A young man discovers the cruel fate of his childhood friend. Subodh stepped off the train as it stopped briefly at the small railway station that served the village of Bhimanagar. With the gathering dusk, flocks of migratory starlings streaked across the darkening sky as they made their way to a grove of trees nearby to roost.

It was the time John was struggling to find his feet and adapt to the phenomenon of ‘professionalism’ that meant the dominance of brain over the heart while slaughtering his human sensitivity. Perhaps that was a requirement in the cut-throat world of crime reporting marked by stiff competitiveness.

Kite Flying I have always believed in justice. But, poetic justice had always been a thing synonymous to an illusion for me. Whenever someone talked of poetic justice, I had always put it at par with poetry — a thing which is good to listen to and talk about, but which never becomes reality. This had continued to be my perception until I met Shahid Qadri. Shahid came across as an affable person in his mid forties when I met him sometime in the year 2004 in Ahmedabad, the most