Madness just needs a little push !

The mission was on. Omar was a part of it. He has been training for this over three years now. He has been grieving for 6 years. The seven man team landed in Omar's home town at 6 A.M. Omar thought about the news that will make headlines in the newspapers and TVs on December 7. He smirked at the thought of seeing his photo in the papers 24 hrs later. But, he had a mission to complete before. The mission was simple. To kill as many people as possible.

The year was 1992. Omar was 12 and his little sister Ayesha was 9. One day they were playing with their neighbour Mahesh. Ayesha reported to him about his father Ram running towards them. Ram severely warned Mahesh and dragged him back to their house, the end of Mahesh in their little life. Omar and Ayehsa explained what had happened to their father Salim. Salim explained to them about Babri Masjid. He explained them how Muslims and Hindus in India were destined to fight each other forever. Salim, is not a hard-core radical Muslim, but a proper Muslim praying five times a day and fasting the month of Ramadan. His wife, Jamshed died of cancer a year ago. So he had full responsibility over his kids. He wanted them to become a proper Muslim like him.

Each of the seven men settled into different hotels. Omar had explained the plan to them a couple of days ago in a small town in the Indus valley, their head quarters. The head count of the entire organisation was placed around 250 by the police. Omar ranked somewhere in the middle. 249 among them wanted Caliphate. Omar wanted something else. He spread a map of Delhi on the table. He explained to each of them their way to Delhi, their directions to their respective hotels from the bus terminus, bus numbers each have to take, their operation site and the escape routes. No one will travel back in the same route through which he reached Delhi. He briefed them the eleventh commandment and the meeting was over. Omar then tuned into a local news channel in which a news reader was a presenting a special edition of peaceful Delhi. Omar imagined what the news reader would be reading tomorrow. He laughed away the thought.

Muslims were mourning the four years of destruction of Babri Masjid all over the country. And Omar was getting frustrated. One by one, all his Hindu friends have ditched him. His Muslim friends turned radical, so he could not hook onto them as well. He started feeling lonely. The same thing was happening to Salim and Ayesha. On the new year eve, no one in the neighbourhood visited them, nor did they took sweets from them. Omar's frustration grew.

He started cleaning the guns. He has an AK-47, a couple of berettas, and a dozen hand grenades. He had 600 rounds of live ammunition. While he was greasing the barrels, he thought to himself how easy it was getting to travel in India with a gun. All you need is half a dozen hundred rupee notes. All 7 men had reached Delhi, without losing a single ammunition. Omar quickly ran through his plan in his mind. Hanif will pull the trigger first at 6.30 P.M at the south gate. Three minutes later Basha takes over in the northern end . Muhamed and Naushad will join at 6.38 P.M from the eastern end . Four minutes later, Sameer's bazooka will penetrate the mob from western corner. Sharp at 6.45 P.M. Ahmed will launch his grenades into the mob. If everything goes well according to plan, at 6.50, the entire mob in the market will be inside the mall. Omar will be waiting for them inside. He will finish the job and seven will leave at seven. They will high jack a vehicle and leave it abandoned outside the city. Omar will travel to Agra, from there he will reach the Indus valley through Lucknow. The clock struck 4.

All seven men were in their positions an hour earlier. Omar walked into the mall. He had his head phones on. He believed, it made him look casual. He grabbed a chocolate bar and sat on a bench. Form the moment Omar grabbed the chocolate, Arjun fixed his eyes on him, rather his chocolate. Omar waved to Arjun and offered him the chocolate. Arjun took it gleefully and offered a huge smile in turn. But, before Omar could ask his name, Arjun was gone. It was 6.30 P.M.

Omar remembered the day. It was 2003, a full six years back. A Hindu saint was allegedly murdered by a Muslim mob. The Hindus got agitated. They swore to destroy the Muslim community. Omar, Ayesha and Salim stuck to their house. That wasn't enought. A mob broke in and ransacked the house. They did not want to hurt Salim, so they killed him by a single blow. Omar and Ayesha were not that lucky. They gang-raped Ayesha several times and left Omar in Coma. The last thing Omar remembered was the smell of Salim's blood and the broken voice of Ayesha's cry. Omar turned conscious two and a half years later to hear the story of his sister's death that very fatal day. Frustration and anger took over him. Vengeance and revenge he thought and the time is now. He could hear the sound of flying bullets and came back to 2009. the clock struck 6.45 and the mob came running. Omar fired in all directions into the running mob. He had a reason. It was 6.56 when he emptied his 600 rounds. Arjun's mother was down. Arjun hid himself behind her body. Omar looked at him, smiled dryly and left.

Nothing in the mall but Arjun moved. He did not cry. he did not know he had to. He took the gun that Omar dropped while escaping. Now, he had his reason.