Blowfish Read online

  ‘What will you do? Teleport them?’

  ‘I have thought of something that might work.’

  ‘What? Don’t fuck it up man.’

  ‘No, I won’t. Please trust me.’

  ‘Ok.’

  ‘Thank you Chaddha. I love you man. Don’t worry, we will study for your interview tomorrow.’

  I waited for Chaddha’s message. Five minutes later there was a knock at the door. A soft tap, I barely heard it. I looked through the keyhole. It was Harpal.

  ‘Yes Mr Harpal, may I help you?’

  ‘Yes, I want to talk. Open the door for a minute.’

  I opened the door and stood there. I didn’t want to let him in. He took out a cigarette from his pocket, straightened it and lit it. I took out a beedi bundle from my pocket, tucked a beedi between my teeth and struck a match. I blew smoke in the air and waited. He took a deep drag and said, ‘I know those prescriptions are fake. There’s gibberish written on them by your friend. I checked it with a psychiatrist. He told me. That’s not all, your doctor is a gynaecologist. I bet even you didn’t know this. Your friends must have kept it from you.’

  He stood there smiling. He knew he got me. My beedi went dead. I lit it again. A plume of smoke wafted up into my eyes, I shut my eyes in discomfort and said, ‘So what?’

  ‘So what? I can tell Brigadier Hoshiar right now. We will file the FIR again and you will be on the road in a minute.’

  ‘Ah! Is that all?’ I said.

  ‘Yes. I think I’ve done my duty. I should get going.’

  ‘No, no, wait.’

  ‘Yes?’ he said.

  ‘Why have you come here to tell me this? I mean, why don’t you file your FIR and get us thrown out—do the things you do well? What’s this nonsense? Why do you have to threaten me? Just do it. This is a stupid contest, not a fight of equals, not a fair fight.’

  My neighbours were watching us from behind the door grill. I could barely see their faces. That’s how people lived here, with their faces hidden behind wire meshes and bodies protected by metal grills; with their ears and eyes glued to the cruelty and injustice in the world as if it was a TV show, as if all the bad things were meant for other people.

  He took it calmly. He flicked the ash on our doormat, smiled and said, ‘I was right about your Double Bun, wasn’t I? I had told you these people are like that. I had told you these people never change.’

  ‘His name is Bumbum Mr Harpal and you were wrong. What he did was wrong, he shouldn’t have done it but no one gives us the right to punish people for what they do.’

  ‘So who can punish?’

  ‘The law.’

  ‘Ha! Civilian law … that’s balderdash! There’s nothing that a nice tight slap can’t solve.’

  ‘I don’t agree. No one in his right mind would agree to that.’

  ‘You are wrong. Have you read the Mahabharata, Mr Mukundan?’

  ‘My name is Mukund, Mr Harpal and yes, I have read it.’

  ‘Ok, so I think you should know why Bhishma didn’t marry and why he was considered a great man.’

  ‘Yes, I know. What’s the point?’

  ‘Bhishma was a great man because he protected his clan, his society, his people and gave everything away just to do that. That is why. He was an honourable man and he was always fair.’

  ‘Ok, so you are Bhishma? You are protecting this society from demons and villains like Bumbum and me? We are the villains?’

  ‘Yes, I’m like Bhishma, Mr Bhandari.’

  ‘Ok, so where is Bhishma’s sense of fairness? You know I did the right thing by helping a friend reach the hospital, you know it and still you’re persecuting me for it, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m persecuting you? You have abandoned your father and that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Mr Singh, this is insane ... you are accusing me of imaginary things; you are being intrusive. This is my personal business. And no, I have not abandoned my father.’

  ‘Yes, you have. I know someone in your father’s college. You haven’t visited him even once in the last ten years.’

  ‘Twelve years, it’s twelve, not ten,’ I corrected him, ‘But why does it matter to you? Why does my personal life matter to you?’

  ‘No, of course,’ he said, he had calmed down, ‘it doesn’t matter to me.’

  Twelves years ago, I had spent a sleepless night huddled on the floor of a slow train to meet him. He returned from college to find me waiting at his door. He froze. I ran to him and touched his feet, he smiled awkwardly trying to find something to say. I took out a newspaper clipping from my pocket and showed it to him, my name was encircled in green: the results of the engineering entrance exams that I had cracked in the second attempt. He nodded and smiled. He gave me a room on the first floor of his house. He hadn’t changed—he still ate margarine with toast every morning and smoked a Gold Flake with Green Label tea at exactly four in the afternoon.

  I spent an entire week waiting for him to express his happiness at seeing me. At the station, when my train was about to leave, he told me that next time I visit, I should call and let him know in advance. I nodded. He counted five crisp notes of hundred and then counted them again before handing it to me. I don’t remember if I tried hugging him. Maybe I did. I bought a pack of cigarettes at the next station (with one of his crisp notes) and spent the night smoking at the carriage gate. I was seventeen. The divorce had happened four years back. It was a suitable ending to a reckless expedition.

  ‘It shouldn’t matter,’ I said to Harpal, ‘I don’t want to discuss my life or my father with you. You can do whatever you want, I don’t care.’

  He glared at me. We stood facing each other in silence. ‘You want a fair fight, you want a fight of equals?’

  ‘No, not anymore, I don’t want anything to do with you.’ I said.

  ‘I have only one son Mr Bhandari, just like your father. He has only one son too. Shontoo, my grandson, is four years old. You know how many times I’ve met Shontoo, Mr Bhandari?’

  I didn’t answer. I noticed the hand that held the cane was trembling.

  ‘Would you like to have some coffee?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘Mr Singh, you are right. I want a fair fight,’ I said.

  He lit up, ‘Mr. Bhandari, pistols at dawn!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Let’s settle it with a gun duel!’

  ‘I’m not fighting with guns! I’ve never used a gun.’

  ‘Not even an air-gun?’ he asked.

  ‘Umm … yes once or twice in the school fair,’ I couldn’t lie.

  ‘Well, that’s it then. Air-guns it is, 0400 hours tomorrow morning in my living room. Bring your own gun. Don’t be late and don’t even think of not turning up. My men are watching you’, he lowered his voice and said, ‘the rules are simple: if I’m hit I don’t do anything on the condition you vacate this flat; if you are hit I file a police case. I hope you know that it’s impossible to find a job once you have a police record.’

  He said that and left. I stood there for a while. I couldn’t believe I had been invited to a showdown. I rushed out to tell him I wouldn’t come. He was in the lift by then. I waited for the other lift. When I got to the ground floor, I could hear him grunting. He was about a dozen paces away—a thin, white ghost wobbling away into the fog. He rapped his stick on the pavement: tap—tap—tap—tap—tap, it was a sharp, confident sound; this ghost knew where it was going.

  I pressed the elevator button and went back up.

  I called Suman.

  ‘Hey, I need your advice. This chap Harpal dropped by in the evening today.’

  ‘He came to your place? For what?’

  ‘To say hello. We exchanged some friendly banter,’ I was aping her nonchalance.

  ‘Friendly banter?’

  ‘Yeah, I mean he threatened to put me in prison and ruin my life.’

  ‘Ah yes, then why did you say it was friendly banter?’

>   ‘He was a bit cross, that’s it, nothing more,’ I said and laughed. She remembered. She laughed too. I loved to make her laugh.

  ‘Before he left, he invited me to a showdown. Apparently, I have two choices …’

  ‘What does he mean by showdown?’

  ‘You know, like a penalty decider, like a final confrontation between two people. We’ll both have air-guns and we’ll walk ten paces and then turn around and shoot, that kind of showdown.’

  I told her if I didn’t go for it, he would file a police case against me.

  ‘What are you thinking of doing?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not trying to be brave but I think I should go.’

  ‘Yeah, you are being brave, you’re trying to impress me, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ I smiled. ‘But I also think I owe it to him. He would feel bad if I didn’t show up. I’ll try to reason with him, but if he doesn’t agree to withdraw the case then I will have no option but to kill the chap.’

  She was quiet for a while, then said, ‘Air-guns, right? Hmmm… it’ll be nice if you stay unharmed, but nothing wrong with a few scratches here and there,’ she laughed, ‘go get him Loin!’

  Deepu Beta

  My mother has never once made a Doctor’s appointment, she simply barges into the waiting area, ignores the long queue, whispers some sweet nothings to the nurse, conducts a hush hush tête-à-tête with the patient who’s next in line and lo and behold we are in the doctor’s chamber. I called her, told her about the Bumbum situation. Bumbum was in her good books. She had come over once and was struck by a viral. I was traveling and it seems Bumbum did everything that a good son would do.

  ‘Am I talking to Deependu Chakravertti? Hello Deependu beta, this is Mukund’s mother speaking. Bumbum works for my son. I’m a University professor beta. I used to be the Head, Department of History. Khush raho, khush raho.’ I had conferenced them. She had told me to keep mum and not let them know I was on the call too.

  And it went on and on during which my mother did what I thought was an impossibility—she was listening a lot more than talking! She was interrupting sometimes to highlight Bumbum and Fulki’s stellar character and their inability to commit wrong. She didn’t even know Fulki but she talked about her as if she was her favourite daughter. It was taking too long. I was getting fidgety. I put the phone on the table and lit a cigarette.

  I had a gun battle to fight. How do I prepare? Should I do Kapalbhati followed by some shooting practice? Should I scale the boundary wall and catch the first bullock cart out of town? I picked up the phone and heard her say, ‘Ok Deepu beta, thank you, thank you so much. Give my blessing to Gopa and Achint. May your mother’s osteoporosis get better soon, do go to that Ayurvedic doctor in East Patel Nagar, I will send you his number, I’m telling you he does wonders. Accha beta, thanks again beta, I will tell my son. Good night, good night.’

  From Deependu Chakravertti to Deepu beta—someone should make a Transformers movie on this.

  ‘They will think about it,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you Amma. Thank you. How long will they think about it?’

  ‘Maybe by tomorrow morning we’ll know. I don’t know. It was difficult. What Bumbum and the girl have done is unpardonable. ‘

  ‘I understand Amma. I know, but what will they get out of letting them rot in a lock up.’

  ‘It’s a small lesson for Bumbum and Fulki. We had to arrive at a solution that satisfied them. They are furious and if I were in their situation and you were a one-year-old baby and some stranger was coming in the house without my knowledge, I would not have even given it a second thought.’

  ‘But they have accused them of stealing Amma. I know Bumbum, he wouldn’t steal.’

  ‘What about the girl? Do you know her?’

  ‘No, I don’t but …’

  ‘You are right. I don’t think they stole. I think they have accused them of stealing because they are very, very upset. Deependu seems to be a nice person, I think they’ll withdraw the case tomorrow morning, I think they want them to be in the lockup for a night and punish them.’

  ‘That’s not right, Amma. That inspector is a monster. She has already beaten them up and I don’t know what else is in store for them tonight.’

  ‘Nothing will happen. Just spend the night at the station. Deepu told me it’s an open station, the lock up is near the entrance. Be there and make sure this inspector doesn’t beat them up. In your presence they will not beat them badly.’

  ‘I can’t go Amma.’

  ‘Why not? The station is close by, isn’t it?’

  ‘I can. You are right. Thank you Amma. Thank you so much.’

  ‘It’s ok my baby. You used to crawl when you were one... my little baby! You were the sweetest baby in the world. People used to come from far and wide asking for Bhandari baby, Bhandari baby...’

  This was and had always been super embarrassing. I said, ‘Yes Amma, I have heard that a million times.’

  ‘You used to crawl then. I still remember, there was this time when we couldn’t find the house key, we looked for it everywhere and we had nearly given up when your grandfather thought of asking you, you would have been barely 11 months old or maybe a little over a year. “Where is the key Mukundu? Do you know?” he asked you and I still remember your face. You looked at him with your big googly eyes. You knew what he meant. You crawled, taga—taga taga—taga to your Chacha’s bedroom and you came back with the key! Imagine, you were one at the time! My sweet babybums.’

  My Naani tells the story as it is. I was two then and I used to walk.

  I said, ‘Very nice Amma, very nice. I got to go. Talk to you tomorrow.’

  ‘Ok, my baby, eat well and drink plenty of water.’

  Parashuram-

  Parashuram

  I’m hoping they’ll withdraw the case tomorrow,’ I told Chaddha on the phone.

  ‘What? Why not right now?’

  ‘They can’t right now. I mean they won’t. They want to teach them both a lesson.’

  Chaddha didn’t say anything. He was absorbing it. It was against his “principles of natural justice” and I guess a habeas corpus was needed. After some time, he said, ‘Ok, so they stay in lockup tonight and tomorrow morning they are out?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what it looks like,’ I said. I could have added that I would replace them in the lockup for multiple offences including criminal intent, attempt to murder and forgery.

  ‘Ok, so what do we do now?’ Chaddha had stopped thinking.

  ‘Nothing, you might need to check on them from time to time, to make sure they’re all right. I mean especially because of Fulki.’

  ‘I’m not worried about that. Rani Devi won’t allow anyone else to go near them.’

  ‘Wonderful! Why?’

  ‘She had to buy vegetables. She asked me if would give her a ride. What would I say to that? I drove her to the nearby market. I promised to find a job for her son. I gave her a thousand bucks and requested her to protect Bumbum and Fulki. She said she would. She has promised.’

  ‘So now she’s your friend? This is wonderful. Has she made up for the slaps? Is she caressing your cheeks?’

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘When is your interview tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow noon. I just got some food for them. Now I’m coming home. I will go to the station to check in on them sometime late at night. Hope all is well at home?’

  ‘Yes. I will tell you when you come.’

  ‘What? What now? Tell me.’

  ‘Where do you keep your air-gun’s pellets?’ I asked. I told him everything. He didn’t say a word for a long time, then he said, ‘Bhandari, I’m heartbroken, jobless, I’ve been insulted and beaten up and dragged to the lowest point of my life and what do I get? Nothing! A coward like you gets to fight a duel! You’ll be the martyr, the hero. I’ll be the sidekick. I’m sick of it man.’

  ‘Yes, I’m a coward Chaddha and I’m terrified. Stop thinking about who gets to
play the hero. Who thinks I’m a hero? Who is my audience? No one! No one gives a shit. I’ll have a criminal record, a police case against me if I don’t participate in this.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Let me talk to Hoshiar. No, that won’t help. Hmmm … I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to Harpal.’

  ‘No, please don’t, I don’t want any more talk.’

  ‘You want to play cowboy now? You want to brandish guns and rob Srijan Vihar? Should I steal a stud for you to ride on?’

  ‘I don’t want any more talk Chaddha. I don’t want you to come in and save me anymore.’

  ‘Why? What’s the Mukund Bhandari rationale for this? Explain!’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to turn into a Harpal when I am old Chaddha.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean shit. You are, as usual, intellectualising this Bhandari, that’s all you’re doing. You fucking Brahmins, whatever happens, just say fait accompli and leave others to clean up behind you. Stop playing fucking Plato man! Solve the situation! Solve it! Fuck you!’

  ‘I am solving it Chaddha. I’ll be here with a gun at 0400 hours tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Fuck! This is insane. I’ve never heard of something as stupid as this. I would never have believed it if it were not happening.’

  ‘Will you help me target practice tonight?’ I asked.

  ‘Do you know those air-gun pellets can kill? I have killed birds with them, haven’t I? And you do look like a bird. If struck from a short distance that thing can kill—his living room will give you five to ten feet max.’

  ‘It can hit my eye. I can be one-eyed for the rest of my life.’

  ‘Yes, that’s possible,’ he said, ‘I think you should get him first. Try to draw fast and hit him before he pulls the trigger.’

  ‘Ok, I will try. See you at home.’

  A little later Sampu called to let me know he won’t be able to help with the Bumbum situation. I told him it’s been sorted and added the bit about my early morning rendezvous with Harpal.

  ‘He thinks he’s Bhishma pitmah,’ I concluded.

  ‘So what? You are Parashuram to his Bhishma pitmah!’ he said.