A shout, then a noise THUD
As I edged towards the stone railings an unnerving memory of years ago came rushing back. The same sound ``Some one's cupboard has fallen down,'' Appu screamed as we ran towards the door clutching our Superman comics. Suddenly my mom appeared out of nowhere and barred the door, and as we fought through the folds of her saree to have a look outside at the source of that sound, a scream pierced the air. A day later the boy from the fourth floor, his face and body wrapped in shrouds of clothes, was carried away in a haze of smoke.
My stomach in a tight knot I looked down two floors to see a man running away holding his hands to his face... and then I saw the body as a pool of blood started to stain the tiles.
I rushed down - 250 words or may be 300 I thought - to the crowd that gathered around the body, no one willing to check if it was human. The cops came and turned the life less lump over the stretcher - the face smashed into the skull, the wrists respectfully crossed over his chest.
Travelling back, his story in my notepad, as the bus moved at a snails pace through the evening traffic at D N Road, I thought about his family learning about the news - from the ticker on the TV or a phone call. Was it an accident or did he take his life, that question would haunt the family their whole lives.
What had he thought when he left home in the morning for work. Did he tell his wife that he loved her more than anything in the world or had he sworn at his children. Was his lover waiting at the bus stop for him to finish his work so that they could say sorry and make up for the quarrel that they had last week. Was he saving money to buy his children Christmas presents or waiting for the night to fall to down his tipple.
``He was standing near the railings on the third floor of the high court, when he slipped and fell. In mid air his body did an about turn and he fell on his face,'' Shinde, the peon who was on duty in the opposite wing, regaled the audience that had gathered around him asking him to repeat the incident for the 99th time the next day.
All that remained of William Samson D' Souza's (47), life was the lifeless lump, the traces of blood stains that the staff had missed on the tiles and 250 words in a corner of the newspaper.
-----------------------
William Samson D' Souza's (47), fell to his death around 5.15 pm from the third floor of the gothic Bombay High Court building on November 19, 2007.
As I edged towards the stone railings an unnerving memory of years ago came rushing back. The same sound ``Some one's cupboard has fallen down,'' Appu screamed as we ran towards the door clutching our Superman comics. Suddenly my mom appeared out of nowhere and barred the door, and as we fought through the folds of her saree to have a look outside at the source of that sound, a scream pierced the air. A day later the boy from the fourth floor, his face and body wrapped in shrouds of clothes, was carried away in a haze of smoke.
My stomach in a tight knot I looked down two floors to see a man running away holding his hands to his face... and then I saw the body as a pool of blood started to stain the tiles.
I rushed down - 250 words or may be 300 I thought - to the crowd that gathered around the body, no one willing to check if it was human. The cops came and turned the life less lump over the stretcher - the face smashed into the skull, the wrists respectfully crossed over his chest.
Travelling back, his story in my notepad, as the bus moved at a snails pace through the evening traffic at D N Road, I thought about his family learning about the news - from the ticker on the TV or a phone call. Was it an accident or did he take his life, that question would haunt the family their whole lives.
What had he thought when he left home in the morning for work. Did he tell his wife that he loved her more than anything in the world or had he sworn at his children. Was his lover waiting at the bus stop for him to finish his work so that they could say sorry and make up for the quarrel that they had last week. Was he saving money to buy his children Christmas presents or waiting for the night to fall to down his tipple.
``He was standing near the railings on the third floor of the high court, when he slipped and fell. In mid air his body did an about turn and he fell on his face,'' Shinde, the peon who was on duty in the opposite wing, regaled the audience that had gathered around him asking him to repeat the incident for the 99th time the next day.
All that remained of William Samson D' Souza's (47), life was the lifeless lump, the traces of blood stains that the staff had missed on the tiles and 250 words in a corner of the newspaper.
-----------------------
William Samson D' Souza's (47), fell to his death around 5.15 pm from the third floor of the gothic Bombay High Court building on November 19, 2007.
