Story time with Manju

Ramesh mama was like a second father to me . All through my ups and downs in life , all my medical emergencies, he held my hand and patiently guided me along . Whether it be a simple cough and cold or my Mother’s case of    Cerebral Malaria or my Mother in Law’s prolonged illness, he was always by my side. He was the “ go to” doctor for my children as well, especially Sayali. While studying in UK, she would call him whenever she had even the slightest of health problems and his word was always the last . If I didn’t call him in a week, he would call me asking me if all was okay .  There came a sudden heartbreaking turn in my life , I lost my husband Milind . My world crumbled. At that time Mama was visiting his son Sanjeet in the USA. He called to speak with me . I can still hear his voice echoing in my mind - so gentle, so calm . I was sobbing uncontrollably and he softly advised ,    “Manju, you have to be strong, there’s no other option . You have to be there...

It was a night draped in darkness and shadows, the monsoon rains pounding relentlessly on the deserted streets of Mumbai. The city’s usual hum was drowned out by the relentless clatter of rain and broken glimpses of streetlights flickering through the downpour. Amid this bleak scene, a young girl named Aisha , drenched to the bone , stood trembling in a black rain jacket , the hood of which covering most of her forehead , hair damp and clinging onto her face and shoulders , under a faded lamppost, clutching her mobile phone with wet sweaty palms. Her voice was trembling as she dialed the police station. “Please, I need help. I saw a dead body in the trunk of that white sedan parked on Mankikar Marg , Chunabhatti. It’s... it’s horrible.” Her words tumbled out in frantic whispers, punctuated by the howling wind and the incessant patter of rain .  Within minutes, sirens wailed through the rain as police cars arrived, their beams casting eerie shadows across the wet street . Officers h...