in person eagerly.

“Ump…Professor Chowdhury, you there?” repeated the anchor. His colleagues confirmed it to him and professor Chowdhury entered the podium. As he became the focus of the audience after entering the spotlight, SP Chaturvedi was finally able to match his true self with the decorated description he read and heard about him. To his surprise, he appeared to be even better.

Amit Chowdhury was looking tired that day and his eyes appeared tired. However those brown eyes still had an innocent yet marvellous appeal in them. His skin colour was not ivory white but rather a shade that epitomised the combination of brick brown with white. His neatly trimmed beard with gently styled hair showcased his mannered upbringing and intellect.

Despite being tired he approached the crowd well and calmly explained his theorems to them. His pronunciation was appropriate and had the touch of an Oxford graduate.

“As you all are aware, my invention Syncronium Rubix Encoder that fetched me a National award has been nominated for a noble prize, that’s the reason I am here and my tea party pictures with the PM on i********: have nothing to do with it.” Said our Professor.

The crowd busted into an immense laughter. Professor pressed the green arrow-shaped button of the projector remote that he was holding and a couple of slides on his research were displayed to the crowd. A unique and obscure pattern was projected on the white projector board.

“Does anyone recognise this?” asked Amit Chowdhury addressing the audience. Most of them were clueless.

“And I thought you guys are here because you read my books and follow my blogs. Well, my fault!” as he said that he saw three raised hands. He smiled in relief. “Finally a few people who care, you…please enlighten the crowd” he said to the young lad who was raising his hand from the third row.

“It’s the Circuital Framework structure of Syncronium Rubix.” He said.

“Brilliant! So proud of you! Be seated” said Amit Chowdhury.

The next few hours were spent with discussion on modern programming and coding. It was January 12 of 2014 and Professor Chowdhury had already become the most promising inventor of the world and country. He was already the pride of Kolkata, but SP Chaturvedi had other things to discuss.

After the seminar was over the overly enthusiastic crowd gathered round him to collect his autographs. Once the hustle was over and he was about to board in his car, he heard a strange voice. It was SP Chaturvedi.

“A BMW on the streets of Kolkata? Well you are quite the rich man now, right professor?” he said.

A surprised Amit Chowdhury turned and met the grim faced man in front of him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am SP Raunak Chaturvedi, Soalbaga district.”

“How can I help you?” said Amit with a puzzled expression.

“You can, only if you want to.” Said Chaturvedi.

“Well before you ask I don’t take private coaching classes” said Amit and by the look on his face SP Chaturvedi realised that he actually meant it.

“What! Oh god and they say you aren’t funny” said Chaturvedi after observing the man before him with the eyes of a cop.

“Do you know this man?” saying which SP Chaturvedi passed on a postcard sized photograph to professor Chowdhury. He grabbed it with a little hesitation but his expressions changed drastically as he stared at the picture. He got serious all of a sudden.

“Dr. Grey Hoffman. Paranormal researcher. We met in Oxford. He is a friend. Was coming to meet me. I received his email two days back when he boarded in Taj hotel. He is coming to Kolkata to meet me tomorrow. How do you have his picture?” asked a perplexed Amit Chowdhury.

“I am afraid that your meeting will not be happening” said Raunak as he passed another picture to Amit.

That picture was more than enough to freak him out. It was a shot from a crime scene. A murdered corpse of Grey Hoffman. His eyes were poked out and the head was smashed like paper trash. His clothes had been removed and his skin had been peeled to expose his flesh. The decomposers had hollowed his body. Seeing that picture for more than a few seconds wasn’t possible and Amit threw it at once. He was about to vomit.

He was broken and was breathing heavily. He had no words left. His eyes weren’t red but rather puzzled. He frowned and gave a fiery stare to Raunak; his eyes demanding an explanation.

“We found his body in our village. You will be surprised to know that he had visited our village a day before yesterday. His visit was short as you can witness. He was doing some research right, on some haunted creature’s existence. He called them Hellcapers. Am I right?”

“How do you know?” asked a perturbed Amit.

“We went through his research. We found out that he had uncarved a new language, their language. Well, he didn’t leave behind much notes….”

“But why do you need those notes. You are no researcher and I can’t expect any other researcher; especially from India to be interested in paranormal stuff as such” inquired Amit.

“True but we couldn’t overlook these” saying that SP Chaturvedi passed a file to professor Chowdhury. He opened the file and his eyes protruded in sheer amazement and disbelief. He cursed his eyes for being able to recognise those horrible signs engraved on the trunk of a tree near the corpse (as shown in the picture). Those signs blocked his words for a moment and it took him about five seconds to regain his senses.

“How is it possible? He had already decided to….”

“Decided to do what?”

“To stop his research on them. This is no ordinary paranormal stuff. He knew it. Good lord! Why did this happen?”

“What were the reasons for him to stop his research?”

“I am not bound to tell that to you.”

“True, but we know that you had been taught to read this special language by him. You are also well aware about his research. You need to help us, otherwise some goons will be taking advantage of it.”

“I didn’t get you. You know how he was murdered?”

“Yes, and I assure you it was not some poltergeist thing.”

“Well I am least interested. He was a friend and his death has definitely caused an emotional breakdown for me, but that’s all. I do not wish to proceed with this topic. Please excuse me.”

“Ok fine, here take my card. Let me know if you change your mind. In case you want you can tear it.”

After that small chit-chat Amit Chowdhury entered his BMW and drove away. SP Chaturvedi smiled. He was definitely unsatisfied with Amit’s answer but at the same time he was certain about one thing.

“He will be helping with the case. He just needs some time.” Said Raunak to himself. Raunak had no specific reason to possess that confidence. However his instincts were clear. He had seen something in professor Chowdhury that had made his conscience speak such words to him. He had realised already that there was a lot more to professor Chowdhury than what met one’s eyes.