Forsaken - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Kitna hua?” (How much?) The Marvadi sett (people who are from Marvad, Rajasthan are known by this name and generally into Pawn brokering and Jewellery businesses) asked him.

Ajit checked the taxi meter and consulted the rate card. “One hundred and thirty, Sett.” The taxi meter has always annoyed Ajit. In Mumbai, the taxis had a peculiar meter. It did not show the fare amount. Instead it displayed an index like, 3.5. 4.4. Either the driver had to commit it all to memory, or refer the card on which all the indexes and respective rates were printed.
“What? I did not ask the price of your car.” The passenger scorned him.

“Settji, you check the meter and here is the card.”

“You cabbies are all alike. You know how to loot poor people”

The Marvadi sett was searching for a hundred rupee in his thick wallet, filled with five hundreds. He pulled out a hundred.

“This is enough. Okay?”

Damn it! The first trip is going to be a fighting one. Ajit tried to ebb the flame that was simmering within him.

“Settji, I only asked what is there on the meter. I don’t want to create a scene here. Give me 130 rupees.”

It took another five minutes and a slight altercation to collect the extra 30 rupees from that poor man, who wore seven gold rings round his fingers and many gold chains around his neck.
Ajit was driving aimlessly in the general direction of Bandra railway station, in the hope of picking up a long-distance trip when his cellphone rang. He took out the phone from his pocket - the phone that Chandrakant had sold to Ajit for 500 rupees, when he had bought a new, expensive one.

Chandrakant was his boss, the owner of this car. He met him through another Keralite taxi driver who used to drive this car. When he bought a second-hand car, he had introduced Ajit to Chandrakant. The deal was to pay Rs.3000 a month as rent. He had to take care of petrol and maintenance and had to return the car everyday to Chandrakant.

He saw the caller ID and saw his boss’ name on the monochrome screen. A foreboding feeling dawned upon him, since he knew why Chandrakant was calling.

“Hello Bhai” (Hello Brother)

“Where are you now?”

“I am near Bandra Railway Station”

“I was in a hurry in the morning, so could not ask you this. Where is the money?”

“Bhai, I….. I…” Ajit stuttered.

“You know I am very particular about financial dealings? Every month 20th is your day. Last month also you gave half the money. I said Ok. Now what?”

“Bhai, the car had to be repaired for a gear box problem. So I lost a lot of money in that. I’ll pay within a week”

“Within a week? I’ll return from Kolhapur day after tomorrow. I want the money then, or the car will rest at my garage, and you, in a hospital”

“I’ll pay bhai. I’ll pay”

“You better pay.” The line went dead.

“Beautiful start to the day” Ajit cursed under his breath. Chandrakant meant business. He was the local goon. If he had threatened to break a leg, you could be sure of that, plus a rib or two as a bonus.

He picked up another fare from Holy Family hospital stop. This one was a neatly dressed old man, who resembled Sunil Dutt, the yesteryears hero of Bollywood. He wanted to go to the Taj, Land’s End Hotel. Ajit put on the meter and drove towards the hotel.

“How am I going to pay Chandrakanth?” Ajit asked himself. “This month the due has become 4500 Rs., If I drive day and night for the next two days, maybe, if really lucky, a 1000 could be managed… the rest?”

He was still pondering the current problem when he reached the hotel. The passenger paid him off without any fuss. As the old man was getting out from the car, Ajit heard a voice calling.

“Taxi!”

Ajit turned his head to see a man coming out of the hotel lobby.

“This may be my lucky day, I guess.” He smiled inwardly. “If this is the trend, I could make that 1000 today itself. God is not that cruel after all. He knows this is the only livelihood I possess, and he may be kind enough to let me make a few quick bucks by which I can silence Chandrakanth. At least for a month” , mused Ajit.

The man opened the backdoor and got into the taxi. Ajit put the vehicle in motion and waited for his fare to announce the destination. He took to the main road from the hotel driveway. Still no word from the man. Fortunately, as the hotel’s name suggests, it is situated on a dead end of the road. The other side was the ocean. So he kept driving for a couple of minutes more, while studying the man in the rear-view mirror. He must be in his early or mid-sixties, Ajit estimated. He could only see the man’s face. It looked familiar. Thousands of faces travelled in this taxi. This face may belong to anyone of them, he reasoned. But no! This face looks familiar by every passing minute. “Where have I seen him? Damn it! As long as he is giving me a good trip, I don’t care.” He tried to pacify his curiosity by this argument and concentrated on driving.

“Kahan jaana hai saab?” Ajit ventured after a few minutes.

“Oh I am sorry. I forgot to tell you. Airport” the fair replied in a deep baritone.

“Kaunsa Airport sir? Sahar or Santacruz?” Sahar was the International Airport and Santa Cruz was the Domestic one. Santa Cruz was near by, whereas Sahar would fetch him a good amount.

“Sahar Airport.” The fair replied.

“This indeed is a good day. Sahar Airport will fetch around 400 Rupees. After all the day is not that bad.” Ajit thought while negotiating a sharp curve.

Suddenly a malayalam Christian Prayer song rang out in the Car. Ajit was aghast for a minute since the music was so loud and sudden. It was the man’s cellphone.

“Hello, Susan, Njan Airport le povukayanu.” The man answered his phone in malayalam.

Now Ajit was completely scared. The man was speaking Malayalam. He was a Keralite. It had been fifteen years since Ajit had left Kerala, but still he got that shiver down his spine whenever he saw his fellow natives or heard anything in malayalam. The fear that someone would recognize him.

“Illa. Njan correct time ne ethum. Mol vannittu njan angottu vilikam. Ok?” (No, I will reach in time. Once daughter comes out, I’ll call you back). The man spoke into his phone and hung up.
So he is going to pick his daughter who is coming from god-knows-where. Ajit thought. Now he studied the face in the rear-view mirror more closely. The nagging feeling about the familiarity is starting to annoy him. This face is really very familiar. The man had thick eyebrows and a long scar running just next to his left eyebrow.

Nooooo! His mind screamed as he braked hard. The car screeched to a halt in the middle of the road. There was a miffed thud from the back as the vehicle right behind his car just collided with his.

“This is Raju Achayan. Nisha’s father!” Ajit’s mind screamed. (In Malayalam, Achayan is a word used to address elders in the Christian community)

The honking from behind was unbearable. Ajit did not even bother to check whether anything was broken. He pulled over the car to the side.

“What happened?” The man asked from the backseat. It was obvious that he was surprised at this sudden halt.

Ajit did not bother to answer as he got down from the car to examine the damage. He needed to catch his breath. The long scar. The thick, bushy eyebrows. The booming voice. Oh God! Why now?
As Ajit bent down near the broken indicator as if to check the damage, he pondered his next move. He could not let this man identify him. The shame, the humiliation, the pain, it was all too much to bear once again. He heard the door opening and the next moment Raju was standing next to him.

“Oh, Nothing serious, I guess” Raju commented.

Ajit was perplexed as to what to do next. His mind screamed for him to run. To run away from this man. To run away from his shameful past. He wanted to die then and there. The feeling of thousands of creepy insects crawling over his body was overwhelming. It was apparent that Raju could not speak Hindi. All along he was speaking English only. So there was every chance that he did not recognize him. They would never expect Ajit to be in this situation.

In the broken steel ring around the indicator, he saw his image. An awkwardly bulged, but a clear image. A dark face, with circles around the eyes. The eyes peered out from two deep sockets. The beard was thin, and grey. No way could they trace this face back to fifteen years. Ajit got some of his confidence back.

“Zyada kuch nahi saab” He answered in Hindi, deliberately putting on a UP accent.
“So you understand English. Can you tell me why you stopped the car? I mean I could not see anything on the road. No hump, nobody crossed, nothing of that sort.” There was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s because of you” Ajit whispered to himself. Then turning to Raju, he said loudly in Hindi.

“I thought I saw a cat crossing the road.”

“For a minute I thought, I was going to fly out through your front glass” Raju laughed hysterically as if trying to shake off the sudden incident from his mind. Ajit did not think it was important to respond to that. He was busy calculating the next move in his mind. If he let Raju travel in his car, there might be a chance that he will identify some traits of his old self. But the money on offer was simply irresistible. He could even charge five hundred rupees and Raju wouldn’t mind. The tug-of-war did not last long. The booming voice once again woke him up from his thoughts.

“Come on driver, I had to reach the airport before 12:15. Let’s move”

“Ok Sir” he answered and got into the vehicle. He had made up his mind. If he is careful, there is no way Raju could identify him. He could charge him 500 Rs. with a little more luck; he could save something which would keep Chandrakant silent for another week or so.