No Illusions in Xanadu

by Ruby Gupta

  Could it be some star who was not getting the roles he wanted, since they were all offered to Rajvir? No, this seemed farfetched. Which star could possibly fall into this category? It had to be one of the senior actors. There were not many of them around. Rajvir was even at this age, being offered an entire gamut of roles – ranging from the romantic lead, to action hero, to sensitive yet key character roles.

  Shantanu could not think of any other actor who could even hope to fill Rajvir’s rather large shoes – whether he was alive or not.

  Could it be some disgruntled producer who was not given dates by Rajvir? Or some financier who could have lost money on a Rajvir project? Could it be a case of some kind extortion attempt gone wrong? He had heard how some time in the past certain top stars had received extortion threats from the underworld to either pay up or their lives would be in danger.

  This underground mafia had links with Dubai he remembered reading somewhere. Could this be the case? They had asked Rajvir to pay up and when he did not comply, had extracted their revenge.

  He had heard of such a thing several years ago and then all such rumours had simply died down. Did it all die down by itself? Or was it that the threatened stars had quietly paid up on the sly? So maybe the extortion was still continuing since all these years. This theory did seem to have some merit. There was no harm in getting it checked out. Shantanu made a mental note about asking Bhogle to have this theory vetted.

  Could it be some lady whose affections Rajvir had scorned? And she had put into action her version of hell on the star? Who were his female leads? There were really too many.

  In addition to them, it could very well be some aspiring actress who could fall into this category. Would such a woman go to such lengths as to kill him? This could be possible. For who could really fathom the depth of emotions that a woman carried within her? The professor smiled wryly.

  But why would Rajvir scorn what was on offer? He certainly did not seem to have done so in the past – this is what he had gathered from Pallavi.

  He would only do so in the eventuality of being too heavily involved already, or due to being in love. Could it be possible that he was in love with Natalie? Was that possible? It could, given the fact that Natalie was carrying his child.

  So, this rejected woman then in a fit of fury decided to do away with not only Rajvir, but also Natalie and their unborn child. Which woman would fit the bill here?

  So, let’s see, he thought; it could be some producer, some rival star, some financier, the underworld, some jealous woman or one of his immediate family members.

  This was no good; he was going around in circles. Shantanu rubbed the nape of his neck in frustration. He had built up so many options about the possible suspects and motives, that he was now thoroughly confused. Was he losing it?

  Later, as Professor Shantanu lay tossing and turning in bed, sleep was not forthcoming. This case was becoming more and more personal. It seemed to him that he had to solve the murders and set everything right.

  He knew that the reason he was so upset was Pallavi. He seemed to have developed a feeling of some kind of personal responsibility for Pallavi’s wellbeing. It was silly, really. But there it was. He could not help it.

  And now with the two murders – in which it was so easy for Pallavi to be implicated – he was becoming more and more scared. He wished he could do something. Take her away from this repugnant world of unethical relationships, wicked deals and dangerous murders.

  ‘But what if it was she who had committed the murders?’ a small voice spoke within him.

  Firmly, he squashed it.

  A couple of hours later, when the conflicting thoughts became too much to bear, Shantanu got up and reluctantly swallowed a couple of sleeping pills from the bottle which he carried with him for such eventualities.

  He needed his sleep if he was to be of any use to Pallavi … of any use in solving the case… hastily he corrected himself in his head, before drifting off into a drug-induced, fitful sleep.

  ‘Swamiji you must help me! And help Amar…’ Pallavi’s voice choked on her words.

  ‘I will. Don’t worry,’ Swami Maheshanandaji laid a hand on her silky head.

  Professor Shantanu resisted the urge to fling his hand away. Somehow controlling himself, he tried to be understanding.

  Pallavi had requested him to accompany her to the swami’s ashram. Since the murder of Natalie, Pallavi had become extremely perturbed. Upon learning of the post-mortem report that Natalie had not only been pregnant, but was carrying Rajvir’s child, she had become increasingly distressed.

  Amar too had become more and more distant, and most of the time, seemed to be lost in some remote world of his own making. All this was taking a heavy toll on her mental peace. Pallavi confided in the professor that it was only a visit to the ashram that could perhaps provide her with some succour, and help her regain her mental equilibrium. And so, he had accompanied her here to the ashram, much against his wishes.

  ‘First, I would like you to relax with the help of a light massage, and then I will personally guide you through some meditation and yogic kriyas which will induce calm in your psyche,’ Maheshananda spoke.

  Pallavi nodded tremulously.

  ‘Then, after I have taken care of you, I will see what more needs to be done for Amar. I think he needs more intense counselling from me,’ the swami spoke reflectively.

  ‘Yes,’ Pallavi said.

  The swami called for an attendant and asked for Pallavi to be taken for a massage.

  Left alone with the swami, Shantanu wondered what to say.

  ‘I am getting a little worried about Pallavi,’ the swami broke the uncomfortable silence.

  ‘Yes. She is very upset,’ Shantanu agreed.

  ‘I hope I am able to help her,’ the swami’s voice held genuine concern.

  ‘I am sure you will. I believe you have powers to do so.’

  ‘Yes. I will do my best.’

  ‘Tell me, have you found the purpose of existence?’ the professor changed the topic, not wanting to discuss Pallavi with him any more than was necessary.

  ‘There is no purpose of existence,’ the swami spoke blandly.

  ‘What?’ Professor Shantanu’s voice rose in surprise. He had not expected such a mundane answer. ‘You mean, after spending all your life in the quest of the higher consciousness, this is your conclusion?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But then, what have you found out?’ Shantanu was genuinely interested.

  ‘I have found that we humans can reach a higher state of consciousness, a higher state of existence by accessing more areas of our brain and gaining more and more control over our bodies and minds. We can develop many kinds of powers within ourselves by following and practising certain yogic techniques. But that is all. Acquiring such powers does not enlighten one about the purpose of human existence.’

  ‘Really?’ Shantanu looked confused.

  ‘Yes. These powers just help you to explore more dimensions of existence, and live more fully. But then you are still living the human existence. There is nothing more than that,’ the swami spoke simply.

  ‘So, you mean to say there is nothing more?’

  ‘No – we are here on earth to simply find the best possible way to express our innate qualities in the fullest possible manner. We simply exist on this mortal plane and should do so in the most peaceful way with the least trouble to ourselves and at the same time contribute in some way to our fellow humans – that is all. And when our time is up, we simply die – and that is the end – period,’ Swami Maheshananda spoke with conviction.

  Professor Shantanu was quiet, trying to assimilate what he had just heard. When the swami after spending his entire life in the quest of spiritual truth was saying such a thing, there had to be some substance to it.

  The silence stretched long.

  After a while, Maheshananda said, ‘Come, I will take you on a round of the ashram. I don’t think you have s
een it properly, right?’

  ‘Okay,’ Shantanu nodded.

  The ashram was spread over several acres. It was dotted with buildings devoted to meditation, libraries, study halls, living quarters, guest bungalows, mess, coffee places, and canteen. The buildings were interspersed with artificially created waterfalls, water bodies, mango groves and lawns over an undulating landscape. It was a beautiful place.

  ‘You have done a great job here,’ Shantanu said.

  ‘Yes,’ the swami smiled, though with no trace of pride.

  ‘How much time did it take you to complete this set up?’

  ‘More than a couple of decades,’

  ‘From where did you get the funding for it?’ Shantanu asked pointedly.

  ‘From donations mostly,’ Maheshananda replied blandly.

  ‘I see,’ Shantanu said with a note of scepticism. There had to be rather large donations in order to establish such a place, he thought.

  ‘My dear Professor, you have a right to be cynical. But I have been doing a service to mankind, and in return, my grateful followers decided to facilitate me to broaden the scope of my work by establishing this place.’

  ‘Okay, what service exactly?’ Shantanu decided to be blunt.

  ‘I help my foreign devotees to find peace of mind, teach them techniques to maintain mental equilibrium at all times irrespective of aggravations that life may throw at them. They are certainly well off materially and do not mind helping me in return. They think that this is such a noble thing that I must be able to widen its scope and carry it further.’

  ‘Okay.’ This was plausible, Shantanu nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘As for my local people, I help the affluent ones in the same way. But the real service I’m doing is to some of the villages in the surrounding areas. I will take you around them and show you what we have been doing. I have established a trust and through it we have set up primary schools, a health care centre and provision of clean drinking water and other facilities,’ the swami spoke earnestly.

  Professor Shantanu looked at the swami with respect. Clearly, he was telling the truth. This was certainly very noble of him. ‘I’m impressed,’ he said in genuine appreciation. A broad smile broke across the swami’s handsome countenance. ‘Whatever you may think, let me tell you, I am not like the other sham swamis that people keep hearing about.’

  ‘Yes, it does not seem that way,’ Shantanu said.

  They had reached a modern-looking building. A young girl received them at the entrance. ‘This is the latest addition to our ashram,’ the swami said. ‘And Kadambari here is in charge of it,’ he introduced the serious-looking girl.

  They walked into what looked like some hi-tech laboratory. ‘What is this?’ Shantanu was surprised.

  ‘This is our facility where we produce pure herbal products and also extract certain useful chemicals from medicinal plants,’ Maheshananda explained.

  Shantanu was impressed.

  ‘Actually, this is the brainchild of Kadambari. She is a chemical engineer from Cal Tech.’

  ‘Really?’ Some of Professor Shantanu’s students were pursuing their Masters and PhD from California Institute of Technology and he beamed at the mention of the prestigious school of engineering.

  ‘Yes,’ Kadambari smiled.

  She was striking, Shantanu noted. It was hard to tell whether she was of foreign or Indian origin. Her name was certainly Indian, but her features seemed distinctly Caucasian, augmented more so by her deep green eyes and flowing brown hair. But he did not think it appropriate to quiz her on it. It would seem too forward of him and completely unwarranted. ‘How did you get interested in all this?’ he asked instead.

  ‘Since long I have been disenchanted by the western models of health and the allopathic approach to healing. Alternative medicine has always attracted me. Having known swamiji all my life, it was perhaps natural that I be drawn to Ayurveda and the concept of holistic health. The philosophy of seeing the person as a whole – mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically, and then deciding the best course of healing for him or her,’ she spoke softly.

  This was good work being done here, Shantanu had to concede. And this was one bright and dedicated girl. ‘Keep it up. I am always happy to see young people who retain their idealism and work for the betterment of others,’ he spoke in his professorial mode.

  As they walked back, Maheshananda said, ‘So what do you think now?’

  ‘I have to agree that you are indeed doing something worthwhile,’ the professor said.

  ‘I am trying my best.’

  ‘But how will this continue once you are gone?’ Shantanu hesitatingly asked.

  ‘This thought has come to you due to Rajvir’s death, hasn’t it? You have been thinking that Amar is not likely to carry forth his father’s legacy, right?’ the swami asked perceptively.

  ‘Yes,’ Shantanu nodded.

  ‘I have already planned it. I am grooming Kadambari to take over after I am gone,’ Maheshananda said.

  ‘Oh!’ Shantanu was surprised. He had not expected the swami to choose a woman as his successor.

  ‘I am not a sexist,’ the swami said, almost reading his mind. ‘I have decided this on the basis of a well thought out strategy. I want someone young, dynamic, proactive, well-educated, professionally qualified, conversant with both Indian and Western philosophy, and who is wise as well. Kadambari fits the bill on all counts. So, what if she is supposedly of the wrong gender?’

  The way he put it, it certainly sounded sane, Shantanu thought. ‘I think you have decided correctly. Now tell me something, surely you must have drawn some conclusion about who murdered Rajvir?’ he asked.

  ‘I have thought a great deal about it,’ Maheshananda admitted. ‘But I really am unable to come to a firm conclusion.’

  ‘But surely you of all people should be able to do so. He was your best friend. You have been close to the family and have been mentoring and guiding all of them. Who else but you could pinpoint the identity of the killer?’ Shantanu spoke fervently.

  ‘You are right, of course. Based upon everything, I can only conclude that it must be some outsider who must have done it. It certainly cannot be someone in the family,’ the swami spoke slowly.

  Was Maheshananda saying this in an attempt to try and shield some family member, particularly Pallavi, Shantanu thought, as a surge of jealousy washed over him. ‘You really think so? In that case what could the motive be?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, that bit has me perplexed. I think it could be due to professional jealousy or something to do with a deal involving a large sum of money, or it could simply be a crazy person,’ he said.

  ‘I see,’ Shantanu said. ‘And what about Natalie? Why was she murdered?’

  ‘Probably by some crazy fan. Sometimes these foreign models have dangerous stalkers. Or maybe it was her possessive boyfriend, that Lucas, who killed her…’

  ‘Perhaps,’ the professor said.

  ‘I think we should go and check on Pallavi now,’ Swami Maheshananda said, and they headed in the direction of the main central building of the ashram.

  Chapter 16

  Professor Shantanu sat in front of Bhogle, in the latter’s office, sipping the ghastly tea that had been brought in.

  ‘How do you drink this stuff?’ he asked, wrinkling his nose.

  ‘Easily – after years of practice,’ a mocking smile appeared on the inspector’s face.

  The case was grating on the professor’s nerves and having made no headway so far, he had decided to drop in at the inspector’s office.

  ‘Where have you reached on the case?’ Professor Shantanu asked.

  ‘Nowhere!’ Bhogle ran his fingers roughly through his rather profuse moustache.

  There was silence.

  ‘Now what?’

  ‘You tell me!’ Bhogle’s voice held frustration.

  ‘Let us look at the clues we have,’

  ‘What clues? We really have nothing to go on,’ Bhogle was
weary.

  ‘Just think. Let us start from day one. What all did you gather from Rajvir’s study when you were summoned after the body was found?’ Professor Shantanu said.

  ‘Well, we took fingerprints. They all checked out with people who had a legitimate reason to be there. The gun was of course wiped clean. Apart from that, we really did not find anything out of place, or out of the ordinary.’

  ‘Let me have a look at the gun,’ Shantanu said.

  Reluctantly, Bhogle fished out a plastic zip bag from his drawer.

  Shantanu’s eyes were caught by a shiny glint in the bag ‘What is that?’ he asked.

  Inspector Bhogle opened the bag. Inside it was two smaller bags. One contained a gun and the other contained a small, shiny, silver object.

  Bhogle had forgotten all about it.

  ‘God knows what it is. We found it on the day of finding the body,’ he said, bringing it out.

  It seemed to be some kind of silver flower with a glistening ruby embedded in the centre and two elongated spikes at the end. Perhaps some kind of feminine ornament.

  ‘I – I’ve seen it before,’ Professor Shantanu spoke musingly.

  ‘Really? Where?’ Bhogle perked up, and his eyes brightened.

  Professor Shantanu forced his brain to go into overdrive.

  Inspector Bhogle waited patiently.

  ‘Yes – now I remember. I think I saw Mridula wearing something like it.’

  ‘Really! But how, when? We have had it here. So, did you see her wearing it before the murder?’

  ‘No, I had never met Mridula before, since she did not stay at Xanadu. I must have seen it later only,’ Shantanu said.

  ‘And how was she wearing it? On her sari?’ Bhogle was puzzled. He could not understand what the ornament was, or how it was worn.

  ‘No. She was wearing it in her hair. Remember, she mostly wears her long hair in a bun. She has the habit of adorning one side of the bun with some kind of jewellery. This seems to be some kind of bun-pin I think, and most definitely, she was wearing it one day. I can now see it clearly in my mind’s eye,’ Shantanu spoke convinced.