High in Life

The inspector instantly knew what has happened in the room, just as he broke open the door. In that dark room, a man was sitting on a chair behind a table. A beam of light was entering the room along with the inspector from a lightbulb in the hallway. He slowly walked towards the man who had confessed of a murder to the inspector on the phone, just an hour ago. The inspector moved forward with one hand on his holstered gun, but he knew that the man in chair was already dead. He was alone in the room. 


He gently touched the mans' wrist, no pulse. He turned around to check the room rather the office. Nothing out of the ordinary except for a gun in the left hand of the dead man and some scattered papers on the table. The paper on top read, 'I KILLED ADITYA KASHYAP AND MYSELF'. The Inspector was shocked. Aditya Kashyap was a big philanthropist who was recently murdered in his office. 'But why', thought the inspector. He was part of the Aditya Kashyap murder investigation and never heard of this mans' name as a suspect or even a connection. So why did he murder him. The answer was in the papers. He started reading the papers.


'I killed him because he had reached the highest point in his life. There was no other way to go but down. He climbed to this point through his education from elite institutes, notable work for various global companies, becoming the youngest CEO of a global conglomerate, winning many prestigious awards, starting a billion dollar trust. He was high on life. He was my god.


I was obsessed with the story of Aditya Kashyap since my college days. At that time he had just been promoted as the CEO of Indian's biggest conglomerate. For one complete month of my last year for graduation, I just read and learned about Aditya Kashyap and his life. Where he was born, who are his parents, what do they do, where did he go to school, what is his favourite food , what movies does he watch, everything. At the end of the month I knew every detail about him. He became like a brother to me as if I have lived with him for many years. I wrote him letters. I tried calling him many times but obviously he was too busy doing what he did best, climb higher. 


It was my 25th birthday and Aditya Kashyap had won the businesman of the year award, that too at just 37 years of age. I was so proud as if my own brother had won the award. I called his office to congratulate but obviously he was busy. I adored him. He became my god. I was thinking of him every second of the day. Every decision I had to make I would think what Aditya Kashyap would do. I did not marry just to stay away from the distraction. I made my life's goal to follow him to the top. But what after that. What comes after the top? The fall. This thought kept me awake and thinking for nights and days. I was not going to see him fall, he was my god, he cannot fall. 


Last month he founded the billion dollar trust to help people get on their feet and improve their lives. I had tears in my eyes. The journey we took from the early days of my college to this day was overwhelming. I wanted to hug him, cry on his shoulders and tell him how much I was proud of him. But he was obviously a busy person. Next day the newspaper said there was an allegation on him for syphoning the trust money to personal accounts. I could see, this was the fall. I could not bear it. I could imagine people blaming him, cursing him and hating him. I needed to protect him. My head was spinning. I was having a bad headache. I don't know how, I found myself in Aditya Kashyap's office. He was standing behind a glass door. I entered, choked him to death and left. 


The next day there were two news, one that Aditya Kashyap has been killed and other that the allegations were false. A tear rolled out of my eye. My god was still a god. He was only dead. This was my high of life, saving my god. He could not have gone higher and nor could I. This was the top for me. So, I am killing myself too. Meet you soon Aditya Kashyap. Goodbye.'


The inspector looked up. He was shocked by the obsession of the man sitting in front of him.


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