हरा समंदर गोपी चंदर. (False Pride)

गोपी ने दोबारा अपने आप को दिवार पे टंगे आईने में देखा. आईने में सिर्फ उसका गोल गेहुआ रंग का चेहरा, गोल भूरी आँखें, बीड़ी के धुएं से काले पड़े होंठ और तेल से चुपड़े कंघी किये बाल नज़र आ रहे थें. उसने अपने बाल पे हाँथ फेरा की तभी उसकी पांच साल की बेटी उसकी पैंट खीचते हुए बोली, "बापू मुझे भी". गोपी ने उसको अपनी गोद मेंउठा लिया. अब आईने में पिंकी का पावडर से चुपड़ा चेहरा और सर पे दो चोटियों नज़र आ रही थी.

"अब तुम दोनों आईने के सामने ही खड़े रहोगे या चलोगे भी", गोपी की बीवी ने पीछे से आवाज़ लगायी. गोपी ने पिंकी को गोद से नीचे उतारा, और अपनी जेब से पांच पांच सौ के चार करारे नोट निकाल कर उनका निरिक्षण किया. फिर ध्यान से उन्हें अपनी पैंट के चोर पॉकेट में वापस रख लिया.

"इमरती, रिंकू कहाँ है", गोपी ने अपनी पत्नी से पुछा. तभी रिंकू बहार से दौड़ता हुआ अपने एक कमरे के घर में घुसा. "कहाँ चला गया था, देर हो रही है, जाना नहीं है", गोपी अपने सात साल के बेटे पे बरसा.

इमरती अपनी साड़ी का पल्लू ठीक करते हुए दरवाज़े के पास आई, गोपी ने दोनों बच्चों का हाँथ पकड़ा और इमरती के पीछे पीछे घर से बाहर आ गया. इमरती ने अपने पल्लू में बंधी चाबी से दरवाज़े का ताला बंद किया, की तभी गली के कोने से बनिए ने आवाज़ लगायी, "इतना बन संवर कर कहाँ चली यह चौकड़ी?"

"कहीं नहीं बस वो खेल हो रहे हैं तालकटोरा में, स्टेडियम का काम हमने भी किया है न, तो सोचा बच्चों को दिखा लायें", गोपी ने दांत निपोड़ते हुए कहा.

"और सुनो! राशन का पिछला उधार चुकता नहीं होता, और ये खेल देखने जा रहे हैं", बनिए ने लच्छु जलेबी वाले की तरफ देखते हुए ताना कसा.

"सर्माजी तुम अपना काम करो. किसी को इस तरह टोकते अच्छा लगता है क्या. किसी की खुसी देखि न जाती है तुमसे." इमरती बनिए पे बरस पड़ी, और कुछ कुछ बुदबुदाती रिंकू का हाथ पकड़ कर उसे घसीटने लगी. बनिया चुप हो गया. गोपी भी चुप चाप पिंकी का हाथ पकडे इमरती के पीछे हो लिया.

झुग्गियों की बस्ती से बहार निकलते ही दुनिया अलग हो जाती थी. ऐसा लगता था दिल्ली छोड़ कर किसी और ही देश आ गए हो. चौड़ी चौड़ी सड़कें, और उन् पे दौड़ती लम्बी लम्बी गाड़ियाँ, इमारतों की उचाई देख कर इमरती को मतली आती थी. अपने परिवार के साथ बस स्टॉप पे खड़े खड़े, एक बिल्डिंग में मजदूरों को काम करता देख गोपी भी पांच साल पीछे चला गया जब वो पहली बार दिल्ली आया था.

गोपी चंदर उत्तर प्रदेश के एक गाँव से दिल्ली आया था. एक ठेकेदार ने बिल्डिंग में उसे मजदूर की नौकरी पे रख लिया था. गोपी दिन भर मजदूरी करता और शाम को गली गली घूम कर भेलपुरी और गोल गप्पे बेचता. कुछ ही महीनो की कड़ी मेहनत से गोपी ने इतने पैसे इकट्ठे कर लिए की उसने राजीव नगर की झुग्गियों में एक कमरे का मकान पांच सौ रुपये महीने किराये पे ले लिया और गाँव से अपनी बीवी को, जिसकी गोद में दो साल का रिंकू था, दिल्ली बुलवा लिया . दिल्ली आते ही इमरती के पांव फिर भारी हो गए, और गोपी के ठेकेदार ने उसके काम से खुश हो कर उसे दिल्ली के स्टेडियमओ की मरम्मत करने के लिए लगा दिया.

एक साल के बाद दिल्ली की सरकार ने दिल्ली को साफ़ करने का बीड़ा उठाया तो सारे रेहड़ी वाले और फेरी वालों पे गाज गिरी. गोपी का शाम को भेलपुरी बेचना भी बंद हो गया. कुछ दिनों के बाद ठेकेदार ने भी अपने रंग दिखाने शुरू कर दिए, गोपी की तनख्वाह आधी हो गयी और कभी कभी तो तीन तीन सप्ताह तक कोई पैसे नहीं मिलते थें, फिर बनिए की दुकान से उधार लेना पड़ता, दो दो महीने तक किराया न देने पर मालिक मकान हर रोज़ तगादा करने लगा.

जैसे जैसे बच्चे बड़े होने लगे उनकी फरमाइशें भी बढ़ने लगी. कुछ हालात में सुधार हो जाये इसलिए इमरती ने घर घर जा कर बर्तन मांजने का काम शुरू कर दिया. पर न ही हालात में कुछ सुधार हुआ और न ही बच्चों की फरमाइशें बंद हुई. और तो और रात को खाने के समय इमरती भी ताना दे जाती, "गाँव से लोगों की जूठन साफ़ करवाने को ले कर आये थें मुझे".

बस की पों पों और उड़ती धुल ने गोपी को वापस वर्तमान में लाया. आँखें मलते हुए उसने पिंकी को गोद में उठाया और इमरती का हाथ पकड़ कर बस में चढ़ गया. बस में चढ़ कर उसने कंडक्टर से चार चार रुपये के चार टिकेट लिए और भीड़ भरी बस में एक कोने में खड़ा हो गया.

जिस दिन गोपी को पता चला था की देश विदेश से खिलाड़ी उसके बनाये स्टेडियम में खेलने आयेंगे उस दिन से उसने पैसे जोड़ने शुरू किये थे, सोचा था की अपनी बीवी और बच्चों को ले जा कर अपना बनाया स्टेडियम दिखायेगा, उनकी नज़रों में उसकी कुछ तो इज्ज़त बढ़ेगी. आज खेल शुरू होने के सात दिनों के बाद गोपी अपनी बीवी और बच्चों के साथ तालकटोरा स्टेडियम में बॉक्सिंग मैच देखने जा रहा था.

तालकटोरा के टिकेट खिड़की पे उसने ढाई ढाई सौ के तीन टिकिटें खरीदीं. गाढ़ी मेहनत के साढ़े सात सौ रुपये जाते देख गोपी का कलेजा मूह को आता था मगर बीवी के सामने खोई इज्ज़त वापस लाने की बात थी. दूसरी ओर इमरती यह सोच कर खुश थी की झुग्गी की कोई भी औरत खेल देखने को नहीं गयी थी और इसलिए कल जब मुनिसिपलिटी की नल पे सब पानी भरने को इक्कट्ठा होंगी तो वो अपने पति की बढाई कर इतराएगी.

स्टेडियम के दरवाज़े पे दो दरबानों ने गोपी और उसकी बीवी को रोका और उनके टिकिट चेक किये. मेटल डिटेक्टर को पार कर जैसे ही गोपी और उसका परिवार स्टेडियम में दाखिल हुआ, एक सुन्दर सी, सलवार कुर्ता पहने युवती ने गोपी के मूंह के पास माइक घुसेड़ते हुए पुछा "आप CWG देखने आये हैं आप को कैसा लग रहा है?".

"सी कौन ची?" गोपी अकचकाया. युवती के पीछे एक आदमी अपने कंधे में कैमरा लिए खड़ा था.

"यह खेल जो आप देखने आये हैं अपने परिवार के साथ, आपको कैसा लग रहा है?" युवती ने दोबारा पुछा.

"मैडम बहुत अच्छा लग रहा है", गोपी ने कहा.

"ये स्टेडियम इन्होने ने ही बनाया है, मैडम", इमरती ने माइक को अपनी मूंह की ओर खींचते हुए बोला.

"हाँ मैडम ये स्टेडियम में फौल सी-लिंक का काम हमने किया है", गोपी ने माइक में मूंह घुसाते हुए कहा.

"बापू हम लोग टीवी पर आयेंगे", रिंकू ने गोपी की पैंट खींचते हुए पुछा.

"जैसा की आप देख सकते हैं यहाँ पे एक मजदूर है जिसने तालकटोरा स्टेडियम के फाल्स सीलिंग का काम किया है, वो भी CWG देखने आया है और गर्व महसूस कर रहा है", युवती कैमरे की तरफ मुड़ते हुए बोली. एक और व्यक्ति को स्टेडियम में दाखिल होता देख, युवती और कैमरामैन उसकी ओर लपक लिए.

"बापू हम लोग टीवी पर कब आयेंगे", रिंकू ने फिर पुछा.

"चुप रह", इमरती ने रिंकू को झटक दिया. "अपना नाम काहे नहीं बताये टीवी वाली को?"

"पूछी नहीं तो नहीं बताये", गोपी ने सर झुकाते हुए कहा.

चारो स्टेडियम के अन्दर कोने में कुर्सियों पे जा बैठे. सामने बॉक्सिंग रिंग में दो खिलाड़ी थें. उनमे से एक ने नीली रंग की हाफ पैंट ओर नीली रंग की बनयान, और दुसरे ने लाल रंग की हाफ पैंट और लाल रंग की बनयान पहन रखी थी और एक दुसरे की धुनाई कर रहे थें. जब मामला बिगड़ जाता तो एक तीसरा आदमी जो की सफ़ेद रंग की शर्ट और काले रंग की पैंट पहने था बीच बचाव के लिए कूद पड़ता, फिर सीटी बजाता और दोनों खिलाडी फिर एक दूसरे को धुनने लगते.

ये सिलसिला कुछ देर तक चलता रहा. बीच बीच में दोनों खिलाडी कोने में बैठ बैठ कर पानी पीते और आराम करते और सीटी बजने पर फिर शुरू हो जाते. तभी लाल बनयान पहने हुए खिलाडी ने नीली बनयान वाले खिलाडी को इतनी जोर का मुक्का मारा की वो रिंग के चारों ओर लगी रस्सियों में उलझ कर धराशायी हो गया. उसके गिरते ही गोपी ने देखा फाल्स सीलिंग का एक बड़ा हिस्सा, ज़ोरदार धमाके के साथ, टूट कर दोनों खिलाड़ियों के बीच आ गिरा. एक पल के लिए गोपी को मानो ऐसा लगा की सारी दुनिया थम गयी हो. कुछ भी नहीं हिल रहा था और चारों ओर सन्नाटा छा गया था. गोपी को लगा मानो उसके सारे सपने टूट कर ज़मीन पर बिखर गए. अब तो उसकी जो भी रही सही इज्ज़त थी, उसके बीवी बच्चों की नज़र में, वो भी फाल्स सीलिंग के साथ चकना चूर हो गयी थी. इमरती के डर के मारे पांव ज़मीन में जम गए.

बॉक्सिंग रिंग के चारों तरफ मनो हडकंप मच गया. लोग अपनी कुर्सियों से उठ कर भागने लगे. "भागो भागो स्टेडियम ढह रहा है", एक आदमी गोपी के बगल से चिल्लाता हुआ भागा. "भूकंप आ गया भूकंप", किसी कोने से किसी औरत के चीखने की आवाज़ आई. मगर गोपी को पता था की क्या हुआ है. उसने पिंकी को गोद में उठाया, और इमरती का हाथ पकड़ कर खीचने लगा. इमरती ने रिंकू का हाथ पकड़ा और इससे पहले की कोई उन्हें कुछ कह सके गोपी के पीछे पीछे निकास की ओर तेज़ी से बढ़ने लगे. जैसे ही गोपी स्टेडियम के दरवाज़े से बहार निकला दूर कोने में उसने उसी टीवी वाली युवती को देखा. वो कैमरे की तरफ इशारा कर कर के कुछ चिल्ला रही थी. उसके अगल बगल और भी कई लोग माइक पकडे कैमरे में देख कर कुछ चिल्ला रहे थें. जो लोग ऐसा नहीं कर रहे थें वो चारों ओर तितर बितर भाग रहे थें.

टीवी वाली युवती की नज़र गोपी पे पड़ी. गोपी इमरती का हाँथ पकड़ कर जोर से खीचने लगा और अपने कदम तेज़ कर लिए. लेकिन तभी वो युवती बिलकुल गोपी के सामने आ कर खड़ी हो गयी और गोपी की ओर इशारा कर केकैमरे में कहने लगी, "देखिये येही है वो शख्स, येही है वो देश का गुनहगार जिसने इस स्टेडियम की फाल्स सीलिंग का काम किया ओर आज जब की सारी दुनिया की निगाहें हम पे थी, वो फाल्स सीलिंग, इस देश के दुश्मन के द्वारा बनायीं गयी वो फाल्स सीलिंग गिर गयी. हम आपको दिखा रहे हैं उस देश द्रोही का चेहरा सबसे पहले अपने चैनल पर. आइये पूछते हैं उसने ये घिनौनी हरकत क्यूँ की. देश की इज्ज़त के साथ ये खिलवाड़ क्यूँ किया आखिर इस दरिन्दे ने", और फिर गोपी के मूंह में माइक घुसेड़ते हुए पुछा "अब आप को कैसा लग रहा है."

इससे पहले की गोपी कुछ कह पाता दूसरे टीवी वाले उस युवती की बातें सुन कर गोपी के आस पास इक्कठा होने लगे. और एक साथ कई माइकों और कैमरों के हुजूम ने गोपी और उसके परिवार को चारों ओर से घेर लिया. गोपी ने कुछ कहने को मूंह खोला मगर भीड़ में उसकी आवाज़ कोई सुनने को तैयार नहीं था. वो कहता रहा की यह उसकी गलती नहीं है मगर इतने शोर में उसकी आवाज़ दब गयी. ऐसा लग रहा था मानो सैकड़ों मक्खियाँ कचरे के ढेर पे दावत उड़ा रही हो. लेकिन अचानक ही सारी मक्खियाँ दूसरी तरफ मुड गयी मानो उन्हें कोई दूसरा, ज्यादा ही स्वादिष्ट कचरे का ढेर दिख गया हो.

एक आदमी सफ़ेद खद्दर पहने, सर पे गाँधी टोपी लगाये, हाँथ जोड़े, लंगडाते हुए स्टेडियम की सीढियां चढ़ रहा था. उसके चारों तरफ पांच छह पुलिस वाले उसको घेर कर चल रहे थें और उनके हाथों में बंदूकें थी. पुलिस और बन्दूक देखते ही गोपी कांपने लगा. उसे लगा ये नेताजी उसको पकड़ने के लिए पुलिस ले कर आये थें. गोपी की घिग्घी बंध गयी. मन ही मन वो उस दिन को कोसने लगा जब वो गाँव से दिल्ली आया था, और उस से भी ज्यादा उस पल को जब उसने बॉक्सिंग मैच देखने का फैसला किया था. पसीने से तर बतर वो कोने में खड़ा कांप रहा था. पिंकी उसके पैरों को जकडे खड़ी थी, और रिंकू अपनी माँ का हाँथ पकडे सारा तमाशा देख रहा था.

इमरती ने देखा मक्खियाँ अब अपने नए शिकार के ऊपर भिनभिना रही थी मगर पुलिस वाले उनको कचरे के ढेर पे बैठने नहीं दे रहे थें. तभी इमरती का दिमाग ठनका, अब किसी का भी ध्यान उन पर नहीं था. सभी लोग नेताजी को घेरे खड़े थें. दरवाज़े के कोने में थोड़ी सी जगह थी, इमरती ने गोपी और रिंकू का हाँथ पकड़ा और जोर से दरवाजे की ओर खीचने लगी. गोपी अड़ियल सांड की तरह इमरती के पीछे खींचता गया, मगर उसकी आँखें पुलिस और उनके हांथों की बंदूकों पे टिकी रही. इमरती ने पूरी ताकत से गोपी को खींचा और घसीटते हुए दरवाज़े से बहार निकल गयी. किसी ने भी उन्हें रोका नहीं. स्टेडियम के कम्पाउंड से बहार आ कर इमरती ने चैन की सांस ली. पीछे देखा तो रिंकू और पिंकी दौड़ते आ रहे थें. गोपी अब भी डर के कारन जड़ित था. एक पेड़ की ओट में ले जा कर इमरती ने गोपी के कंधे पकड़ कर जोर से झंक्झोंरा. गोपी होश में आया और अपना माथा पकड़ कर ज़मीन पर बैठ गया.

"इससे पहले की कोई तुम्हे देख ले और जेल में डाल दे, चलो यहाँ से", इमरती ने गोपी की बाहें खीचते हुए कहा.

गोपी धीरे धीरे खड़ा हुआ, पिंकी को गोद में उठाया और रिंकू का हाँथ पकड़ कर बस स्टॉप की तरफ चलने लगा. इमरती ने इधर उधर देखा, आस पास कोई भी नहीं था, एक अमबुलंस स्टेडियम के अन्दर जा रही थी. इमरती गोपी के पीछे पीछे चलने लगी और बार बार पीछे मुड मुड कर देखती थी.

"बापू अब आप उस छत्त को कब ठीक करोगे", पिंकी ने अपना हाँथ गोपी चंदर के कंधे पे रखते हुए पुछा.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction and all incidents and names of the people occurring in this story are fictional. The story has been inspired from the movie 'Peepli Live' and the name of the story has been inspired from a phrase used in the song 'Des mera rangrez' performed by Indian Ocean in the same movie.

उम्मीद (Ummeed - Hope)

सुबह की किरणों ने फिर एक नया उमंग है जगाया
आसमा को छूने का नया सपना है दिखाया


उड़ने के लिए मैंने भी पंख हैं फैलाये
पर कड़ी धुप को देख मेरी उम्मीदें डगमगाए


गुमसुम चुपचाप सा मैं कोसने लगा किस्मत को
क्यूँ आज ही तपना था इस सूरज को


ध्यान मेरा एक पंची ने मोड़ा
मेरे भ्रम को उस नन्हे से जीव ने तोडा


कड़कती धुप में भी वोह चह्चहा रहा था
मानो सूरज को अपने गीत सुना रहा था


हिम्मत उसकी देख मैं मुस्काया
और मेरी समझ में यह आया
के बिना हौसले के किसी ने कुछ भी नहीं है पाया.

---------------------------------------------

The morning Sun rays filled my heart with a new hope

It gave me a new dream to reach for the skies

I stretched my wings to fly

But the heat from the Sun jaded my spirits

Silently I blamed my fate

Why the Sun had to beat down like this when I had to take off

A bird attracted my attention

And it broke my fallacy

In the heat of the Sun the bird was singing

As if it was singing in the praise of the Sun

I smiled at his courage

And I understood

That without courage and hope no one has ever gained anything.

Kartick & Gotam - Business Class Refugees (A Review)

First things first, Business Class Refugees is an album compiled by music producer Patrick Sebag (Kartick) and sound designer Yotam Agam (Gotam). The album contains ten tracks. The album has been produced by EarthSync India. [Follow EarthSync on Twitter]

Business Class Refugees is a compilation of world music which Kartick and Gotam have mixed with electonica funk with heavy influences from India. The album features distinguished artists from around Asia and the Middle East such as Mahesh Vinayakram, Erez Lev Ari, Navin Iyer, Yoav Bunzel, Anuradha Viswanathan, Murad A

li and Mishko M’Ba.

The album is nice mix of soothing numbers which highlights the theme of the album that is travelling. The music does comprise of myriad sounds collected from all over the globe and well performed by the artists as mentioned above. [Buy the music here.]

The first track ‘Bonjour’ is a nice soothing mix of clarinet, flute and male and female vocals. The track is a bit fast but it still leaves a calming effect on the listener. Well placed female and male vocals provide a texture to the music.

The track ‘Tamil Bossa’ starts with a brilliant flute solo and is followed by awesome Carnatic vocals. The flute makes the track very soothing. The Carnatic vocals take you to a time very far in the past. The track is nicely paced and invites the listener to close their eyes and lose themselves to the music.

[Subscribe to the Earthsync channel on Youtube]

Business Class Refugees’ next track ‘Boye Boye’ starts with the voice over of a flight stewardess making announcements and sets the tone of the album. The music involves a variety of sounds which range from the harmonium, sitar, to sarod. The amalgamation of music and the vocals transfers the listener to a land somewhere in Middle East Asia and the sitar and tabla brings him back to India. The song is racy and foot tapping.

‘Shiva Shiva’ starts with the tone of sarangi and quawalli like claps in the background. The song overall has a classical feel to it with a trance like effect. The vocals again provide the texture to it and the tabla will make you tap your feet.

The track ‘Rututu’ also starts with an announcement by a flight stewardess and then takes on a pace which you can identify with the running of a train, again very much in theme of the album. The saxophones are the soul of this track and are guaranteed to make you get up from your seat and groove. The song has a feel of retro funk due to the saxophones and cello in the background.

Other tracks in the album are ‘Heer’, ‘Door Open Door’, ‘Vellai Thaamarai’, ‘Supreme Chaos’ and ‘Hear Comes The Funk’. All the tracks are quite soothing to listen to. [Listen to the tracks here]

Kartick & Gotam - Business Class Refugees is a must if you are a world music and fusion music fan. For music lover like me who can listen to all types of music it was a treat listening to the album. The music is fresh unlike other electronika funk albums the music grows as you listen to it again and again. The concept of travelling and composing music makes the whole album a very unique experience. Recommended!

A Special Date.

It was a bright sunny morning exactly the way he had expected it to be. He raised his eyes and scanned the sky. The sky was blue with the lone morning Sun shining. His black jacket fluttered in the November breeze. With a smile he stepped out of his building, swinging his walking stick in his left hand.

“Good morning Cutinho saab!” said the doorman standing up.

“Morning Bahadur, how is your wife now”, he asked putting his hand on the doorman’s shoulder.

“She is fine now saab.”

“Looking sharp in that black suit Mr. Cutinho”, said a voice from behind.

Mr. Cutinho turned around and saw a tall fair young man entering the compound. He wore a white t-shirt, grey slacks and running shoes. His face and hair were moist with sweat and he smiled brightly at him.

“Good morning Ravi! Looks like you are back in shape these days.”

“Yes I am trying to be regular at my jogging routine these days. Where are you off to today?”

“Well, I am going on a date”, said Mr. Cutinho.

“That’s great! May I ask with whom?”

“With my wife of course”, said Mr. Cutinho with a laugh.

Ravi smiled back at him.

“My wife has her own way of celebrating our marriage anniversary, I pretend to be her blind date and we spend the whole day wooing each other. Today is our thirty fifth marriage anniversary. So you see Ravi if I am to meet my blind date I must look sharp.”

“That’s an awesome way to spend such a special day. Hope you two have fun.” said Ravi with a calm expression on his face.

Mr. Cutinho nodded, patted Ravi on his shoulder and walked out of the complex. He walked on the sidewalk swinging his walking stick with the enthusiasm of a young lover about to meet his beloved for the first time. He bought a bunch of red roses from the flower shop and went to the bus stop.

As he waited for the bus he thought about all the good years he had spent with his wife. She had been sad after their only son left them and went to the US. But after Mr. Cutinho retired as the CEO of a leading multinational in the country four years back his savings and incomes from investments were enough to support their needs, so he had enough time to spend with his wife.

Bus number 438 came and Mr. Cutinho boarded it. He took a seat at the end of the bus and bought a ticket for the next stop. As the bus started to gain speed he started to think about her again.

They had begun to enjoy their new found privacy and the free time they got. This was the time when they fell in love with each other again. It was their thirty first marriage anniversary, first after his retirement, when she suggested that they should pretend to be blind dates for each other.

The bus stopped.

Mr. Cutinho picked up the flowers and stepped off the bus. After walking for a few minutes he came to a huge iron gate. Through the gate he saw trees of all kinds. The area was surrounded by a crumbling boundary wall. He heard the sea which lay beyond the boundary walls. He heard a church bell toll in a distance.

Through the small gate on the right of the huge Iron Gate he entered the compound. He heard the birds chirp. His heart was at peace. He walked until he could clearly hear the water lashing on the sea shore. He came to Gulmohar tree, sat down underneath it, and kept the flowers on one side. With trembling fingers he traced the carvings on the granite stone. It said:

Mrs. Cynthia Cutinho

1958 - 2007

The Turn of Events.

The night was unusually eerie, with an abnormally empty train. The bottles in his knapsack clinked as he held it closer to his chest. The train pulled into the station, he stepped on to the platform. He checked the digital clock in the platform it said 09:05 p.m. He jumped as his mobile phone gave out a shrill ring which echoed in the deserted platform. He pulled out the mobile phone and looked at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

He pressed a key on t

he keypad and spoke in Gujrati “Hello Ramnik Patel bolo chuun”. (This is Ramnik Patel speaking).

“Ramnik bhai, Sharma boloon chuun, kem cho?” (This is Sharma speaking, how are you) said a squeaky voice from the other side.

“Arey Sharma bhai, yes, yes I am back in Mumbai. Just stepped out of the train, I will take a rickshaw and reach home in another half an hour.”

“Okay. How was your vi

sit to Surat?”

“Arey, saarru, the business was good. Since the demand was high I made

a neat profit and what more a trader gave me two bottles of imported scotch”, said Ramnik with a laugh which showed his gutkha stained teeth.

“Su vaat che. Then what’s the plan for tonight.”

“Come over to my house we will have a couple of drinks and watch some movie on the DVD player”, said Ramnik again with a laugh as his pot belly jiggled.

“Okay I will reach there in an hour”, said Sharma and the line went dead.

Ramnik came out of

the station and saw an auto rickshaw coming towards him. He raised his hand but the auto rickshaw increased its speed and bolted past him. “Goregaon”, he shouted in anger. But the auto rickshaw disappeared around the corner. Cars a

nd buses sped by him towards their respective destinations. He heard the soft purr of another auto rickshaw and raised his hand again. The rickshaw slowed down in front of him and stopped.

Ramnik looked at the rickshaw driver. The driver’s double chin connected his head with his torso and it looked as if he didn’t have any neck. Ramnik felt a chill in his spine when he looked at the blood shot eyes.

“Goregaon”, he fi

nally managed to mutter.

The rickshaw driver nodded uninterestedly and chewed something in his mouth. Ramnik jumped into the back seat and the rickshaw groaned into motion.

Ramnik noticed that the rickshaw driver was looking at the gold chain on his neck. He tried to

hide it behind his shirt. As their eyes met Ramnik diverted his gaze. The rickshaw driver fished out a mobile from his shirt pocket pressed a few keys and put it on his ears. After a couple of seconds he disconnected the call and put the phone back in his pocket. The driver fixed his eyes on the street and drove uninterestedly.

He suddenly took a sharp right turn into a dark alley. “Why are you not taking the highway”, asked Ramnik.

“Shortcut hai”, replied the rickshaw driver gruffly.

Ramnik clutched the knapsack closer and looked around the dark alley. Fluorescent light from a tube light lit a rectangular patch across the road ahead. He heard a dog bark somewhere in the dark. Muffled sounds of a television came from the open window. The auto rickshaw swerved again this time to the left. They were now on a small bridge across an open sewer. Dirty water flowed in the sewer and a lone streetlight flickered at the

end of the bridge. Big metal pipes emerged from under the ground at the beginning of the bridge and vanished into the ground at the end of it.

As they crossed the bridge a tall man emerged from the darkness and gestured for the auto rickshaw to stop. He was dressed in spotless white half sleeved shirt and a spotless white pair of pants. Ramnik couldn’t understand whether the skin of the man was really that dark or whether it was the contrast of the color of his garments which made him look that dark. The gold wrist watch in his right h

and glistened as he waved at the rickshaw to stop. The rickshaw lurked to a stop.

The man put his head inside the rickshaw and sniffed at the driver’s face. Ramnik looked at the man’s muscular arms almost ebony black as he held the drivers backrest, the wrist watch looked expensive. Ramnik noticed that the man’s head was now turned towards him.

“What’s in that bag?” he asked, pointing at Ramnik’s knapsack.

“Why did you stop us? And who are you to ask anything?” replied Ramnik. He had always been a meek man trying to avoid confrontations but when cornered even the cow has no option but to retaliate.

The man pulled his head out of the rickshaw, and put his head again inside, this time straight into Ramnik’s face. As Ramnik stared at the man’s dark eyes a drop of cold sweat trickled down his brows, and before he could say anything the man’s fleshy palm struck Ramnik’s left ear. All Ramnik heard was a loud clap and his head started to reel. All he could see in front of were colored spots and all he could hear was a dim buzz of a bee somewhere deep inside his eardrum.

The man held Ramnik by his collar and dragged him out of the rickshaw. Ramnik still reeling from the slap clutched on to his knapsack with his right hand and with his left held the rickshaw to keep himself standing. With watery eyes he saw the driver being pulled out of the rickshaw. As the driver begged for mercy with folded hands the man turned to Ramnik again.

“Do you know who I am”, he yelled. Before Ramnik could understand he stuck a laminated card into Ramnik’s face and yelled “Patil from crime branch Mumbai”.

“We are responsible for people’s lives here and you are not allowing me to do my duties. Do you know what I can do, I can put you in lockup for months and nobody would even come to look at you”, he shouted again.

Ramnik started sweating profusely and his legs started to shake. “But… but I haven’t done anything”, Ramnik managed to whisper.

“What is your name?” asked Patil as he snatched the knapsack from Ramnik’s hands, the bottles clunked in protest.

“Ramnik bhai”, said Ramnik.

“Toh tu bhai hai!” smirked Patil.

Ramnik shook his head vigorously.

“What is this? Liquor! That too so much”, said Patil pulling out both the bottles from the bag. “Do you have a permit with you to carry liquor in such large quantities”, he asked.

“But saab these are gifts from my friend”, said Ramnik.

“Acha! Where are you coming from?”

“Saab, Borivali.”

“Where did you pick him from”, asked Patil turning to the driver.

“Saab, from Borivali station.”

“And what were you doing at Borivali station at this time, does your friend stay at Borivali station”, asked Patil turning to Ramnik again.

“No saab I was returning from Surat.”

“What! You mean to say you smuggled these bottles from a dry state!” shouted Patil, almost spitting at Ramnik’s face as he dangled the bottle in the air.

Ramnik’s body was now shivering as if he was in a fit. Patil handed the bottles to the driver and looked inside the bag again. He pulled out a rectangular packet wrapped in news paper.

“And what is this?”said Patil waving the packet in the air.

He threw the empty bag on the ground and started tearing the news paper wrapping off unveiling a bundle of crisp Rs. 500 notes.

Patil rolled his head to his left, put his left hand on his hips, waved the bundle in the air and said, “what do we have here, a bundle of fake five

hundred rupee notes!”

“No these are not fake”, shouted Ramnik and tried to snatch the bundle from Patil’s hand. But Patil swung his left arm swiftly and caught Ramnik in the chest. Ramnik fell on the ground, clutching his chest and coughing.

“Both of you will have to come down to the police station. We will have to verify these notes.”

The driver threw himself on the ground and started howling and pleading. “But saab I have done nothing, I just picked him up from the station. I don’t know him. I have small kids at home to feed saab!” cried the driver and hung on to Patil’s legs. The driver looked at Ramnik, winked and gestured him to do the same.

On the cue Ramnik plunged forward and wrapped his hands around Patil’s other leg and started wailing, “Saab these notes are not fake, this is an honest man’s hard earned money. Please have mercy saab I have small kids, an old mother, a wife and a blind sister to feed at home.”

Patil’s gave one sharp kick which landed on the rickshaw driver’s stomach he gave out a loud yelp and went reeling in the dust. Another kick landed on Ramnik’s groin, he gave out a muffled cry and doubled in pain.

“Get up now both of you”, shouted Patil pulling Ramnik by his shirt collar.

Ramnik somehow managed to stand up still clutching his groin. Patil put the wad of notes in his shirt pocket.

“Saab we are poor people”, said the rickshaw driver standing up, “can’t we cut a deal and all go home”, and winked at Ramnik again.

Ramnik got the cue and cried again “Yes saab please, I am ready to pay you. Please saab I have small children, an old mother, a blind sister…”

“You dare to offer me a bribe, I am an honest cop I will die but will not take bribe.” shouted Patil cutting Ramnik short. “I will make both of you rot in jail for offering me a bribe.”

“Saab, please forgive me saab, I will not say that again”, cried Ramnik and threw himself again at Patil’s feet. Patil pulled him up again.

“Okay, okay we will see to that”, he said.

Patil went to the auto rickshaw and sat in the back seat. Ramnik looked at him wide eyed not knowing what was to come next. Patil took out a white handkerchief from his pant pocket and spread it on the seat beside him. He then raised his shirt and pulled out a revolver which was stuck in his pants and kept it beside the handkerchief. Ramnik stared at the white piece of cloth and then at the shiny black revolver on the brown leather seat.

“Both of you, empty whatever you have on this handkerchief.” said Patil.

Hesitantly the rickshaw driver pulled out a few notes and coins from all his pockets and put it on the handkerchief.

“The wrist watch and the mobile too”, said Patil, pointing his fleshy finger at the rickshaw driver’s wrist. The driver unstrapped the wrist watch, pulled out a mobile from his shirt pocket and kept it on the cloth. The rickshaw driver went ahead and sat on the driver’s seat.

“Tujhchya aila! Should I send you an invitation card”, swore Patil crushing his teeth at Ramnik. Ramnik with shaking hand took out his wallet, his wrist watch and mobile and put it on the handkerchief.

“Is that a gold chain in your neck”, asked Patil moving his fingers slowly on the butt of revolver.

Ramnik looked at the driver timidly for a second and said wiping tears from his eyes, “Saab my dead father gave this to me when he was dying. Please don’t take it from me. This is his last gift to me.”

“Are you taking it off or should I send you off to meet your dead father”, said Patil his fingers still feeling the butt of the pistol.

Ramnik looked at the pistol for a moment and then looked at the driver with pleading eyes. The driver jerked his head towards Patil. Ramnik wiped his brow with the back of his hand and slowly pulled out the gold chain over his neck.

“Now take both the bottles, empty them in the drain there, and break the bottles”, said Patil pointing at the bottles lying on the ground and then waving his hand towards the drain behind the rickshaw.

Ramnik picked up both the bottle and went to the drain. With a click he broke the cap of one of the bottles and started pouring the liquor as it trickled slowly through the closed spout of the bottle. He looked up at the sky saying a silent prayer hoping that after he had threw all the alcohol Patil would let him go safely to his home. The night sky was dark hardly any stars were visible.

The bottle was almost empty now so he threw the empty bottle on the side of the drain. It broke with a loud crashing noise which pierced the silent night. Hearing the noise dogs started to bark in a distance. Ramnik turned around and looked at the back of the rickshaw, it was still there. He opened the cap of the second bottle and tilted it, the liquor began to fall in the drain with a pattering sound.

Ramnik heard a spurting sound coming from behind. It sounded as if someone was trying to start a motor. And suddenly the motor started, with a loud purring noise. Ramnik turned around and saw the rickshaw gaining motion slowly. Before Ramnik could realize anything the rickshaw swerved and crossed him. Ramnik saw Patil and the rickshaw driver smiling at him from the moving rickshaw. Ramnik gave out a loud cry and ran after the rickshaw which was now racing in the direction from where it had come.

Ramnik ran shrieking like a madman after the speeding rickshaw as far as his legs would carry his potbellied body. In a minute Ramnik ran out of steam and almost avoided tripping and falling. He fell on his knees panting like a dog. The half empty bottle of liquor was still in his hand. A car whizzed by and then a taxi. He was sweating, he was thirsty and his clothes were dusty. He took a swig from the bottle.

“Arrrggghhh…” he cried as his throat burned.

Still kneeling on the ground and panting, he looked in the direction the rickshaw had taken off and cursed under his breath. He took another gulp from the bottle. This time the liquor didn’t hurt much. He wiped his mouth with back of his hand and tried to pull himself up. But gravity seemed to pull his body down.

He drank some more from the bottle. He shook his head vigorously. Everything around him was starting to tumble. Cars, motorbikes and taxis zipped by him in slow motion. He gathered all his strength and pulled himself up. His knees shook, and the ground seemed to be moving. With both his hands spread wide in the air he tried to balance himself. In a few seconds he succeeded.

“Brrrrrr…” he shook his head again.

He waved at a vehicle coming in his direction the car didn’t even bother to slow down. His gaze followed the car’s dancing tail lamp.

“Son of a bastard”, he muttered.

He was shaking with rage, at the same time he felt helpless at such cruel turn of events. He knew he couldn’t do anything. He thought of going to the police station to lodge an FIR. He looked around and then smelled his own breath. His breath reeked of alcohol. He knew if he went to the police station in this condition to lodge an FIR against a man who claimed to be an honest cop he will have to spend the rest of the night in jail.

He raised the bottle to his lips again pushed his head back and drank the bitter liquor for some time.

“Arrrggghhh…” he hissed again, as the almost empty bottle came down from his lips and dangled in his hand.

Ramnik looked in both the directions. He saw an auto rickshaw coming his way. He tried raising his hand to wave but his whole body was revolting under the effect of alcohol. By the time he raised his hand the rickshaw had rushed past him. He looked at the bottle and decided to walk home.

He walked for sometime which seemed like hours to him. He felt his body reacting to his instructions in slow motion. Everything around him swayed. The red tail lamps of the vehicles passing by him revolved in circles before disappearing in the dark.

He raised the bottle to his lips but only a few drops fell. He shook the bottle over his lips anticipating more liquor to come out but nothing happened.

“Son of a bastard!” he cursed the bottle which he had raised in the air. The street light twinkled in his eyes through the empty bottle. With his full might he swung his whole body and let the bottle go.

The bottle flew in air, rotating like a grenade fired from a launcher. Ramnik’s bleary eyes followed the projectile which seemed to be flying in slow motion like every other thing around him. The bottle landed on the windshield of an auto rickshaw. The wind shield cracked and the bottle burst in to a thousand shards of glass.

The rickshaw instead of slowing down started speeding but it kept moving towards its left, it swerved a bit, tipped and then fell on its left side the engine died down with a loud groan. Ramnik watched the whole event unfolding petrified. Suddenly the streets were empty and everything was silent. He could hear the dogs barking again in a distance.

Someone’s faint moan jerked Ramnik to life again. He knew the moaning was coming from the rickshaw. Suddenly he found himself sober. He was still swaying but his senses had returned. Slowly he began moving towards the overturned vehicle, went around it and peeped inside. He was unable to say whether it was his own stink or it was the rickshaw that was stinking of alcohol.

He saw the driver was unconscious and his face was bloodied. The man in the passenger seat was groaning and slowly moving his head. The man seemed to be semi conscious. Ramnik’s eyes fell on a white cloth tied in a small bundle lying near the man’s legs. He looked at the man’s face, his head was tilted on one side, his nose was bleeding and his eyes were half closed. With his fleshy right hand he held the iron rod of the rickshaw above him, the gold watch in his wrist glistened in the dark.

Ramnik looked around the streets were still empty, a couple of cars had passed by without bothering to stop. Ramnik stooped inside the rickshaw and picked up the cloth bundle. He was about to get out when he noticed another bundle at the man’s feet. He picked up the bundle it was a wad of crisp five hundred rupee notes. As he pocketed both the things a car stopped behind him.

“What happened?” asked a voice, as Ramnik turned around. Two men jumped off the vehicle.

“Call an ambulance”, said one of the men. Another motorbike stopped. Some more people ran from the other side of the road towards Ramnik. Ramnik watched them in bewilderment. Men started to pull the victims out of the rickshaw. Ramnik slowly started to melt in the shadows.

“Are you okay”, someone asked him. He mumbled something and slipped out of the chaos. He started to walk away from the crowd as fast as his wobbling legs would carry him. A rickshaw slowed down beside him.

Ramnik looked inside the vacant rickshaw, “Goregaon”, he said. The rickshaw driver nodded.

Away from the mess now he felt a bit confident and asked “what happened back there?”

“Bewade log saab”, (drunkards sir) said the rickshaw driver and sped off.