Short story - The Accident

Inspector Roy hated this part of the job. The early grey morning seemed to reflect his mood as he walked out of the police station and stepped into his jeep.

“Hospital” he told his driver.

He didn’t want to look at the newspaper the driver had thoughtfully kept near his seat.

The newspapers would be full of news of the car crash that happened late in the night yesterday. Reckless teenagers had rammed into a car killing 55 year old rich businessman, Mr. Raj Rastogi and seriously injuring his wife Mrs. Ruchi Rastogi.

Mr. Roy had just come out from the police station after meeting the suspects. In the lockup, the teenagers had been defiant. They had been drunk but then they said that the fault was Mr. Rastogi’s. He had lost control of his car.

“Rich kids, sir, too much money, no control” sub-inspector Pande had told him.

Anupam Roy had looked at them, the three boys in their designer denims, tees and branded watches. Bright minds with bright futures.

He hated the thought of all it being wiped out in a single instance, a single mistake. But if they were indeed guilty, they would need to pay the price.

But for now, he had something more unpleasant to deal with. Even though he hated it, he wanted personally break the news to the victim’s family. He always did that.

In a few minutes, Mr. Roy reached the hospital.

Mrs. Rastogi, the elderly widow was strapped to her hospital bed, looking frail and helpless and tired. 

Anupam felt infinite pity for the pale face that seemed almost invisible under the mass of pillows.

But, he had to do his duty. He had to break the news that would probably break her heart and numb her mind.

“Mrs. Rastogi, we are very sorry to inform you that your husband died in the accident yesterday night,” Anupam said as gently as he could.

Ruchi Rastogi stared at the inspector. Her body was still racked with pains. Though he was standing near her, his words seemed to be coming from such a great distance that she scarcely understood what he was saying.

Sensing her confusion, Anupam Roy again repeated himself, adding how sorry he was for her loss.

He was looking at her kindly. The nurse was standing right next to her, ready to shoo away the inspector, if he asked her any more questions.

“Can’t you see she is so weak, poor lady, she has lost so much blood?” the nurse spoke angrily.

They were all staring at her, waiting for tears, for loud cries, for protests, for grief.

Ruchi Rastogi finally understood what they were saying. Images of the last night flashed in front of her eyes.

She had seen the young boys driving towards them before Raj had. He had been driving fast as usual and speaking without a break.

At what moment had the plan crossed her mind? She was not sure. Was it when he had started shouting as usual, when he had said he would never forgive their daughter Sheila for running away from their home and choosing to make her own career in music, a field so far away and removed from his world of murky business deals?

“How can she do this?” he had shouted, “she has to join the family company.”

“It’s your fault, I don’t have a son. At least then I wouldn’t have to see this day.”

“My daughter and a singer! How shameful! If she dares to do this, I’ll not only cut her off without a penny, I’ll destroy her career.”

“I have enough contacts. She’ll never even get close to dreaming about music.” he had snarled, his face red with anger.

She had tried to reason with him.

“It’s her life; let her choose to live as she does” she had tried saying.

But he had stopped her mid-sentence as usual. Secretly, she was glad her daughter had the courage to move away from Raj was and choose to build her own life. All her life Ruchi had seen the shady deals Raj had cracked and become richer and richer by the day. She had lacked the courage to run away herself and silently suffered his barbed comments and angry insults all her life while instilling in her daughter the courage to dream.

Everyone had thought, she was lucky, the wife of a rich man. But she had never wanted to be rich, she had just wanted happiness and she could never be happy with a man like Raj.

She knew then that he would never change. He would never let anyone else live their dreams, never tolerate any other thoughts but his own.

30 years of control had snapped in an instant at that moment.

The last few moments were but a blur. She saw the speeding car rushing towards them. She could hardly remember when she had pushed his hand away from the steering wheel, when he lost control, the last glimpse of his stunned face when he realized what she had done. She would always remember that look.

She didn’t much care for her life anymore, but she just didn’t want him to live. And she wanted Sheila to finally live.

They felt she was shocked, too shocked to cry.

“Give her some rest”, she heard the nurse say to the inspector. The inspector nodded and said that he would come back to speak with her again later. Everyone was sorry for her, the poor widow whose husband had died.

She hid the joy that spread through her heart at the knowledge that she was alone, alive and free and Sheila could finally live her dreams.

Tomorrow, she would think of what she would say to the kind inspector. Maybe tomorrow, even tears would come. Today she just wanted to sleep, free.