The Mysterious Old Man – Creative Writing

He came like the wind, as it from nowhere. As the gently wind ruffles the placid surface of a still pond, his project caused small ripples on the smooth surface of the peaceful life that prevailed in our small liquidation. At that epoch none of us had the foggiest idea of the shape of things to get on.Perched on the sea- facing slope of a hill that forms break out of a mountain rampart along the seaboard, our village was a perfect haven for anyone who hated current civilization. It took a half twenty-four hourss walk by a footpath to the skilfulest town. The march of time has go forth us behind by a decade. In a way we were happy that the wind of transfer did not blow in our village. We are contented with life as it is, for it is very much the kindred as it used to be for centuries. Our village folks were mostly fisher human and peasants.The fertile land and the teeming sea were very generous towards us in their gifts. There was a village shop keeper whos name was Ahmed, who used to get us a few(prenominal) things we needed from the outside world. Visitors from the outside world were few and far between who would care to visit such a godforsaken place? When occasional visitors came, they ineluctably arouse our suspicion and so it was when this hostile came.To be frank, there was nought strange about him. just to the simple folks of our village anyone from the outside world was strange and mysterious. So from the very beginning, we looked upon him with suspicion. He was outgrowth realisen at Ahmeds shop. A canvasm, the coffee shop attendant approached him to ask him what he wanted. Taking his seat, the stranger placed his examine bag on a table and ordered a cup of coffee. Aseem brought the coffee while imbibe the table, he lifted the canvas bag and placed it on a chair. Two blood-shot eyes that seemed to see through everything transfixed Aseem. My bag, muttered the stranger curtly, will remain where I placed it. No one shall get h grey-h eaded of it.Aseem just managed to mumble something apologetically. He placed the bag where it was. The stranger sat there, sipping the coffee and puffing a cigar. There were just a few people in the coffee shop then. They all viewd at him through he corners of their eyes as if they did not want him to know that he was being watched. no(prenominal) dared to approach him. They whispered comments it was certain that the stranger had aroused their curiosity. Meanwhile the stranger sat there, as if he was in a deep though, eyes distant. He was about sixty, lanky of frame with a flag at the shoulders. Having paid for his drink, the stranger went along the foot-path that led towards the nearest town. Those who saw him leaving hoped that they would see no more of him in our village.They were proved wrong he was there again on the next day and the next. He frequented Aseems coffee shop meanwhile news of the stranger figured prominently in the dish the dirt of our village. They all had something to say about him. except opinion varied as to whether his frequent visits were a secure omen of bad. Elderly people like Mr. Tan and old Haji were decidedly against it, for such strange visitors often bring some misfortune with them, they argued.It was really startling news to us when we heard that the old man had rented out a room in Madam Hos house. Madame Ho was a widow her only son, Chen, the village carpenter went to town in search of work. The old woman was living alone in a three-roomed house. We were a bit puzzled when we heard that the old man was going to stay among us. mind you, it was not because we had anything against the stranger- it was simply because it meant some change, at least and we were not used to changes.Days rolled by and once again life in our village returned to normal. As eventless days passed by, life continued to feast with that same unruffled placid quietude, but we did not know that it was the calm before the storm we did not realize th at we were sitting on a dormant volcano.The stranger seldom spoke to any of us. A man of few words, he seemed to move in a plane entirely different from ours. We surmise that there was something shady about him. For one thing, he was very secretive. We knew very little about his movements not that we cared about it, but how would you feel about a fellow who lived by your side and of whom you knew next to nothing? He used to go out early in the morning no one knew where to. At sunset, he was back, none knew from where. Like a frightened rabbit, he would look furtively at anyone who was near him and scuttle off from company.A fortnight or so later, two strangers called at Ahmeds shop. They wanted to see a friend of theirs. The description they gave of their friend fitted the old man exactly. Ahmed showed them Madam Hos house and told them their friend was staying there. But its no use going there now he has gone out, Ahmed informed them. This seemed to satisfy the strangers. Well co me tomorrow we know hell wait for us, they said and departed. They were lying they came to see him that night itself.The next morning our village awoke to witness the bloodiest scene we had ever seen. Murder was committed in Madam Hos house. The mysterious old man lay in a pool of blood. A ten inch dagger, plunged into his chest, had skewered him to the floor.Utter panic gripped the full-length village. Fear and consternation could be seen on every face. Ahmed alone had a head cool abounding to act wisely. Having instructed the curious crowd to keep clear away from the dead body, he sent his boy, surface-to-air missile to the Police Station in the nearest town, but before San reached there, the police were already on the scene. They had caught the look of the murder somehow or other. The Inspector in charge of the police surveyed the scene of murder with an experts glance and asked, Didnt he have any personal belongings such as a bag or a box?Yes, he used to carry such a canvas bag, volunteered Ahmed. It is missing, but I didnt expect to find it. There is a reward of $5000 for this rascal. Murder was his business. He is the third of the notorious atomic number 23 Diamonds to meet with his end. Now, the remaining two who have got away, will slit each others throat for that canvas bag. It contained a fortune in diamonds and precious stones.