CHAPTER-4

WHO IS BRIHNNALA?

The tension in the room was palpable as the gunman, much like the rest of us, stood there, visibly shaken, his hand trembling around the gun. Contrary to the unease in the air, Brihnnala showed no hint of fear; it seemed as if he just wanted the gunman to pull the trigger. But why? There is a difference between being brave and madness, and madness only begets more madness. That unprecedented moment filled my brain with many ifs and buts and contemplation.

Amidst this unnerving atmosphere, a sudden, deafening silence fell as everyone awaited the inevitable, and then, breaking through the quiet, a swift strike of bamboo crashed onto the gunman’s back. The room erupted into chaos

A lively 60-year-old enters the scene, effortlessly wielding his lathi with a with a speed straight out of action films or TV showcases, often surpassing what I thought was only possible on screen.

With just one swing, the gunman was down. But the old man didn't stop; he kept using his lathi, not caring who got in the way. His skilled moves showed he knew what he was doing. His expert handling of the lathi revealed his professional training. He swung the lathi so fast that we couldn't even see it; it created a butterfly wing-like effect, forming a protective circle around him. He made sure Brihnnala stayed safe from the troublemakers, keeping him in a protective circle.

With two swift strikes, the gunman crumpled to the ground, blood streaming from his head. A third strike found its mark on another assailant's neck. Meanwhile, the remaining six attackers lunged at the courageous old man. He deftly evaded a punch from one, allowing him to pass, then swiftly struck him from behind. Simultaneously, he pushed back another assailant from the opposite end of his lathi, delivering a powerful swing to the first attacker while ensuring he didn't rise again. The scene unfolded like a choreographed dance.

Now, it was a 4-versus-1 situation, and the old man found himself facing a more formidable challenge. Two of the assailants brandished knives. The young waiter, who had been hiding in the kitchen and unwittingly sparked the whole brawl, attempted to intervene in support of the old man.  In a sudden and bold move, he plunged into the fray, attempting to seize control by grabbing one of the guys by the neck. Tragically, he ended up getting stabbed in the stomach. It became evident that these were no ordinary troublemakers; they likely had a criminal background.

In the chaos, the old man managed to pull the boy away from their clutches, but in the process, he slipped and fell to the ground. Seizing the opportunity, all four attackers moved in at once. Just when things seemed dire, Brihnnala, resurrecting with a surge of adrenaline, unleashed havoc.

He hurled an ashtray and a beer bottle one after another, sending them flying through the air to crash down on one of the assailants. Following up with a punch, Brihnnala executed a remarkable jump, covering almost 3 feet, landing squarely on the man's face. An elbow found its mark on the second guy, and Brihnnala deftly took the third guy under his armpit, rendering him unconscious.

As the fourth guy made a hasty retreat, the situation had taken a dramatic turn. For a tense and intense 10 minutes, we witnessed the unfolding action with our jaws hanging open in shock.

The courageous old man and Brihnnala exchanged meaningful glances, a silent nod passing between them. "Subhash," Brihnnala called out to the brave old man. Extending his hand, Brihnnala helped Subhash to his feet. Subhash, looking sternly at Brihnnala, warned, "Stop trying to kill yourself; it'll get us all killed one day." Brihnnala, lowering his eyes, admitted his fault.

With that, Subhash went to attend to the wounded waiter who had been stabbed in the fight, and Brihnnala followed suit, ready to address the aftermath of the intense confrontation.

Thankfully, the waiter's injuries were not severe. The current patrons hurried over to assist the wounded waiter, while the troublemaker writhed on the ground, crying out in pain.

In a fit of anger, Subhas shouted at the hotel staff, "You cowards! This place is where you earn your bread and butter. We're a family, and this establishment is our second home. Yet, when our family is under attack, you stand here like sheep! Have you no shame? Two old men had to risk their lives to protect you all. Shame on every single one of you!"

The scolding from Subhas left the staff members feeling deeply ashamed as he continued, "You're all young bloods, and it's a disgrace that the responsibility fell on two elderly men. We're a team, and a family stands together in times of crisis. This is not the way to repay the place that sustains us. Pull yourselves together and show some backbone!" Subhas's stern words hung in the air, forcing the staff to reflect on their inaction and the need for unity in the face of adversity.

Brihnnala, sensing Subhas's anger, moved to calm him down. He gently patted Subhas on the back and guided him inside the kitchen, away from the heated confrontation.

The police arrived at the scene, taking statements from eyewitnesses to piece together the sequence of events. Like Sherlock Holmes and his partner Dr. Watson, found ourselves drawn into decoding the mysterious past lives of Brihnnala and the lathi-wielding Subhash.

Me: Ajit, there's something about Brihnnala and Subhash. The way they handled themselves back there, it's not just ordinary bravery.

 Ajit: Agreed. There's a history, a past life hidden beneath the surface. Swift moves like that don't just come out of thin air.

 Me: (leaning in) Military training, perhaps? Their coordination, the way they read each other's moves—it's too precise for amateurs.

 Ajit: (nodding) Military or maybe something more covert. Black ops, perhaps?

 Me: (musing) There's a familiarity in the way they fight together. Brothers in arms, maybe?

 Ajit: (smirking) Or maybe just partners in crime, taking justice into their own hands.

Me: (raising an eyebrow) What if they're on the other side of the law? Vigilantes with a hidden agenda.

 Ajit: (rubbing his chin) That would explain the secrecy, the reluctance to reveal their true selves.

 Me: (flipping through notes) Brihnnala's swift reflexes, Subhash's mastery with the lathi—it's a deadly combination.

 Ajit: (thoughtful) Whatever it is, they've danced this dance before. It's not their first rodeo.

 Me: (smirking) Let's dig deeper, Ajit. The answers to their past may be the key to understanding their present.  Meanwhile our turn came and we gave our statement to police

  Brihnnala stood outside the restaurant, casually puffing on a cigarette. Sensing an opportunity, Ajit and I approached him to start a conversation. Recognizing him as our hero, we wanted to express our sincere gratitude for his courageous actions.

Me: Sir, you did great in there.

Ajit: Absolutely, sir. Full respect for your bravery. You and Subhas Sir are real-life heroes.

However, Brihnnala seemed distant, his gaze fixated on the abyss to his left, a long, dark pathway. As if he could see something that we couldn't. Ignoring our words, he threw his cigarette away and walked towards that ominous alley alone.

TO BE CONTINUED