It had been going on for years and he had been the witness for five years, the time spent in that government hospital. When bodies were stitched, the person performing the task seemed to be a cruel cobbler who was mending shoes by stitching them.

After the sale of the organs removed from the dead bodies, they all shared the bounty. He got his share too. Income was good and life was easy but with every passing year he had gone more silent.

His wife often said to him, “Why have you stopped talking to me?”

“What should I talk about?”

“You used to talk a lot before our marriage but in last three or four years you have gone almost silent. Are you not happy with me?” she would insist on getting an answer.

“No, Rama, it is not so. I am very unhappy with me and I can’t tell you why I am unhappy and please don’t ask me,” he said softly.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, go on,” said he.

“Of late I have seen that you have been buying very expensive things for me and for the house. Your salary has not been raised. Could you tell me how?”

How he could tell her that in last two years unnatural deaths had increased immensely, thanks to terrorists and police encounters! About four years before, everything was peaceful in that district but suddenly the winds changed and the young boys began to prefer guns to books and career. Target killings, bomb explosions, kidnapping and killings, and police encounters began to result in scores of dead bodies in a week. Before that it was difficult for him to live on the salary he got from the hospital but one day the three big ones in the operation theatre offered him a proposal. They said that there was good demand of human organs in big cities and they had decided to supply those organs.

On very first day, he was shocked when an unconscious young man, with two bullets in his stomach, was brought to them. With a little effort they could have saved him but they did not do so. One of them said that an agent had offered him a huge sum for a fresh kidney. The other two agreed with him and they killed the wounded young man but after his death they removed one of his kidneys and put it in a special refrigerated box and sent away from the hospital. He wanted to protest but they threatened him of dire consequences. Secondly, the money they gave him was more than his three months’ salary.

Next morning, the three big ones informed the police and the relatives of the young man that they were unable to save him. They had already done the postmortem examination of the dead body. They handed the relatives a certificate of death and postmortem examination.

That night, in spite of having a fat sum in his pocket, he was unable to eat. His wife tried to persuade him and offered to press his legs and body if he felt tired but he made an excuse that he was not feeling well and went to bed without anything in his stomach.

The guilt and burden of that heinous act lasted for a few days and after a few days everything returned to normal. He had sold his soul and he had accepted that disgusting and frightening aspect of human conduct.

Three years passed and in those three years he bought a house and furnished it with the best of the available items in the market. On being asked by the people, he said that he had sold his share of land in his village whereas the truth was that he did not have an inch of ancestral land in the village. His father had already sold whatever land he had.

His wife often insisted on having a baby but he never agreed, giving one or the other excuse.

“We have everything now. Don’t you want to be a father?”

Hiding his embarrassment, he said, “I do want to be a father but not now. You will have to wait for a few years.”

His conscience did not permit him to bring up a little child in the house whose very foundation had been raised on the organs of the fellow human beings. He was dying every day and smiles had left him forever. He never rejoiced at festivals and other occasions which brought happiness. On such occasions, he would mostly tell his wife that he had to go out of station on official duty. His innocent wife never suspected that her husband was going through a turmoil never even imagined about. He would pack his things and leave the town. Away from that town, he would reach an unknown place and check in a hotel and spend a few days there, mostly reading books in his room.

Last week, his father retired and he decided to live with his son. He was happy that his father’s presence would give him the support he needed. His mother had already passed away when he was in college. He was the only child of his working parents.

Three days with his father passed quickly. He had resolved that he would not assist in the crime he had been committing almost every day in his hospital. He knew that it was not going to be easy and the three big ones would never agree. He had determined if they did not agree, he would leave the job. In his thoughts and plans he had gone to such an extent that he would sell his house there and move to his village with the money and buy a piece of land there. He wanted to start afresh.

He was in the operation theatre when, suddenly, the sirens of ambulances disturbed the calm prevailing in the surrounding garden of the hospital. Six ambulances entered the main gate, one after another. Sixteen people had been seriously wounded in an explosion that had taken place near the Shiva temple in the centre of the town.

They began to bring the victims in to the emergency ward. The three big ones seemed to be overjoyed because they had already taken advance for the supply of a few organs.

Since it was his last day there, he did whatever he could do to help them in the operation theatre. Thirteen people were out of danger but three could not be saved, or the three big ones did not want to save. After the postmortem examination, having removed the organs which they needed, they gave him his share of money.

He was about to inform them about his decision of leaving the job, when his eyes fell on the feet of one of the dead bodies. One foot had six toes. His heart began to race and he came close to the covered body. He removed the white sheet and looked at the face. He was stunned and frightened. It was his father lying dead, dissected, and stitched in front of him.

The three big ones had already left the theatre and he was alone with those dead bodies. He did not know how to react, for tears refused to develop and mouth did not help in the production of a cry or a shriek.

He rushed out of the room and began to run aimlessly.

The next morning, the brutally butchered dead bodies of the three big ones were found in their rooms in the hostel of the hospital where they lived. Everything had been performed so professionally that no clue could ever lead to the killer.

He continued to do his job for a few months. He had already found a buyer of the house.

After a few months, while the bus was carrying him and his wife to the village where he had already bought a piece of land, he said to his wife, “I think I want to be a father now.”

His wife jumped with joy from her seat, indifferent to the presence of the other passengers in the bus. She put her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

The bus was passing over a huge bridge and a flowing river could be seen below. He pulled a long knife which he had kept hidden under his shirt and, making sure that no one was watching him, flung it into the rushing river.