The court room was packed with media and public who had thronged to witness the proceedings. As the lawyers’ arguments progressed, the judge intently heard and made his notes. The plaintiff, a woman, had accused her colleague of an attempted molestation and the issue had become a rage, with everyone wanting to punish the offender.
With none willing to represent the accused, Mr. Anand Sharma, a brilliant, fearless attorney, went ahead. Herculean efforts were being made, as to not let the miscreant go scot free but, Mr. Anand Sharma taking up the case meant, there was a lot more than what met the eye. Else, why would an integrous lawyer, especially Mr. Sharma himself, represent a rape-accused?
Having Mr. Sharma for a lawyer, was no less than a miracle, for he was simply superb. One of the finest criminal defense attorney, he remained adept at his job, always striving to achieve the ideal possible outcome for his clients, in their situation. Besides, he was a remarkably righteous person, renowned for his tremendously helpful nature.
The hearing went on for six hours. After much cross-questioning, debates, arguments and deliberations, the accused won. The plaintiff admitted that it was a false implication, apologised and accepted an order to reimburse all the legal and incidental expenses to the defendant. Victory of the truth and justice had prevailed which was anyway bound to be, when it was THE MR. SHARMA, who had taken the matter under his wing.
Supporters jammed the winner, in a mad fervour, while he, letting out a huge sigh of relief, folded his hands, looking upwards in a “Thank God” gesture, and breaking himself free off the crowd, headed straight to Mr. Sharma and fell at his feet, crying. Mr. Sharma simply hugged him, patted his back, saying something comforting
The media now tried to hound Mr. Sharma, who instantly disappeared into the judge’s chambers, where he had been summoned. A little while later, as he was spotted in the corridor, he was mobbed again and pounded with questions, the main one being:
“What is it that made you confidently take up the case when no one was willing to endorse it?”
“You can bend it and twist it…You can misuse it and abuse it…but even god cannot change the truth.”
The words were brief, but the eyes spat fire. And with that, he hurried towards his car, drove like a madman, entered home in a frenzy, disorderly state. Tossing his briefcase aside, he shut himself into his room and remained there, for what seemed to be ages…avoiding people and calls for an insane number of hours…staying disconnected from his surroundings…utterly disturbed.
25 years ago, Mr. Peter D’Silva, a security guard, was convicted of rape and murder of a 20-year-old woman.
The chants “Hang the rapist…kill him NOW…BLOOD FOR BLOOD” had rented the air.
Every corner of the nation, was praying for his capital punishment, whereas a powerless Peter, had kept pleading until his last breath, “I did not do it. Please believe me.”
But no one did. Though there weren’t any direct proof, circumstantial evidences stood against him.
“If you are innocent then prove it.” The defense attorney had stated in the court. But, how could he? He was a poor, uneducated man, who had led his life in all honesty, with no influential contacts. And no one just “wanted to believe him”. Considerations of presumptions, drawn from the maxim, ‘Innocent until proven guilty’, were refused in his case.
After 8 years of imprisonment, he could not escape the gallows. He was being subjected to a double punishment, and the law-makers were unwilling to consider that. But nevertheless, he appeared destined to it…by some stroke of previous birth’s Karma, because his mercy petition too was rejected outright.
Little Alex could see through his father’s immaculateness. It was evident that his father had been framed…made a political scapegoat, to prove on record, to the world, that their justice system was efficient…as also to probably ensure an upper hand, in the upcoming elections.
Alex had stood helpless, watching cruel destiny devour his father and his home…for nothing. His mother couldn’t sustain and succumbed to a massive cardiac arrest, even before the public hanging. His family was destroyed out of nowhere, for a crime never committed.
During his final moments, when Peter got a chance to meet his family, one last time, this is what he had told his 10-year-old son.
“You can bend it and twist it…You can misuse it and abuse it…but even god cannot change the truth.
These people are fools. They do not know what they are doing, and Karma will get even with them. I don’t regret, even it doesn’t.
But you must always remember this…after us, YOU WILL LIVE…live to be a good, honourable man…a man without any bitterness but with only compassion in your heart…just like your father…one who unswervingly abides and stands ONLY BY THE TRUTH.
Else I shall never attain peace in my, afterlife.
Promise me Alex, you will do both.”, he insisted urgently, in a frenzy.
“Yes Dad. I promise”. Poor, desolate Alex could do nothing more for his dying father. So, the promise, he gave…as he stood there for the longest moments, looking at his father for the last time, with a huge lump forming in his throat…silent tears spilling from his eyes, for he had resolved not to breakdown before him, but failed, since he ended up doing just that…into an earth-shattering scream, followed by a heart-wrenching cry, while his father had held him tight….to comfort him, with all his strength and dignity.
And that day, Alex vowed…vowed to himself. He will live only for these two promises his entire life and look at nothing else.
After his father’s death, the orphanage took him over. He was moved from place to place. But, in course of time, he was also lucky to meet some kind Samaritans…who understood him…helped him in various ways…changed his name to Mr. Anand Sharma…to conceal his legacy and give him a new identity…to become the justice lord of his times, who will always fight for the truth.
The name change was to keep up his first promise to his father…to live…and live without any bitterness…for if people got to know that he was the son of a rapist, the late Mr. Peter D’Silva, who was inflicted a capital punishment, he would not be allowed to live…he had therefore, to continue this charade forever.
His decision to become an attorney, was to come into power through his work, so that he could fight for the cause of protecting those innocent lives, who needed such help, like his unfortunate father, once had.
Life had thrown a boulder upon him, too young, but he had decided to amass diamonds, in the form of blessings of all those people he kept helping.
Today, as he sat in his room…with the same lump in his throat…that slowly went on to break into the same heart-wrenching cry…as he had done on that day, when he had last met his father…as he always did, whenever he was questioned by the media…the same media who had played a huge part then, in massacring his father’s rectitude and life, his own family and his real self.
But as always, he would gather himself again, stand up to face the world as Mr. Anand Sharma, assume that pre-ordained role of a messiah, only once his heart would temporarily stop bleeding, from the remembrances of his wonderful father.