The masked honor.
“ Papa, they are asking you to come now .” Rahul with a fading tone said looking at his father. Bunch of media journalists had set up their cameras in the hall for an interview of Divakar Thakur. Divakar raised his forehead, looked scarcely to his son Rahul standing at the door and hummed “ Hmmm ..” His lower eyelids were being swollen after days of being drenched. Eyes were still shedding tears like a never-ending cataract and those teardrops were dripping off from his upper lips channelling through fading huge dark circles. He then grabbed the white towel left to him on the bed. Wiped those tears out and took a long breath. Placing the towel back on its place he pushed the bed lazily to stand. “Come with me.” Divakar whispered to Rahul with a deep tone. Five journalists were sitting in the hall with two cameras and five mics pointing towards a single wooden chair. “ Sir, please come and sit here. ” Pointing towards the wooden chair one of the journalists said to Div...