Bangalore Psycho – A Killer On The Loose – Chapter 1

It was a brisk rain that disturbed the weather that night in Bangalore. The glorified potholes were illusionary puddles that pedestrians and commuters were not able to differentiate between. Walking through these morbid roads filled with remorse was a moron who had just tasted blood.

Black eyes, long hair, a set of teeth that told tales of his smoking adventures, 180 centimeters of bone and muscles that had not seen day light in months and an unusual set of hands made him stand out on that lonely road. He was proud of his hands; they were not steady and had started shaking when he was 4 years old. He could not hold a pen for long neither could he hold his drink for periods enough to keep him sane. As he walked he could feel the metal inside his pants poke him constantly, the knife was sharp and yet he had it submerged it inside his trousers, a few inches away from his manly treasure.

A few meters away, the watchman had called in the police. Zaltrac Yeda, the officer on duty had extinguished 4 cigarettes in the police jeep on his way to crime scene. Every time he lit one, he put it off immediately. He threw the pack of cigarettes away as soon as he reached the shady apartment in BTM Layout where the watchman was waiting for him at the gate. Zaltrac saw the watchman trembling with fear and was completely wet thanks to the betraying Bangalore rains.

“What did you see?” Zaltrac patted the watchman and walked with him like college mates towards the 3rd floor.

“There was a huge scream; I thought the lady is having a party at her home. These days, most of the women do that when they are having drinks.”

“True, they do scream but there is a difference but you wouldn’t know unless you have seen a murder before. Have you seen one?”

“No, sir.” The watchman pressed the elevator button as Zaltrac let go off his shoulder.

“I want to go through the stairs.” Zaltrac pointed towards the dark passage that led towards the staircase.

“It is very dark there. I have complained many times to the owner but they have not responded.”

“You come by the elevator. I will take the staircase.”

The rain seemed adamant to pour down till it got exhausted itself completely. The entire city was laidback today but not the man who had just pierced his knife through human flesh for the second time today. The first time was in his college when he had stabbed a professor in the buttocks as he would not let him sit in the class. The knife holder had always been mischievous but that day he had burnt down chemistry notes of his classmate, and the professor had punished him by making him stand on his chair. Alas! The professor could never ever sit again in his life.

Zaltrac climbed up the dark staircase and slowly opened the door of the apartment which had started to smell foul by now. He knew that it was not the body so he immediately went to the kitchen vibrating his nose like a dog hungry for meat. He peeped into the kitchen sink and shouted his constable’s name.

“Janak, clear this kitchen of these rotten eggs first else I will not be able to work here.”

In the living room, the watchman stood next to the body. Her eyes had started turning blue and her hair been chopped off and thrown around. She had been stabbed once in the abdomen and once in her eye socket. Zaltrac looked closely at her eyes and tried sniffing it like a drug addict as the watchman looked in bewilderment.

“What was her name?”

“Samita, Samita Ghorpade. She was from Belgaum and working here in an advertising agency. She came back from work today at 7 pm and did not move out after that.”

“Answer what is asked, I hate long essay like answers.”

“Yes, sir.” The watchman replied.

“Did she have a boyfriend, husband, fiancé, or any friend zoned friend or a best friend?”

“I think she had all of them. Every day, there was a new guy.”

“She was a Tarot Card reader, she had just finished her certification, and I think they were her clients.” Janak interrupted their conversation. Zaltrac stared at him with conviction until he replied again, “The kitchen is clean now, sir. It does not stink.”

Zaltrac walked around the house slowly observing each and every thing. She had pictures of Gods from different religions on her wall. Secular!

“We found her Tarot cards in the balcony, it is smeared with blood.” Janak interrupted his thoughts again.

“Match the blood with her blood.”

The rain had fizzled out by now and inside a sewage tunnel, somewhere near the railway quarters, the knife was taken out and given a bath. He was hungry. He wanted to kill again. He had already pushed his knife through bodies that night. He took out a hair band from his pocket and tied his hair up and lighted a Cigar. Something to celebrate a murder, in fact two of them!

Zaltrac was looking down from the balcony when his phone rang again. He talked for a few seconds and kept the phone down, made his way to the living room again and shouted loudly.

“Janak, seal this place up. Take a statement from the watchman, torture him if you want but I want the truth, he is lying, I know that for sure. One more body has been called in, an astrologer near Silk Board. She has been stabbed in the eye as well.”

To Be Continued….

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Stage Fear Is Just An Illusion

alcatraz dey

Back in the academy, during my third term, public speaking competition was introduced for the first time.

My squadron, Delta, won the championship twice in a row as we had some kickass speakers. Come, sixth term and the rules were changed. Instead of allowing squadrons to nominate good speakers, the authorities started choosing random cadets from each course. So, basically they chose cadets who had never spoken before or were really bad at it. Being the public speaking captain, I was responsible for the chosen speakers.

Of the 12 speakers nominated, 9 were real bad speakers. They had never faced an audience in their life and all of us were worried that we would lose. Fact was, the other squadrons also faced the same problem. I used to call all the speakers post dinner and make them speak. It was hard to even make them remember the speech and then present it with annotations and expressions. One of the very few instances in Academy, where I had lost my temper on a few juniors as they were totally underconfident. Three days before the event, I called the entire squadron and made the speakers present their speeches. It was beyond dismal.

“ Everyone sitting here, all 120 of them are as idiotic and unaware as you are. What you’re speaking is also shit, just shoot that shit with confidence.” The squadron cadet captain, one of my coursemates spoke.

“For the squadron’s sake, please give it your best.” I too barged in with a request.

The next three days we practiced non stop. Each and every sentence was practiced again and again in front of the mirror, during classes, during the showers, literally everywhere. We did not win that term but the speakers were brilliant. They spoke well beyond their abilities on the day, and that made everyone proud.

A few guys couldn’t even utter a word on the first day and they spoke like they were born orators.

After that when I took all of them out for dinner in the cafeteria, one of them said, “Shoot shit with confidence works, sir. When I was speaking, I did not feel like anyone was watching, I just spoke because I wanted to.”

The key to overcoming stage fear is practice, practice and practice combined with the understanding of how much shit you can shoot at a particular audience. When I look back now at those days, I am thankful I had the opportunity to do that. Today, when I interact with students in colleges and other places, a part of me is thankful to the academy for making me a potent speaker through so many experiences.

Originally answered on Quora. 


Nobody Bothers If You’re Not Crazy

alcatraz dey

Till the time I was normal, no one bothered.
The sad truth is that no one would even make way for until you’re really special or you’re slapstick crazy and it is completely justified with billions of people on this planet.
We always hear people talking about how different they are but trust me most of them are just 9 to 5 slaves who just crave for good sleep and money in their bank. Tell them to go one week without money and they will lose their sanity.
You want to be different? 
Start by being crazy first. Yes, the normal ones just die without doing anything living in their own comfort zone. You have to be badass crazy to live life on your own terms and for me crazy is not being insane, it is just something that others don’t have the balls to be. Anything a person cannot do or achieve is either stupid or non consequential to them. So, don’t be that lazy corporate slave wishing he could quit his job because this life is ending for you in the next 15-20 years. Even if you go a day without food, it will be better than you listening to your sorry-ass boss who thinks you’re good for nothing.
Ask yourself what is important for you? A job or a life? Someone to love or something to love? I can tell you now and for your whole life that it will come down to these things when you die, no one is going to even turn up at your funeral other than those people who believe in your craziness.
24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year and a sorry 40-50 years of life. You have already spent 25 years of it learning something which will not be useful in the field you work. Doesn’t that make you feel useless? The only way to get out of this rut is to be crazy and in the process not hurt anyone.
Be fucking logically crazy.
Don’t fade away!
Be infectious, be crazy and not worry what the world will think, it’s busy waging wars eating up humanity.

Thank You Pain!

I have been a mess all my life trying to run behind things I clearly knew I was meant for but just like most of you I was wrong more often than not.
I gave up my emotions, finances and choices so that I could see someone else happy. I’m not that sort of a human who finds happiness within himself, I am not programmed like that. For years, it was just one person in whom I found all that I needed. Today, I realise there are millions of people out there in whose happiness I can find my own.
I guess the pain associated with my constant ramblings and encounters with above mentioned facet of mine has made me a believer in humanity. I try to observe people and understand why they behave in a certain manner, perhaps they’re not crazy, I know for sure they’re just dealing with an interior source of pain.

Yet I believe, yes, I still believe it is all for the good in the end.
Thank you pain!
You made me a believer!

The Purpose Of Life

Alcatraz Dey

Fighting through the most basic necessities and fancied whims of other people, sometimes we all saturate and feel like fading away. It is indeed troublesome to see the world suffering and struggling whilst a few filthy and undeserving scrounge away to glory.

Where is the sanity and where is the justice? Are they waiting in the darkness and will they ever come?

Such questions always arise in my mind and I am sure they do in many of the readers. I guess, it is a basic human trait to ponder about humanity as you start perceiving more and more of it. High infant mortality rates, militancy, homicides, sexual molestation of minors, famines, undernourishment, heartbreaks, rejections and failures are the terms that I come across the day numerous times. I stand up and ask myself, what is the purpose of life if we have to suffer through all this?

I am absolutely not a philosophical geek nor am I learned man who can tell you the logical facts behind it. However, having lived a life equivalent to an English breakfast clubbed with an extra spicy Indian lunch buffet, I can briefly tell you how I perceive the world. To begin with, everything we know is a one big lie, in strands of time and in certain memories, they seem factual but with time, every fact and truth changes.

Just like energy, it changes its state from one form to another, on the corollary, I will put it forward that a truth and a lie are similar to an impulse of positive and negative energy irrespective of wherever it arises from. A lie will eventually gather enough negative energy to become a catastrophe. A truth may sooner or later be affected by some sort of energy and it may change. For instance, today your age might be 22 and that is the truth but with the interference of energy, your age after a year will be 23. Hence, the truth is changed.

Coming back to the question at our hand, finding the purpose of our life in this seemingly complex world is but a herculean task but all we need to do blindly is spread and increase the positive energy around us. That is the sole purpose of living, to leave behind more positive energy than there was when you were born. Everything else is a hoax or a truth that can be changed according to favors and corruption.

So, next time you ask yourself, why the hell am I alive? Remember that you were born to spread energy, the good one, around you in any manner possible, through your actions, words, music, teachings or just a plain simple smile.

It isn’t that hard to be honest, we fucking humans have complicated it up.