A Criminal's Cinderella

Chapter#02

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The fresh air embraced his rough skin from all sides, as though it was welcoming his existence. The usual sun rays fell down to his feet, as if spreading a carpet of light for him, to walk over it. The rushy roads, honking vehicles, cheering for him to bring back the smirk on his face. As he finally inhaled the breathe of freedom after the whole seventeen months.

Seventeen months of isolation from the outer world, in a dark cornered cell, he was imprisoned for his crime; on his try to murder someone and injuring the other harshly. This was the first time he has spent such a long time locked in the prison. And the life there was obviously miserable to him.

But, he couldn't consider this experience any less to a student going through his graduation days. Like at the end of graduation, a student is rewarded with a degree, he, here, spending his seventeen months in prison were like giving his exams and the result he would gain, would be a direct ticket into the politics.

Killing. Blackmailing. Gambling. He excelled in the every subject. With his tiny gang of twenty, and being the leader of them, he only wished to gain some better recognition. To transform his gang from the road side criminal gang to a national mob gang. And to achieve his dream, the best path was to collaborate with the political parties.

Merging with politics would multiply the power of their gang into many more times. The fear of their gang would rise in the civilians. Even the land businesses and the municipal matters would fall in their hands. Simply they could make the government to run on their tips, by the threats or with the power of money. And today, he was out, to finally take a step ahead towards his dreams.

"Where your hair man?!" The loud astounded question from his gang member or rather his only friend Nisar, allowed a annoyed groan to leave out of his throat.

Since he had been locked into the cell, Nisar being the chief, was the only one to own up all responsibilities, and spread the awareness of their gang, from city to city. His task was to grab the secrets of other gangs and force them to merge with their gang.

And while being on his mission, Nisar had frequently spoken to his leader and friend, but his friend did never let him know about his long tresses being forcibly grazed by the senior hawaldar.

The first three months, during his stay in the prison, he had somehow by his deadly glares and some harsh words, shoo-ed the barber away, who was sent by the jailers to cut the inmates hair. But when the fourth month arrived, though he was hell bent on saving his hair couldn't succeed. The senior Hawaldar being as cruel as he was, personally used the scissors on his head and made his long shoulder sized locks to go vanish.

And that was the first time when he had ever let anybody touch his hair without his will. It wasn't like he was weak then, or couldn't hold this Hawaldar by his neck and repeatedly slam his body on the dark walls of the cell. But he had to be quiet. He just had to swallow hard his pride, and give up, just for the ticket. The reason why he did end up there at the first place.

As he replayed that incident, in his mind, he glared at his friend with his blood-red eyes, as if daring Nisar to speak even a word more on it. Immediately understanding the reaction, Nisar gave way to the other members of their gang to move forward and adorn their boss with the garlands, that they had brought along for the reception.

Soon his people began to beat drums, play the fireworks. Some had even started shaking their bodies to the drum beats, in the most rowdy steps. The open arms and waists swinging in opposite movements synced, as one by one they ascended towards their boss holding garlands of roses.

The view before him swelled his heart more with pride, gave him the reason to broaden his chest more. Subconsciously, his fingers proceeded to perform his favourite and signature step; of running his fingers through his lengthy locks, but met with a nearly naked skin of his temple. He groaned again, realizing the actuality of his hair.