🌙 Chaand, Khoon Aur Duaayein 🌙
The sky above Mumbai shimmered with a soft silver glow as the crescent moon—chaand—finally revealed itself.
“Chaand nazar aa gaya!” voices echoed across rooftops, balconies, and narrow lanes, carrying laughter, relief, and joy.
It was Eid-ul-Fitr.
Masjids lit up. Homes sparkled. Hearts softened.
But somewhere in the city… beneath the laughter, beneath the sweetness of sheer khurma—
Darkness quietly took a breath.
A phone rang in the silent ETF office.
Shrill. Persistent. Unforgiving.
ACP Arjun Suryakant Rawte stood by the window, his sharp gaze locked onto the crescent moon.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
“Rawte…”
Sameer’s firm voice cut through the silence.
Sameer Damsingh Rathod.
His presence—steady, composed, commanding.
Arjun didn’t turn.
“Festival hai… aur call aaya hai,” Arjun muttered.
Rathod exhaled slowly. “Matlab serious hoga.”
Pause.
Arjun finally turned, eyes dark.
“Sirf serious nahi… galat waqt pe hua hai.”
Rathod’s jaw tightened.
“Crime ko waqt ka intezaar nahi hota, Rawte.”
A beat.
Both men exchanged a look.
They didn’t need words.
Case shuru ho chuka tha.
***
Morning sunlight slipped gently into Riya’s apartment, dancing across soft curtains.
The faint echo of takbeers filled the air.
Riya stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her emerald green anarkali. Her earrings swayed softly, bangles chiming like tiny bells.
She smiled at herself.
“Eid Mubarak, Riya…”
A rare softness in her voice.
Her phone buzzed.
Arjun calling.
She smirked instantly. “Subah-subah ACP Rawte? Aaj toh miracle hai…”
She answered.
“Hello?”
“Office aa sakti ho?” Arjun’s tone—flat, controlled.
Riya frowned. “Aaj? Sir… aaj Eid hai.”
“I know.”
Silence.
“Case hai.”
Her smile faded.
She closed her eyes briefly.
“Kitni der mein?”
“Jitni jaldi ho sake.”
Riya grabbed her dupatta.
“Fifteen minutes.”
Before disconnecting, she whispered softly—
“Eid Mubarak… Arjun sir.”
There was a pause.
Then, almost inaudibly—
“…Eid Mubarak.”
***
ETF Office buzzed with unusual energy.
Chotu sat with a bowl of seviyan.
“Arey Shree bhai… aaj ka din toh bas khane ka hota hai… kaam ka nahi!”
Shree adjusted his specs. “Tumhara kaam hi khana hai, Chotu…”
Door slammed open.
Riya entered.
“Happy Eid—”
“Dead body mili hai,” Arjun cut in.
Everything froze.
Chotu slowly lowered his spoon.
“…Happy Eid cancel,” he whispered.
Rathod stepped forward, authoritative.
“Focus, team.”
Riya crossed her arms. “Details?”
Arjun pointed to the board.
“Female. Approx 25. Mahim dockyard. No struggle marks.”
Shree added, “Aur haath pe fresh mehendi.”
Riya’s brows knitted.
“Matlab… she was celebrating.”
Rathod’s voice came, low and firm—
“Ya usse lag raha tha ki woh safe hai.”
Silence.
Because that assumption—
Sabse dangerous hota hai.
***
Waves crashed gently against the dock.
The scent of salt mixed oddly with festive aromas drifting from nearby homes.
Riya walked carefully, heels crunching gravel.
The girl lay still.
Almost… peaceful.
Riya crouched.
“Mehendi fresh hai…” she whispered. “Design bhi detailed hai… kisi khaas occasion ke liye.”
Arjun stood behind her.
“Face pe dar nahi hai.”
Rathod folded his arms.
“Matlab killer trusted tha.”
Chotu muttered, “Ya phir… usne last moment pe react hi nahi kiya…”
Riya looked up slowly.
“Trust ka galat use hua hai…”
Arjun’s jaw tightened.
Because they all knew—
Betrayal kills deeper than weapons.
***
The chawl was alive.
Children ran around in crisp kurtas and frocks.
“Eidi do! Eidi do!”
Laughter echoed.
Women exchanged sweets.
Men hugged warmly.
“Eid Mubarak!”
“Eid Mubarak!”
And in the middle of all that life—
They searched for death.
A woman approached hesitantly.
“Aap police ho?”
Riya nodded gently. “Haan. Aap usse jaanti thi?”
The woman’s eyes filled.
“Woh… Sana thi…”
Rathod’s gaze sharpened.
“Family?”
“Bas ek bhai… Imran.”
Arjun and Rathod exchanged a silent look.
***
Imran sat on the floor, shattered.
Eyes swollen. Hands trembling.
Riya sat beside him softly.
“Imran… humein batao kya hua…”
He swallowed.
“Kal… Eid ki tayyari kar rahi thi…”
His voice cracked.
“Maine kaha tha… jaldi ghar aana…”
Rathod stepped in, firm but controlled.
“Kahan gayi thi woh?”
Imran hesitated.
“Ek dost se milne…”
Arjun’s tone sharpened.
“Kaunsa dost?”
Imran whispered—
“…Uska fiancé.”
***
Back at ETF.
Shree typed rapidly.
“Naam—Faizan Khan. Businessman. Clean record.”
Chotu frowned. “Zyada hi clean…”
Rathod nodded.
“Background deeper check karo.”
Riya leaned forward.
“Mujhe milna hai isse.”
Arjun looked at her.
“Main bhi aa raha hoon.”
Rathod added—
“Main lead loonga. Tum dono observe karna.”
Authority clear.
No arguments.
***
Faizan’s house glowed with Eid lights.
Guests. Laughter. Perfume. Perfection.
Too perfect.
Faizan greeted them.
“ACP Rathod! ACP Rawte! Eid Mubarak!”
Rathod’s expression remained unreadable.
“Aapki fiancé mar chuki hai.”
Silence.
The smile died instantly.
“What…?”
Riya observed every flicker.
“Kal raat mile the?”
Faizan shook his head quickly.
“Nahi.”
Too quick.
Rathod stepped closer.
“Sach boliye, Mr. Khan.”
Faizan’s confidence cracked.
Sweat beaded.
Fear surfaced.
***
Interrogation room.
Ticking clock.
Heavy silence.
Faizan broke.
“Main… mila tha usse…”
Riya leaned forward.
“Phir?”
“Woh shaadi todna chahti thi…”
Arjun’s voice—cold.
“Kyoon?”
Faizan’s voice trembled.
“Usse pata chal gaya… main already married hoon…”
Silence hit like thunder.
Rathod slammed the table lightly.
“Tumne usse maara?”
“NAHI!”
Faizan shook violently.
“Main bas mana raha tha…”
Arjun roared—
“PHIR KAUN?!”
Faizan whispered—
“…Meri wife.”
***
Nazia.
Elegant. Composed.
Dangerous calm.
She didn’t resist.
“Woh meri zindagi barbaad kar rahi thi…”
Riya’s eyes burned.
“Toh tumne uski jaan le li?”
Nazia smiled faintly.
“Eid pe sab naya hota hai na…”
Rathod stepped forward, voice firm—
“Khoon se kabhi nayi shuruaat nahi hoti.”
Nazia looked straight at him.
“Lekin kuch logon ke liye… badla hi nayi shuruaat hota hai.”
Silence.
Arjun’s fists clenched.
Riya looked away.
Because somewhere—
It hurt.
***
Case closed.
But hearts heavy.
ETF gathered at Riya’s home.
Soft lights. Warm food. Fragile smiles.
Chotu grinned.
“Ab toh bolo—Eid Mubarak!”
Shree nodded.
“Finally…”
Rathod allowed a small smile.
“Team ne achha kaam kiya.”
Arjun stood aside.
Riya walked up to him.
“Aaj ka din kya sikhata hai?”
Arjun looked at her.
“Forgiveness.”
Pause.
“Lekin har koi deserve nahi karta,” he added.
Riya smiled faintly.
“Phir bhi… try karna chahiye.”
Silence lingered.
Then—
Arjun whispered—
“Eid Mubarak, Riya.”
Her breath hitched.
“Eid Mubarak, Arjun Sir…”
Rathod watched them quietly.
A subtle knowing smile.
***
Mumbai slept under the moon.
Peaceful.
Deceptive.
Riya stood on her balcony.
Phone in hand.
Message blinked.
Arjun: “Take care.”
She smiled.
Typed—
“You too.”
Paused.
Then—
“Next Eid pe case nahi chahiye.”
Reply came.
“Koshish karunga.”
She laughed softly.
Because she knew—
Woh kabhi promise nahi karega.
Par hamesha try karega.
***
Next day.
ETF office.
“Sab line mein lag jao!” Chotu shouted.
Shree blinked. “Kyun?”
“Eidi lene ke liye!”
Riya laughed. “Tum de rahe ho?”
“Emotional wali!”
Rathod entered.
“Yeh kya ho raha hai?”
Chotu saluted. “Sir! Eid celebration!”
Rathod raised a brow… then unexpectedly—
He handed Chotu an envelope.
“Eidi.”
Everyone froze.
“Sir?!”
Chotu’s eyes shone.
Then—
Arjun quietly placed another envelope in his hand.
“Backup Eidi.”
Chotu almost cried.
“Double Eidi?! Main toh rich ho gaya!”
Riya burst out laughing.
Shree shook his head.
Rathod smiled faintly.
Arjun smirked.
And for a moment—
No crime.
No pain.
Just—
Family.
***
Kabhi kabhi… Eid sirf khushiyon ka naam nahi hota.
Kabhi kabhi… woh andhere ke beech roshni dhoondhne ka hausla deta hai. 🌙
Anupamaa
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