A week has passed.
Dusk can be seen making its presence felt on the horizon. Still there was no rest to the bat Sridhar was holding.
Sixes have frequented the skies from blue to vermilion. And he was still hitting fours for fun.
Having single handedly won the match for his team today, he was in great mood and vibing along with his friends.

They were joking on how Sridhar seems to be the Virat Kohli of the local team. Slowly he has started to make friends in the new locality, as well as adjusting to life at Shanti Villa.
By adjusting, one refers to those horrible water shortages during the summer months and the proximity of living with so many people in such small space.

What if Not Shanti Villa moulds people like Mrs.Darshan a true vigilanty, whose ideal place would perhaps have been the Intelligence department of the state police.

As soon as these thoughts, came the person herself, walking along the narrow road beside the low fenced side of the field.
Her walk seemed quite peculiar to Sridhar, who wasn't exactly sure why Mrs.Sridhar would be in such a hurry, especially with her Arthiritis. For a moment Sridhar thought he would run up to her and ask her about the possible reason.

But then he noticed her eyes, panic stricken, fearful, as if she has been scared to her life. Who could possibly scare Mrs. Darshan in that fashion. Nah! Impossible! Sridhar thinks.

A few minutes pass, Sridhar, mostly busy having his share of banter with his friends has mostly forgotten about Mrs. Darshan's peculiar actions when suddenly he hears the sound!
Like a loud firecracker! Something seemed to have shook the locality.

And then there was one more, turning the blood to ice in everyone's veins.
Sridhar knew the sound now. Gunshots.

Right at this moment something happened which etched itself into Sridhar's memory like nothing before. To the west side of the field, was a rubbish dump, flanked by a canopy of mostly weeds and creeps.
A motorbike whizzed past, and for a second Sridhar could see the Gun in his hands.
The driver was at breakneck speed, wearing a black helmet, brown stripped shirts, and seemed to turn towards Sridhar as he drove past, as if he has seen Sridhar before, the sudden digust clear in the way he quickly stopped and pulled the safety clutch of the gun.

A just then, Sridhar used the presence of his mind and lay flat on the field, as moments later two bullets flew, in quick succesion, right through where he was standing.
The Biker has missed, Sridhar knew he didn't have enough time to come back and finish the job.

His friends, having already ran away in search of elders, were seen shouting from the distance as pandemonium broke loose.
Sridhar could clearly hear the people of the locality rush to him. His Father leading the charge as they all picked him up and immidiately to a nearby residence.
Sridhar had survived, but someone hasn't. Sridhar recieved the news fairly soon after. Mrs. Darshan was the one shot.

The First bullet had grazed her neck, but the second was straight to the head. Sridhar was left broken. He felt the terror in his mind.
The scenes of Mrs. Darshan hurrying through the road with fear stricken eyes, kept haunting Sridhar over and over again.

Everyone was, quite naturally, baffled, as to why would anyone murder Mrs.Darshan?
Mr. Mittal especially, was quite outraged at what seemed to have happened. He had not returned home that day by the time this tragic incident occured.
Mrs. darshan used to often frequent his place for tea and gossip, so the police thought he may offer some insight. 

But unfortunately, he too could not come up with a plausible solution as to why would someone commit such an act to poor Mrs.Darshan.
The whole chirkoot colony lived in terror as the minutes ticked on the clock. Sridhar however was really having a hard time understanding how could the biker possibly have recognized him from so far in the field.

To be Continued...