As most of you know, I am not a huge fan of Sultan. So today, as a way to distract myself from writing my dissertation I said to myself "Self, why don't you like Sultan? Have you tried seeing things from his perspective?"
Needless the say, the exercise did not work in its entirety (I still don't like the guy very much) but it did end up giving me a fic idea, which I present before you now. It's inspired partly by the Hades and Persephone myth, and partly by the idea of a guy who is gruff on the outside but soft and mushy on the inside.
Sultan fans: Please do take a read. This fanfic does not bash anybody. I hope I've done justice to this man you all like so much. Do comment and criticize!
Prologue: Miss. Madhubala Malik
My name is Sultan- strange name for a Private Detective, stranger name for a cop. Yeah, that's what I used to be.
But after my wife died, I just became a guy making a living on other's people's misery…trying to keep my son safe in this miserable world.
And things were going well-my business had picked up, I'd hired a partner, I was taking safe jobs…until Trishna Malik walked through my door.
And showed me the picture of Madhubala Malik.
After that? Well, things changed…and changed fast.
And all I could do? Was keep up.
Prologue: The case
It had been an ordinary day thus far. Sultan had assembled two reports for his clients-unfortunately both spouses had been cheating, and was now thinking of where to go for lunch. He'd promised Aryan that he would be home early today so they would go watch the latest Disney movie, and to do that he needed to get his work done. Which meant a quick lunch and then back to the desk.
His ruminations about the merits of each takeout place were interrupted with his secretary's buzz.
"Sir, a Trishna Malik is here to see you. She says its urgent."
Sultan looked through his appointment book. "I don't have her here." He answered, confused.
His secretary's sigh, Malika was her name, held exasperation, something he could hear over the intercom. "I know you don't have her, but she looks five seconds away from hyperventilating and is insisting that it's urgent. Unless you want to come out and physically drag her out of the office, I suggest you listen to what she has to say."
"Fine. Please go to Patak's Palace for and pick up my lunch though, as I won't be able to."
"Fine. I expect extra pay at the end of the week."
Sultan's reply was cut off as the door opened and Trishna Malik stepped in. She was in a dress, with minimal makeup. Her face was drawn and she had an air of desperation around her. Sultan could see why Malika let her come in. Rarely did they have clients who looked so pitiful.
"Please sit. How can I help you, Miss Malik?" He asked
Trishna gingerly sat down, looking at him as if she could not believe that she had taken this step. Taking a deep breath, she extracted a photo from her purse, holding it out to him.
Sultan gazed at her, confused, before looking at the photo. It held the visage of a stunning young woman, in her early twenties he would say, smiling at the camera. There was something mischievous about her smile, as if inviting you to share the joke with her.
"This is-?"
"My sister. Madhubala Shamsher Malik. She's been missing for the past one year."
"I see. And what do you want me to do Miss. Malik? Find her? Cases like hers…"
"I know!" Trishna snapped, them immediately took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I know what you are going to say but Madhu isn't dead! We went to the police but they didn't believe us- please, Mr. Sultan- you're our only hope!"
Sultan was going to refuse the case- he had no time for dead ends. But something about the picture intrigued him. Something about the girl called to him. And Sultan always went with his gut instincts.
"Tell me about the case." He said.
Trishna Malik took a breath. "Madhu went missing a year ago." She started shakily. "She had just finished graduation and was going to move back home…our family has a small business in Mumbai…we do well but we're not rich or anything. Anyway, we had just talked to her the day before and she had been fine. Madhu had mentioned something about almost getting into an accident, but had assured us that she was okay. And then…no calls, no nothing. Madhu always called us every two days- that was the system. We went to her apartment- she lived only a few hours from home, but there was no one there. We talked to the landlord, the neighbors. No one had seen anything. She just…vanished and no one was willing to talk about it."
"You went to the police?"
"A dead end." Trishna Malik replied. "They said she had probably run away with a boyfriend and we should just wait for her to come back. A boyfriend." Her laughter held a wealth of bitterness at the police. "Madhu had never kissed anybody let alone been in a relationship. And they cast aspersions on her character."
"Please continue." Sultan kept jotting notes on the pertinent facts of the case into the log.
"They seemed…almost unwilling to take the case actually." Trishna said thoughtfully. "Like they were scared or something. Anyway, we kept looking for her, but gave up after a year. My family did. I always had feelers out. She's my sister- I knew she wasn't dead. And two days ago, one of the street urchins I talk to told me that they had seen someone like that-matching her description. But he wouldn't tell me more, no matter how much money I offered him. He was terrified. And today, when I went to see him again, he wasn't there. And everyone told me that the boy I was looking for didn't exist!"
Sultan looked up. "Didn't exist, huh? So people are scared and don't want to be involved."
Trishna leaned across the desk. "I don't know what's happening, but I know my sister is alive, and I know that you can find her. Please, bring her back to us, Sultan." She grasped his hands. "Please."
Sultan looked again at the photo.
And nodded.
"I'll take the case."
on new story 😃 
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