Mumbai Noir (30 page)

The blue blob on the teeth of the key.

“Then he would get duplicates cut,” Jende continued.

“The keywalla outside.”

“Haan. He was part of it.”

“Picked him up?”

“Like in the films
Faraar
and
Nau do gyarah
. When the first cops came only.”

“Involved?”

“Something they must have given him. He must have known. How many keys people can lose?”

Peter thought about that. “Then the two of them would rob the house?”

“No, only Vishal. Only this time, that woman Madhavi came back. She found him there and began screaming. He hit her to shut her up. Hit her too hard. Broke her neck. Then he went back home and told Kalsekar. Kalsekar told him to run away, to go to his gaon. Vishal didn’t. He went to the station and then came back to the gym.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“The maal. The loot. He wanted his share of what they had taken from Madhavi’s house. He told Kalsekar that.”

Peter was still a little confused. “That upset the old man so much that he picked up a dumbbell and beat the boy to death?”

“No, worse. Vishal said he was going to the police. He said he was going to tell them that Kalsekar had done it all. He told Kalsekar he had left Kalsekar’s fingerprint back at Madhavi’s house.”

“That’s not possible … is it?”

Jende grinned, a rare occurrence. “See, even you don’t know. You’re not sure if your fingerprints can turn up in someone else’s house. Kalsekar believed Vishal. That was the problem. That was what killed Vishal. That Kalsekar believed him.”

“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

“Waah waah.”

“Not me, Pope.”

“You Catholics bring your pope into everything. Do you know where we found him?”

“The pope?”

“Why we’ll be looking for your pope? Where we found Kalsekar.”

“Where?” Peter braced himself. Surely not another dead body? Things come in threes …

“In the market. Apna Gopi Tank Market. He was trying to get one of the kassais to cut off his fingertips.”

Peter looked carefully at his friend. He couldn’t be sure whether this was a joke or not, but Jende had his police face on. “You’re giving me some daaru-shaaru or no?” Peter took out his bottle of Royal Challenge.

“Chhee. RC still?” Jende protested.

“I am one.”

“You are a Royal Challenge?”

“Jay, your brains have gone on bandobast or what? I’m a Roman Catholic, RC. Royal Challenge, RC? Got it?”

“Anything you’ll say to save money. Cheapda,” said Jende, but he seemed to relish the first fiery swig.

“Besides,” said Peter, “you might arrest me if I serve you Black Label.”

GLOSSARY

The following glossary provides simple explanations of select (though by no means all) Indian terms used in
Mumbai Noir.
These words come from Hindi, Urdu, Maharathi, Punjabi, and Gujarati.

Abba/Abbu
: father

Abbe
: friendly, informal word to refer to a man

Accha
: okay; good

Adaab
: a Muslim greeting

Adda
: a group hangout

Adhan
: Islamic call to prayer

Adrak
: ginger

Ammi
: mother

Arrey
: hey

Baba
: father; older man; holy man

Baccha
: child

Bakr’a Eid
: the second Eid holiday when goats are sacrificed

Banda
: colloquial term for a man

Bandobast
: arrangement

Baniya
: trader; shopkeeper

Bhabhi
: sister-in-law (brother’s wife)

Bhai
: brother; gangster (colloquial)

Bhen
: sister

Bhenchod
: sisterfucker

Bhuna-gosht
: roasted meat

Biryani
: a rice dish which usually contains meat and saffron

Boondi
: small fried chickpea flour balls

Bun maska
: a Parsi snack consisting of a roll and butter

Chal hutt
: get out of the way

Challan
: ticket from the police

Champi
: head massage

Chana daal
: split chickpea lentils

Chawl
: tenement house

Chela
: disciple

Chikna
/
Chikni
: smooth; greasy

Chowki
: police station

Churidar
: tight pajama bottom

Chutiya
: a pussy chaser; a moron; a loser

Crore
: ten million

Daal
: curried lentils

Daaru
: alcoholic drinks

Dabba
: box

Dawakhana
: pharmacy

Dhobi
: washerman

Dhoti
: traditional sarong for men

Djibba
: Muslim attire worn by men

Dupatta
: a long scarf women wear with a salwaar kameez

Durgah
: a Muslim saint’s shrine or tomb

Faltu
: extra; useless

Firang
: foreigner (slang, slightly derogatory)

Gali
: small street; alleyway

Gaon
: village

Gayatri Mantra
: Hindu prayer

Ghagra
: a long, flowing skirt

Gharana
: household

Ghat
: riverbank

Ghungroos
: small bells, usually attached to anklets

Goonga
: a mute person

Gori
: a white girl

Guthkha
: an intoxicant made of tobacco, betel nut, and other spices

Haan
: yes; also can mean “what” when used interrogatively

Hafta
: a week; weekly protection money paid to police or gangsters

Hakim
: indigenous doctor

Halkat
: a mean person; a person without any values

Handi
: a cooking vessel made out of clay

Haramzadi
: a female born of unwed parents; a disgraced woman (colloquial)

Havaldar
: policeman

Hijra
: a transgender person

Hisaab
: account

IAS
: Indian Administrative Service

Ittar
: natural perfume

Jab
: when

Jalsa
: festivity

Janta
: the public; the people

Jehennum
: hell

Ji
: respectful suffix meaning “sir”

Kaajal
: traditional eyeliner

Kaalia
: black

Kasaai
: butcher

Kathak
: traditional classical dance

Khala
: mother’s sister; aunty (colloquial)

Khandvi
: a snack made out of gram flour and yogurt

Kholi
: small apartment; hut

Kolhapuri
: traditional sandal

Kundan
: purified gold

Kurta
: a loose shirt

Kurti
: a contemporary, casual, and shorter version of a kurta

Lathi
: a stick

Lakh
: one hundred thousand

Lehenga
: long, flowing skirt

Maadherchod
: motherfucker

Maal
: stuff; goods

Maharaj
: specialized cook; chef

Maibaap
: parent

Mandir
: temple

Marathi
: the language of Maharashtra

Marega
: you’ll kill

Marg
: street

Masjid
: mosque

Mata
: mother

Mausam Hai Ashiqana
: a romantic atmosphere (song title)

Mera
: mine

Mere liye bas
: I’ve had enough

Muezzin
: the person who leads the call to prayer at a mosque

Mujra
: a form of dance originated by Mughal courtesans

Nakli
: not real; counterfeit; false

Nan khatai
: a biscuit

Naqaab
: a mask

Neem
: a type of tree

Paan
: betel nut

Paanwalla
: a person who sells paan

Pathsala
: school

Pav
: a traditional Bombay fast food dish served with a bun

Pooch-taach
: inquiry; investigation

Qurbani
: sacrifice

Raita
: spiced and garnished yogurt

Rehmat
: mercy

Saab/Sahib
: a superior; during colonial times, a white man

Salwar
: baggy pants

Sandaas
: toilet; latrine

Senti
: sentimental

Shaukeen
: a connoisseur

Surya namaskar
: in yoga, a sun salutation

Tamasha
: a show; a dramatic event

Tapri
: a type of local tea

Tel
: oil

Tera
: yours

Thaana/Thaane
: Police station

Thepla
: a savory pancake

Undhiyo
: a savory vegetarian dish

Upma
: south Indian breakfast dish

Urs
: a Muslim holiday

Uske liye
: for him or her

Ya
: or

Yaar
: friend; dude; man

Yatra
: journey

Zindagi imtihaan leti hai
: life gives you tests

ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS

A
HMED
B
UNGLOWALA
is the creator of the cult Indian private eye Shorty Gomes—short, sardonic, and at times exasperating.
The Days and Nights of Shorty Gomes
was published by Rupa & Co. in 1993. Ahmed grew up in Mumbai’s Nagpada and studied at St. Xavier’s College at Dhobi Talao. He later moved to Pune to take up a corporate job as a spin doctor. He now lives in Goa with his wife and three dogs.

N
AMITA
D
EVIDAYAL
wrote the award-winning memoir
The Music Room
and the best-selling novel
Aftertaste
. She is a writer with the
Times of India
and has covered a wide range of subjects, from being a “yummy mummy” to music to personal finance. She graduated from Princeton University with a degree in politics. Devidayal lives in Mumbai.

S
ONIA
F
ALEIRO
is a San Francisco–based award-winning reporter and writer. Her nonfiction narrative,
Beautiful Thing: Inside the Secret World of Bombay’s Dance Bars,
has been published worldwide and translated into several languages. For more information, visit
www.soniafaleiro.com
.

S
MITA
H
ARISH
J
AIN
grew up in Mumbai and, despite having twenty-three addresses since leaving, still considers it home. Her earliest recollection of the city is of ragged beggar boys playing cricket under a canopy of neem trees. After publishing a number of short stories, she is working on her first novel, also set in Mumbai.

D
EVASHISH
M
AKHIJA
spends his life driven to manic curiosity about little things (such as why the butterfly is not called the more befitting “flutter-by”). To distract himself from such insomnia-inducing questions, he tells stories, writes screenplays, makes films and graphic art, scribbles poems, stands on his head each morning, and sings songs to the Mumbai pigeons each night. His alter ego resides at
www.nakedindianfakir.com
.

R
IAZ
M
ULLA
was born in Mumbai in 1969. He is a trained electrical engineer, and has worked in the power and IT industries. He is currently in the education field, leading the Mumbai training division at Tech Mahindra, one of India’s leading IT firms. He is married with a son and a daughter. “Justice” is his first published fiction.

J
ERRY
P
INTO
lives and works in Mumbai. He is the author of several books and is executive secretary of MelJol, a nongovernmental organization that advocates for the rights of children.

R. R
AJ
R
AO
calls himself a queer writer, not because much of his work explores the theme of homosexual love in a way that no Indian writer has done before, but because his overall literary output is queer—he has written and published poetry, plays, short stories, novels, and a biography. His latest novel is
Hostel Room 131
, while his forthcoming novel is entitled
Lady Lolita’s Lover
.

A
VTAR
S
INGH
spent seven years in Mumbai and two more in Goa before returning to Delhi. His last job was as editor of
Time Out Delhi
. His novel,
The Beauty of These Present Things
, which is set in Mumbai, is available from Penguin India. He lives in Delhi with his wife, son, and singing dog.

K
ALPANA
S
WAMINATHAN
and
I
SHRAT
S
YED
are surgeons and they write together as
K
ALPISH
R
ATNA
. Swaminathan also writes under her own name; her anthology
Venus Crossing
won the 2009 Vodafone Crossword Award for Fiction. Her most recent novel is
I Never Knew It Was You
. She lives in Mumbai.