Mumbaistan (19 page)

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Authors: Piyush Jha

BOOK: Mumbaistan
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Finally he composed himself and took a tentative step to cross the highway. The throaty protest from a passing truck sent him scurrying back to the safety of the edge of the road.

Fearing that he would be run over, he gave up his attempt to cross, and started walking along the highway without knowing where he was going. Still in his patient's uniform pyjama and half-shirt, walking bare foot, he was quite a sight. But to his surprise, no one paid him any attention as they drove past like speed bullets.

A loud, hollow honk just behind him made him jump. An air-conditioned BEST bus, emblazoned with advertisements for a fairness cream, brushed past him. Instinctively, he jumped aside, straight towards a bush lining the highway. Not being able to control his balance, he fell. The bush broke his fall. Luckily for him, it was not thorny and was able to cushion him from getting hurt. He straightened up to see that the bus had stopped by the side of the road, a little ahead of him. The bus conductor was leaning out, looking at him. Samir quickened his pace, trying to reach the bus. The conductor threw a disgusted glance at him and walked back into the bus. The automatic doors closed and the bus starting moving.

A surprised Samir broke into a run and, with some effort, was able to grab the back door handle and haul himself on the footboard. But instead of stopping, the bus gathered more speed. Samir frantically banged on the plexi-glass door of the bus. The passengers sitting inside took their noses out of their newspapers and looked at him and threw quizzical glances at each other. The bus stopped with a jerk Samir almost fell off, but somehow managed to keep clinging on. The angry bus conductor gestured to him to get off. But Samir persisted. 'Let me in. Let me in,' he begged. Finally, with an exasperated gesture, the conductor signalled to the driver to close the door. With a loud 'whoosh' the door that Samir was clinging on to started swinging to the side. Samir was swept off his feet by the hydraulic strength of the door's opening mechanism, and he lost his balance and fell on the roadside, landing on his back. The bus doors shut unceremoniously and the bus started its onward journey. Samir stared silently at it. The conductor shrugged, raised his right forefinger to his temple and twisted it. 'Pagal,' he said.

The passengers nodded, exchanging knowing smiles and resumed reading their newspapers.


The Glock was doing its job. Madhukar Bhonsale and the CMO were scared out of their wits. Raghu Nadar had stormed into the Bhonsale Medical Trust Hospital half an hour ago and demanded to meet the doctor in charge. Unfortunately, the doctor in charge had had no clue of what had happened and flatly denied any knowledge of a coma patient. Samir Khanna's presence in the hospital was a fact known only to a handful of employees. But when Raghu had raised his voice a few decibels, the doctor had scurried to the CMO's office and summoned him to face Raghu's wrath. The CMO, in turn, had quickly placed a call to Madhukar and requested his presence to face the irate municipal councillor who was threatening to introduce a motion to close down the hospital in the next session of the municipal council.

Madhukar, at first, tried to lie through his teeth about Samir, but when he discovered that Raghu had the details of his drunken phone call to the police station, he had no option but to own up. And when Raghu drew out the Glock and kept it on the table in front of him, Madhukar's tongue gave up its reluctance and rattled off the full story of Samir's long stay at the hospital, every minute development included.

As Madhukar concluded his story, Raghu's face grew grim. Madhukar and the CMO watched as he picked up the Glock, 'Now, tell me, what is this Samir Khanna's current situation? Is he is absolutely fine, out of danger?' Raghu asked, brandishing the gun with just enough menace to cause a large
lump of fear
to mushroom in their chest.

A creature of habit, the CMO assumed his practised doctor's tone, 'Well, Coma Man...uh...Samir's case, is unique. As yet, medical science has encountered only a few cases of people who have recovered fully after such a prolonged coma. Then, too, not many have regained motor functions to the extent that Samir has. A kind of freak energy is keeping him going, but then again his limbs have not been used for many years. They are bound to give away soon...' The CMO stopped mid-sentence. Raghu's Glock was a few inches away from his face.

'Doctor, I am not interested in a lecture,' Raghu hissed. 'I am simply asking, will he be able to remember events from the past or not?'

The CMO dabbed the sweat on his brow with a handkerchief. 'He is just recovering and as yet, he has not fully regained his memory.'

'What can be done to help Samir Khanna regain his memory fully?' Raghu asked.

'Sometimes, if the patient undergoes a harrowing or scary experience, it triggers a memory recovery. But he might get confused between his real memories and what he may be told. So, it's best to let him recover at his own pace.'

'Now one last thing... Where did he go?'

The CMO seemed clueless, but Madhukar quickly intervened. 'The nurse who was tending to him said that he went out towards the back gate, which means that he could have gone towards the highway. That's all we know.'

Raghu hissed, 'It will be best if you keep your mouths shut about the whole thing.' The implication of the municipal councillor's thinly-veiled threat was not lost on either Madhukar or the CMO, as he stormed out of the room.


The sleek Japanese motorbike weaved its way through the traffic snarl on the highway. The besotted young couple astride the motorbike were lost to the world, and were attracting the attention of others on the highway. The lovelorn girl on the backseat, clad in a diaphanous T-shirt and denim shorts, had her breasts squashed against the rider's back and her arms firmly linked across his muscular bare chest. She was whispering something in his ear that made him grin. As he swerved between the vehicles, he arched his back, as if to derive maximum pleasure from the girl's body.

Samir Khanna stood on one side of the highway snarl, near the junction of Uran Road and the Sion-Panvel Highway, watching the couple on the motorbike. The rising heat of the morning and the barefoot walk along the highway had finally got to him, and he had stopped to catch his breath. A faint memory entered his mind. Although his eyes seemed to be looking at the young lovers, his mind was travelling into an inner space that had been locked away for a long time.


'Faster!' Bahaar shouted, flushed with excitement. Her eyes had that familiar twinkle Samir found so endearing. They were on their way to Goa in their brand-new Mercedes 500E. The car was winding its way slowly along the coastal road, but Bahaar wasn't happy. She was pestering Samir to speed up. She had the windows down and was craning her neck out to catch the wind on her face. She giggled, like a teenager sharing a naughty joke with a friend. 'Keep your head in. It's dangerous,' Samir cautioned.

Bahaar looked at Samir. The colour on her cheeks was the rosy flush he normally noticed during the first moments of sexual excitement. 'I love danger,' she whispered, reaching for the seam of her T-shirt. In one smooth movement, she peeled it off her body. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. He felt the first stirs of excitement.

She gestured to him to keep his eyes on the road as she slid towards him. Samir complied. Bahaar splayed a leg across his lap and Samir's grip on the steering wheel loosened. She slid into the space between the steering wheel and Samir's body, and faced him as she straddled his lap; her naked breasts pressed against his face.

For a few seconds, Samir couldn't see the road. He panicked. But Bahaar arched her body at an angle that allowed him to keep his eyes on the road. She stroked his hair with her soft fingers. He was finding it tough to focus on the road. Then she repeated the one word Samir was dreading: 'Faster!' He pressed his foot on the pedal and the Mercedes roared. The jerk made Bahaar's body arch forward. Her breasts were in Samir's face as he tried valiantly to keep driving. Finally, he succumbed to her offer, somehow managing to keep the vehicle going simlutaneously. God was smiling on them that day, as the Mercedes ate away the kilometres without meeting any accidents, allowing the lovers to reach the heights of ecstasy.


The abrasive honk from a vehicle snapped Samir out of his reverie. He found himself still standing at the junction where the traffic had eased up a little bit.

The horn now almost blared into his eardrums. Samir swivelled and saw a white SUV parked beside him. He stepped backwards to get out of its path. But the front window on the driver's side slid down, and a gust of air-conditioned breeze wafted towards him. A dark-complexioned young man leaned out of the window and gestured towards the passenger seat.

Samir didn't think twice. His feet were hurting from the scorching sun and the effort of his walk. He slid into the passenger seat.

Samir was uncertain how to open a conversation with the man behind the wheel.

'Where are you going?' asked the man.

Samir realized that he didn't really have an answer to the question. He blurted out the only reply he could muster up, 'I'm going to my wife.'

'Where is your wife?'

'I don't know.'

'So you don't know where you are going?'

'Yes,' Samir gave in. 'She must be out there somewhere...'

The young man gave him a long look. Samir squirmed in his seat, a little uncomfortable with the direct gaze upon him. He wondered why the man was taking such a keen interest in him. The man continued to look into his eyes, as if searching for something lost in there.

For a while, they drove in silence. Samir's gaze wandered out of the moving SUV, and for the first time, he noticed that they had veered off the highway into a small, bush-lined byroad. The road seemed to be going up a hill, and sure enough, after a few hundred yards, he saw a sign that said 'Parsik Hill Road'. But then again, the SUV swerved off this road into what seemed like a nature trail. Soon, all signs of civilization disappeared and they were on a narrow path that led into a densely forested area. Samir turned to look at the young man, who was concentrating on the track ahead. Samir leaned back against the seat and wondered where they were headed.

Soon, the vegetation on the sides of the track became dense and dark, and the track opened into a small clearing. All of a sudden, the man braked and the SUV jerked to a halt. Without a word, he got out of the vehicle. Samir kept sitting, wondering what would happen next, till he noticed that the man was at his door. The man then opened the door and yanked Samir out of the SUV, pulling him by the collar. Samir fell on the muddy ground. Before he could react, he was dragged by the man to a clearing. The man then pointed a pistol at the shocked Samir and said, 'My name is Raghu Nadar, and I am the son of Selvaraj.'

An uncomprehending Samir stared at Raghu's grim face.

'Selvaraj...N. Selvaraj...you don't remember him?' Raghu's voice was raised now. Samir shook his head, his face was blank. Raghu rested the nose of the pistol on Samir's temple and tightened his grip on the weapon. Samir shivered.

'Tell me what happened that night?' Raghu snarled.

Samir's confusion increased. 'Which night?' he timidly asked. Raghu seemed infuriated at the question. He walked a few steps away and let out a scream of frustration. Samir started to scramble to his feet.

'Stay down!' Raghu barked.

Samir obeyed. Raghu again searched Samir's face. But Samir simply stared back with empty eyes.

'You really don't remember anything, do you?' said Raghu.

'I remember my name, and my wife's name and face. Today, 15 June, is her birthday. We live in a cottage somewhere between some tall buildings. I have a Mercedes 500E. That's all,' Samir said robotically.

Raghu walked a little distance away from Samir. This time, Samir made no attempt to get up.

Raghu stared at the trees in front of him. He was lost in thought over what Madhukar and the CMO had told him. So it is true, he thought. Samir, obviously, doesn't remember much.

But Raghu did take heart at the fact that Samir remembered a few details. He wondered if more memories would come back to him. He debated whether to show the old newspaper cutting to Samir, but then decided against it. He once again mulled over Madhukar and the CMO's conversation with him. Samir wouldn't have known what the newspapers had said. And even if he was shown the newspaper report, he might just play back what was written in the report as his memory, without attempting to remember what had actually transpired that day. But Raghu wanted the whole undiluted truth. And fast.

He pulled out his mobile and called a number as he walked a short distance away from Samir. 'I need a favour,' he spoke to the person on the other end in hushed tones.

Samir glanced in Raghu's direction. Raghu's voice drifted towards him in snatches; it looked like he was speaking to someone. Samir's eyes swiftly scanned his surroundings. He felt confused. He couldn't see anyone around, so who was Raghu talking to? It was clear that Raghu was disturbed by Samir's lack of memory. But who was he? Why did he have a gun? Was he some sort of criminal, a gangster? Samir wondered whether he himself had been involved in some sort of criminal activity in the past. He shivered at the thought.

Raghu finished his conversation and walked back towards Samir. The pistol was now tucked away in his pocket. 'C'mon, Uncle Sam. We have to go,' he said.

Samir felt uneasy all of a sudden; thoughts swirled in his head. 'That name...' he muttered under his breath. He tried reaching into the recesses of his mind, but shook his head when he drew a blank. Raghu shrugged and led Samir silently back to the SUV. He made Samir sit on the passenger's seat and then began the journey back down the dirt track.


The sun started to beat down on Samir as he walked along a long empty stretch of Palm Beach Road, Navi Mumbai. He wondered where and what was in store for him ahead.

He had been dropped off along the six-lane road by a grim-faced Raghu. While Raghu had ignored him throughout their return journey downhill, Samir had observed Raghu with unabashed fascination as he spent the better part of the ride speaking on a mini-cordless instrument through a small device attached to his ear.

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