He sat at the far end of the long conference table inside the Delhi Police headquarters and wondered for the fifth time in the last hour whether this meeting was ever going to end today or not.

The commissioner was going over the security arrangements for the upcoming political rally again and again and every officer present there was praying to end that boring meeting.

Karan had been sitting in the same chair for the past hour and his back had started to ache somewhere around the forty minute mark.

The rally was scheduled for the coming Sunday and more than fifty thousand people were expected to show up.

That meant traffic diversions, barricades, metal detectors, plain clothes officers in the crowd, snipers on the rooftops, and about a thousand other arrangements that had to be perfect because one small mistake could lead to a disaster.

Karan had already submitted his plan for the four police stations that came under his jurisdiction but the commissioner wanted to go through every page again.

Honestly this man is so irritating if he was not my senior, god knows better what I have done to him. Karan thought internally while externally showing concentration on commisioner 's every word.

"Karan," the commissioner said while looking directly at him, "your sector covers the main stage area. That is the most vulnerable spot. Are you absolutely certain about your deployment?"

Karan sat up straighter in his chair , coming out of his thoughts and met the commissioner's eyes without any hesitation.

"Sir, I have placed my best officers near the stage. Each one of them has been briefed personally. The VIP movement will be coordinated with the SPG and no unauthorised person will get within fifty metres of the dais. I will be on the ground myself from six in the morning until the rally ends."

The commissioner nodded slowly because Karan had a reputation for being near to perfectionist.

He was not the kind of officer who sat in his cabin while his team did all the work. He was the kind who stood in the field for hours with his men and went home only when the last vehicle had left the venue.

That was why he had risen through the ranks so quickly despite coming from a small village in Maharashtra with no political connections or family influence.

The meeting dragged on for another twenty minutes before the commissioner finally stood up and declared that rest of the plan he will discuss next day.

The other officers gathered their files and folders and walked out of the room in small groups, talking among themselves in low voices about rest of the plan Tommorow.

Karan stayed back for a moment to collect his thoughts before he walked out into the corridor and headed towards his cabin.

The police headquarters was a busy place even at this hour of the evening.

Constables and inspectors and clerks walked past him with files in their hands and nodded at him in respect.

Karan nodded at the ones he knew and ignored the ones he did not because that was how things worked in this building. You could not stop and talk to every person who crossed your path or you would never get any work done.

His cabin was on the third floor at the end of a long corridor.

The nameplate on the door said ACP Karan Dixit in bold letters and underneath that in smaller print it said Zone Two.

He pushed the door open and walked inside with a heavy sigh because his body was tired even if his mind was still alert. 

There were no photographs on his desk and no awards on his walls. Karan believed in letting his work speak for itself and keeping his personal life completely private so his office had nothing except table, chair , almirah and files.

He sat down on his chair and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. Being an ACP in Delhi was not an easy job no matter what people thought when they saw the uniform and the title.

He had to handle on field work and office work both. There were six police stations under his zone and each of them sent their reports to him at the end of every day.

That meant he had to go through hundreds of pages of case files, sign off on arrests, approve leaves, review pending investigations, and deal with the constant stream of phone calls from senior officers and politicians and sometimes even journalists who wanted information that he was not authorised to give.

He reached for the first file on his desk and opened it. It was a dacoity case from the previous night in which three armed men had entered a jewellery store and walked away with gold and diamonds worth crores. The local police had made two arrests already but the third man was still on the run. Karan read through the file carefully and made a few notes in the margin before setting it aside for further review tomorrow morning.

The second file was about a hit and run accident that had killed a young woman near the ITO intersection. The driver had been identified and arrested but the victim's family was demanding that additional charges be added.

He was about to open the third file when he remembered about his niece Diya and his nephew Dev.

He sat Straight in his chair because he had completely forgotten to call Dhruv Mehra today. The custody case was still ongoing and he needed an update.

Dhruv Mehra was not just any lawyer. He was the most feared criminal lawyer in Delhi and probably in the entire northern circuit.

Karan had met him very early in his career when he was still a fresh faced officer and Dhruv had been defending a high profile client.

Karan had been impressed by Dhruv's intelligence and his sharp understanding of the law. And Dhruv had been impressed by Karan's honesty and his refusal to cut corners even when it would have made his job easier.

They had become closer than friends over the years. They trusted each other in a way that Karan did not trust anyone else.

He picked up his phone and scrolled to Dhruv's number. It was past nine in the evening but Dhruv was the kind of lawyer who worked late into the night and answered calls at all hours and especially to his calls.

The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered.

"I was wondering when you would call," Dhruv said on the other end. "I have been sitting with your file for the past hour."

Karan leaned back in his creaky chair and allowed himself a small smile. "I was stuck in a meeting with the commissioner. Security arrangements for that rally. You know how these things go. By the way any update about custody."

Dhruv paused for a moment and Karan could hear the sound of papers shuffling in the background. "The hearing was adjourned again. The other side is asking for more time to file their response. But here is the important part. The judge made a comment today that I found very interesting."

"What did the judge say?" Karan asked with his heart beating a little faster.

"She said that the children's welfare is the only thing that matters and that she will not hand them over to anyone unless there is clear evidence that living with you is harmful for them. Karan, this is a good sign. We are winning this. Slowly but surely, we are winning."

Karan closed his eyes for a moment and felt the tension in his shoulders loosen just a little bit.

His sister had died while giving birth to Diya. The delivery had been complicated and the doctors had tried everything but in the end they could not save her.

Karan still remembered that phone call. He had been in the middle of a raid when his phone rang and his mother's voice on the other end had sounded like someone had ripped her heart out.

And then six months later, Diya's father had died in a tragic car accident on his way back from work. A drunk driver had hit him from the opposite side and he had died before the ambulance could even reach the hospital.

That left Dev and Diya with no parents. Karan's mother had brought them to Delhi and Karan had taken full responsibility for them.

He was their uncle but he had become their father in every way that mattered. He bathed them and fed them and put them to sleep. He attended their parent teacher meetings and wiped their tears when they fell down. He loved them like his own children because that was what his sister would have wanted.

But now his dead sister's in laws were asking for custody of the children.

They had never shown much interest in Dev and Diya in past five years, they had never visited or called or anything.

But recently from past three or four months they started to ask for custody of children.

"Thank you, Dhruv," Karan said quietly rubbing his forehead. "I do not know what I would do without you on this case."

"You would find another lawyer and you would still win because you are on right path, they are just greedy people," Dhruv said with a chuckle. "But I am glad you chose me. Now it's late my wife must be waiting for me, you should go home too."

Karan looked at the clock on his wall and realised that Dhruv was right. It was already ten fifteen and he still had three files left to review. But the files would still be here tomorrow and his mother would not stop worrying until she saw his face. He decided to call it a night.

He gathered the files and locked them in his cupboard because they contained sensitive information that could not be left out in the open.

Then he picked up his phone and his wallet and walked out of the cabin after switching off the light.

The corridor was quieter now because most of the officers had gone home for the day. The night shift staff had taken over.

Karan walked down the stairs instead of taking the lift because he needed to stretch his legs.

The parking lot was half empty at this hour and his car was parked near the gate.

It was a simple sedan, nothing flashy, the kind of car that the government provided to officers of his rank. He unlocked the door and sat inside for a moment before starting the engine.

He drove towards his assigned government quarters which were about twenty minutes away from the police headquarters.

The roads of Delhi were still busy because this city never really slept but not like Bombay.

Karan kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel and let his mind wander.

He thought about his village in Maharashtra.

The dream of living in Bombay, to experience that city although he got posted in Delhi finally.

His father who was a constable in his village police station in Maharashtra and always used to talk about beauty of Bombay.

His father was the most honest man Karan had ever known. He never took a single bribe even when their family had barely anything fancy to eat and that was the one of reason he never got any promotion and his dream of experiencing Bombay remained a dream.

But he never regretted his life in village. He believed in the law and honest with his whole heart and he raised Karan to believe in it too.

Karan always wanted to become like his father. He wanted to be the kind of man who could look at himself in the mirror every morning and feel proud of what he saw.

They never had sufficient resources. There was no money for coaching classes or expensive books.

But Karan still studied hard , harder than everyone else and he cleared the UPSC examination in his very first attempt at the age of just twenty one.

His father had cried and danced that day. Karan remembered seeing tears streaming down his father's face and the pride in his eyes for his son.

He remembered thinking that this was the happiest moment of his life, he thought he will get posted in Bombay and his family will shift there and his father can fulfill his dream to act in cinema after retirement.

But life had a cruel way of taking things away. When Karan returned from his training, his father was already so ill that he could barely recognise his own son.

The cancer had spread too far and the doctors said nothing could be done. His father died within days of Karan's return.

Karan was heartbroken but he did not let that break him because he knew that in absence of his father, now he was only responsible for his family.

He couldn't afford to be a carefree young man living and dreaming his life, he had responsibilities.

After that, Karan got posted in different cities. Two postings and two transfers before he finally landed in Delhi as an ACP.

By then his mother had started living with him and his younger sister Mahi had taken admission in university of Delhi.

And then Dev and Diya had come into his life and everything had changed. His family was not perfect but it was his and he would protect it with everything he had.

He reached his government quarters at exactly eleven thirty. It was not that big bunglow like, which got allotted to politicians and MLAs but it was sure big enough for them.

He parked his car in his designated spot and walked towards his ground floor flat.

He could see the light on in the living room which meant his mother was still awake waiting for him. The thought made him smile because his mother had been doing this ever since he was a little boy. No matter how late he came home, she was always there with the lights on and food on the table.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The familiar smell of his home wrapped around him like a warm blanket. His mother came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her saree and her face lit up when she saw him.

"Finally you are here," she said in Marathi because that was the language they spoke at home. "I was about to call you. Go wash your hands. I will serve the food."

Karan kissed her forehead the way he did every night and said, "You did not have to wait for me, Aai. I told you to eat without me."

His mother waved her hand like she always did when he said this. "How can I eat without knowing that my son has eaten? Now go. The rotis will get cold."

Karan went to the bathroom and washed his hands and face. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment and saw the tiredness in his own eyes.

But tiredness was a small price to pay for the life he was living. He walked back to the dining table where his mother had already laid out the food. There were hot rotis and dal and a vegetable dish and a small bowl of pickle on the side. Simple food. Home made. The kind of food that no restaurant in Delhi could ever replicate.

He sat down and started eating while his mother sat across from him and watched. This was their nightly ritual. She did not eat with him most nights because she preferred to eat earlier. But she always sat with him while he ate and they talked about the day.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Long and tired" Karan said between bites. "We have a big rally on Sunday. A lot of preparation to do."

His mother nodded because she understood the nature of his job even if she did not always like it. Then she gave him a look that he knew very well. It was the look that meant she was about to bring up a topic that he tried to avoid.

"Karan," she said carefully, "you are thirty years old now. When are you going to think about getting married?"

Karan almost choked on his roti. He took a sip of water and looked at his mother with a mixture of affection and exasperation.

"Aai, we have discussed this. I do not have time for marriage right now. There is the rally, and the custody case, and Dev's school admission, and Diya's health checkup. How can I think about marriage with all of this going on?"

His mother's expression softened but she did not back down. "There is never a perfect time for marriage, son. You keep finding reasons to delay. But I am not getting any younger. I want to see you settled before I..."

"Stop," Karan said firmly because he could not bear to hear her finish that sentence.

"Do not say things like that. You are going to be here for a long time. And when the right time comes, I will get married. Just give me some time."

His mother sighed but she let the matter drop. She knew her son well enough to know when he had made up his mind.

They talked about other things after that. About Mahi who was sleeping in her room. About the neighbours who had invited them for dinner next week. About the vegetable prices that had gone up again.

Normal conversations between a mother and a son and despite being tired he listened every word from his mother's mouth and nodded in understanding because he knew somewhere his mother felt lonely after his father's death.

When Karan finished his dinner, he stood up and kissed his mother's forehead again. "Thank you for the food, Aai. Now you should sleep. It is late."

She cupped his face in her hands for a moment and looked at him with so much love that Karan felt his throat tighten. Then she smiled and walked towards her room.

But Karan did not go to his room immediately. He walked towards the children's room first.

Dev and Diya shared a room because they were scared to sleep alone. The room was decorated with cartoon stickers on the walls and toys scattered on the floor. Dev was twelve years old and Diya was five and she looked like a little angel with her curly hair spread out on the pillow while sleeping.

Karan stood there for a long moment just watching them breathe. He remembered the day they had come to live with him.

Dev was seven years old and clearly understood that his parents were no more but Diya, she was still a new born child at that time and that was the reason she calls him papa not uncle.

He bent down and kissed Dev's forehead first. Then he kissed Diya's forehead. He adjusted their blanket because the night had turned cold and then he stood there for another moment just watching them sleep.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," he whispered so quietly that even he could barely hear it. "I promise."

He walked to his room then and changed his clothes. He threw his shirt on the chair and put on a simple cotton shorts.

He was too tired to even think about looking at his phone or any important notification. He collapsed on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.

He closed his eyes and before he knew it, sleep engulfed him completely.