Forsaken - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“These fellows are all weird” Raju said to himself. He had made deliberate attempts to make conversation with his driver few times. But the response was not very encouraging. Whenever Raju was travelling outside his native place, he was a little apprehensive. He thought of all these shopkeepers and taxi drivers as people with devious minds, out to cheat whoever they identified as an outsider. So in order to make them a little conscientious, he always tried to make friends with them. But this fellow was very aloof, resisting all his friendly gestures with his evasive silence.

“He is so peculiar. He doesn’t look like an UPite, people who hail from Uttar Pradesh. Despite his accent, he looks like a south Indian.” Somewhere from his demeanor, Raju could sense a south Indian trait. Since he travelled a lot around India in his business days, he had seen and interacted with people from almost all the states. The way this guy pronounced ‘R’ in Hindi, was not the way people from UP or Bihar pronounce it, they said it as ‘D’. He once again tried to make small talk, just to kill time.

“So is this your own car?.” He knew most of the cabbies didn’t own their cars, but would use it on hire.

“Ji Nahi” (No sir). There he goes again. The H is very silent in that word. He pronounced it like “Nai.” UPites always pronounce ‘H’ with high emphasis.

Raju decided to play a game.

“Have you ever been to South India?”

“Nahi”

“Where are you from basically?”

“Sir, I would like to concentrate on driving rather than talking and invite an accident” The driver retorted in Hindi.

So he doesn’t want to talk. Raju tried to kill time by studying his driver. As he could see from the back seat, the driver had a suggestion of a beard. Like he hadn’t shaved for about two weeks. He looked so frail and vulnerable. Raju checked his watch. It was ten past ten in the morning, like they showed it in watch advertisements. The weather had changed from cool December morning to a warm mid-morning and the driver was perspiring. A streak of sweat ran down his cheek, which he brushed away with his left hand.

They passed Vile Parle and were about to turn to the Swami Narayan Temple junction. All of a sudden the traffic came to a halt and Raju could see the road was completely blocked. At the beginning of the block, he could see one wheel barrow lying on the road and its luggage, huge gunny bags, disengaged from the bound and scattered around the road. Many people were crowding around the pavement.

“What happened sir?”

Raju asked a passer-by who was just now chased away from the scene by a lone constable who was unsuccessfully trying to dissipate the crowd.

“Accident. Teen ladkiyon ko ek carwallah maar diya” (Three girls were run over by a car) he answered and started to move. Then he stopped once again to explain a little more.

“The car came from the other side and hit this wheel barrow and spun to the sidewalk where these girls were walking. It dragged all the three for about 50 meters. Those guys ran away. Rascals!” with a satisfied smile that he has discharged his civic duties, he joined the crowd who was standing on the opposite sidewalk, just to observe.

“Oh my God! People are witnessing a horrible accident-scene and passing by as if nothing has happened?” Raju exclaimed.

“This is Mumbai, Sir” Ajit stated matter-of-factly, in Hindi “Here we see death, be it by accident or murder, every passing hour. You know, every day at least ten people die from local train accidents, right in front of many people. Gangsters kill for money and revenge. We are kind of used to it now and shrug of these incidents as if they had never happened.”

“But this is disgusting. I mean people don’t have any emotions?”

“If you show compassion, try to help them and in case the victim dies on the way to hospital, you will be harassed by the police or will be spending the next two to three years in the courts as a witness. Anyway who has time for all these? Everybody is busy”

“Jesus Christ! If they are alive, can’t they be saved?”

“That’s the duty of the police. They will come and get them to a hospital.”

“You guys are cold-blooded. No sympathy towards a human life.” Raju was shaking visibly. He could not stand the thought of three young girls, lying in a pool of blood, pleading silently to those deaf ears, to save their lives.

“Shall we take them to the nearest hospital? If you help me, we can get them to the hospital”

“Sir, you came to receive your daughter. Do it, mind your business only” Damn it! Ajit suddenly bit his tongue. He knew he made a big mistake.

“Hey how do you know that I am going to receive my daughter?” Raju questioned.

Ajit searched for an answer. None came to mind.

Raju was eying him suspiciously. He knew it. He could feel those big eyes sizing him up.

“I know a little bit of malayalam. I heard you speak on the phone” Ajit tried without much conviction.

“How do you know malayalam? I mean you said you have never been to Kerala.” Raju was not leaving it at that.

“I have few Keralite friends. I learned from them”

Fortunately, Raju did not pursue the issue. As they waited, they heard the wailing siren of an ambulance.

“Ok. I think the traffic will move now. Ambulance is on its way”

Within few minutes the police had cleared the road. He put the car in motion and eased into the highway.

They passed Andheri without any further incidents.

“Could you do me a favour?” Raju asked in Malayalam.

“What?” His response was in Hindi.

“Could you wait until she comes out and pick us back to the hotel?”

Ajit hesitated. So far he was lucky despite his slip-up. His luck may not last long. Moreover Nisha in the car. That thought horrified him. Even if Raju recognized him, he could stand it. But Nisha, he could not allow her to see him in that condition. The visible signs of poverty, the dirty, worn out clothes and above all, the humiliation. He could not face her.

Then another thought occurred to him. If he has any resemblance of his old self, Raju could have recognized him. The struggle of fifteen years has made him un-recognizable. It was like being hidden behind an invisible curtain. They could see his silhouette, but never recognize the man behind it, like in a shadow-play. Time and the struggle had erased the last traceable link from him. Ajit started to gain his confidence and thought about the money in offer. He could charge them a thousand. Or maybe a thousand five hundred. Plus a last chance to see Nisha once more.
The voice of Dr. Kulkarni from Bandra Govt. Hospital rang out in his ear.

“You have to get admitted in the hospital right away Ajit. The growth is spreading. Stop drinking and smoking and get admitted as soon as possible. We may not have much time.”

But he could not stop drinking. If he did not drink, he could not sleep. The ghosts of the past would haunt him for hours in the night. May be this is a God-sent opportunity to see Nisha, who was once his life.

“Okay, but you will have to pay for the waiting time and return trip.”

“No problem”

The thought of seeing Nisha has pepped him up since he has made up his mind. He wouldn’t face her. Ajit promised himself that he will take extra care in not showing his face to her. He felt more comfortable now than when he had started the trip. “My Nisha! After all these years, I get to see her once more. How would she look like?” He remembered her as a lean, fair fifteen year old girl. Now she would be in her thirties. Even after all these years, that one face never faded in his memory. Every day and night, he thought of her, thought of the dreams they once had. The pure bliss he experienced whenever he saw her, the dimpled smile and the long wavy hair that gave him reason to live for.

As always, two tears rolled down his cheeks at the thought of Nisha. Of late, he wasn’t thinking about her very often. Ever since he learned of his illness, he was somewhat pre-occupied with it. He was scared. What lay in store for him? How would be the last days and where he would spend it? The cancer has spread its tentacles to his liver and kidneys. Every day when he would go to sleep in his drunken stupor, he thought it was his last day. The painkillers were numbing the pain, easing a little bit but not killing it completely.

The Doctor suggested that he get himself admitted in the Government-run medical college, where he could get treatment free of cost. But still it would require a lot of money for medicines and diagnosis. The doctors demand bribes for everything. To avail of the free-treatment, address proof documents were required like ration card or driving licence. The perennial fear of someone from his family or friends finding out ruled him away from furnishing his D/L as proof. And he did not have enough money for the pain killing tablets, let alone the treatment. “So here I am, driving a rented cab, trying to feed myself, and buy the cheap pain killers to cut the days,” he thought to himself. He knew that this could not go on for long and very soon, he had to surrender to his fate. But he would not surrender to cancer, bearing all the pain. He was determined that at the first sign of unbearability, he would end his life. And he only knew too well, that the day was not very far.

“Nisha, here I come, to see you for the last time,” he said to himself and accelerated.