Mumbaistan (11 page)

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Authors: Piyush Jha

BOOK: Mumbaistan
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Saakshi sighed. 'What do you want me to do now?'

'Hand me over to the police.' Porus's voice was calm. He popped a small gum-bubble.

Without warning, Saakshi turned and gave him a slap across his face. Tears sprung from her eyes. 'Do you want me to lose another man I love?'

She fell into his arms and they made love again. This time, the heat of their conflicted passion almost scorched the paint off the walls. Afterwards, they lay silent, staring at the high ceiling, watching the fan rotate at snail's pace. Saakshi broke into tears again.

Porus moved to comfort her. But she pushed him away.

'If you think it is you who is going through hell, can you imagine what I am going through?' she sobbed.

Porus whispered, 'Kill me, Saakshi. Once and for all, do away with the sickness that has afflicted your life.'

'The sickness runs too deep, Porus, and you are not the cure for it—I am,' a determined Saakshi said .

'What do you mean?' Porus asked, confused.

But Saakshi refused to elaborate. Instead, she spoke in measured tones. 'Porus, I would like you to leave now, I need some time to think'.

Porus got off the bed and dressed without protest. As he put on his shoes, he glanced at Saakshi. Her eyes were streaming with tears, but her face had frozen into an unreadable mask. For what seemed like eternity, Porus waited for her to say something. But she remained still. Tiring of the silence, he exited the apartment.


 

Operation Organ—Police Get Some Results

 

The Crime Branch arrested 5 people in connection with the Operation Organ case on Tuesday . Two of them are doctors who served under Dr Jetha in his earlier posting in Pune and the other three are believed to be agents who would identify potential victims and establish contact with them. In a press conference today, the Crime Branch officials said that the accused broke down after interrogation and revealed certain startling facts. The agents were employed by Dr Jetha to go out into the community and find potential donors. These agents, too, had sold their kidneys to the doctor. Migrant labourers, drawn to Mumbai from villages looking for work, were lured by these agents and taken to Dr Jetha with promises of employment, after which they were allegedly brainwashed into selling their kidneys. They were paid
50,000 for their organs, which were sold for 10 times the price to Jetha's rich clients. Meanwhile, the police have made no headway into the investigation of Jetha's death. They suspect that it is the handiwork of a disgruntled member of the deceased doctor's network. 'Investigations are still on, and we will be making an announcement soon,' said an inspector on condition of anonymity.


Saakshi sat by a large open window. Only now was she beginning to feel the grief of the sudden departure of her only parent. Like any other good Indian 'daddy's girl', Saakshi had idolized her powerful father and followed in his footsteps. After doing a course in medicine and an internship in the UK, she had come back to Mumbai. On her father's recommendation, she had joined the Johnson Medical College Hospital and quickly had become a popular figure within the small medical community there. Everybody would call her 'Saakshi didi' as she flitted along the corridors, going about her duties. Her highest ambition had been receiving a rare, appreciative smile from her father. For a while, it had seemed to everyone that Saakshi had dedicated herself to being a loyal foot soldier working under her colossus of a father, both of them single-mindedly dedicated to the cause of medicine.

But one fine day, at a medical convention, Saakshi ran into a young, handsome, fair-skinned doctor. And life changed completely. The young man had approached her at the lunch buffet counter and recommended the Andhra Crispy Karela. She had responded with the natural hesitation that everyone harbours towards the bitter vegetable, but out of politeness, she had taken a small helping, intending to leave it uneaten. However, while having lunch, she had caught the eye of the young doctor, who had been sitting diagonally across her. She noticed him looking at the untouched karela on her plate. A little embarrassed, she quickly ate a few pieces. To her surprise, she had found the dish to be quite tasty. When she had looked up again at the young doctor, he was grinning and had an 'I-told-you-so' expression. Saakshi returned his smile, blushing like a schoolgirl.

When she had bumped into him again at the dessert counter, she asked him, 'Have I met you before?'

The young doctor had smiled mischievously and said, 'No, but I have a feeling that you are going to meet me a lot in the future.' Saakshi's heart thumped against her chest as she heard his words.

Two weeks later, they slept together for the first time. Five months later, her father discovered the passionate secret affair. Two weeks after that, following a lot of cajoling, she received permission to introduce her Parsi lover, Porus, to her Gujarati father. Both of them had started bonding over a common language and life was just beginning to look perfect when, one week later, unbeknownst to Saakshi, her lover killed her father.


A small knot of young Ukrainian students stood chanting slogans behind the police barricade in the open area opposite Taj Mahal Hotel. Virkar strode up to take the lead position, But the three constables already on duty just nodded at him, throwing him a lazy salute.

A student suddenly shouted, loud enough to be heard above the din, 'You policemen are dogs!'

Virkar's jaw set in a thin line and he looked ready to explode. He placed his hand on his holstered service revolver. Around him, the constables tensed, expecting action. But instead Virkar swivelled around, turning his back on the shouting Ukrainian students. Inside his head, he was cursing his situation, trying to block out the noise.

'How long are you going to take this, Virkar?' was the question he kept asking himself as the Russian foreign minister's entourage approached the hotel. He tried to distract himself and halt the train of dark thoughts.

As soon as the minister's car passed into the portals of the hotel, he turned his attention back to the ragtag bunch of students, who were now shouting throaty expletives, threatening, waving placards, as if challenging him again.

'But, what can I do? I am a dog,' muttered Virkar to himself. His body was still trembling with tension. A grey-haired senior constable saw his agitated state; he strolled up to Virkar and offered him a cigarette. Virkar declined, waving him away.

All of a sudden, from within the crowd, a Coke bottle was flung at the standing policemen. From the corner of his eye, Virkar saw the glass projectile hurtling towards them. Acting on pure instinct, he struck out at the bottle with the wooden riot baton in his hand. The baton connected with the bottle just as it was about to find its mark, the grey-haired constable's bare head. The bottle broke into pieces and fell into the empty space between the protesters and the police, without causing any harm. The policemen raised their batons, awaiting the order to lathi charge.

The senior constable, though shaken, laid a placatory hand on Virkar's arm and whispered, 'jau
diya, saheb
.' Virkar cooled down. He signalled the policemen to step back. The line of students, too, shrank back. By now, most of them had decided they'd had their fill of protesting and they quickly began dispersing.

The constable bent to touch Virkar's feet in grateful servility, 'Thank you for saving my life, saheb.'

Virkar was a little embarrassed. 'It was just sheer luck.'

The constable smiled, 'It was not just luck, it was the hand of God working through you. I am a God-fearing man, saheb. Your Goddess, Ekveera Devi, will not spare me if I don't pay you back in some way.'

Virkar shrugged. The old constable continued to protest. 'You are a good man, Virkar saheb. You are just caught in the wrong situation. I will help you change it.' Virkar looked at him, a little confused. The old constable lowered his voice to a whisper. 'Let me tell you a secret...'


Behind its old iron gate, Cursetjee Castle seemed to stare at Saakshi in its entire stony, lost splendor. Its grandiose name was in sharp contrast to the rather ordinary architecture. Although at first, it had been one large house, the two-storeys now housed four separate apartments, carved out of the single structure. Three belonged to various descendants of the late Mr Darashah Cursetjee, a Parsi gentleman and ex-Indian Civil Service officer, who had served his British masters well enough to be awarded the plot on which Cursetjee Castle currently stood. The descendants, though, like many wealthy Parsi progeny, all lived abroad, and had locked up these apartments, using them more as godowns. The fourth apartment, situated at the back, however, was inhabited.

Saakshi asked her cab to wait as she entered the cavernous entrance of Cursetjee Castle. She walked up the stone stairs, through the dark unlit corridor, to this apartment.

Standing outside the old teakwood doors of the apartment, she took a deep breath and rattled the brass doorknocker under the nameplate 'Dr Porus Udwadia'.

The door opened instantly, giving Saakshi a start. As if Porus had been standing right by the door, awaiting her knock. Porus looked like he had not slept the previous night. He pulled her in without a word and led her in gently by the hand, past the large rooms, generally bare, except for some old, wooden furniture. Inside his bedroom, he sat her down on an old settee. His eyes searched her face, as if trying to read what was in her mind. Saakshi laid her soft hand on his unshaven cheek. Porus relaxed a little. Finally, she broke the silence. 'My father's not the only one involved in the racket, there are others. I have come to know that some people who are not doctors are the real brains behind the scam. They ensnared my father, used him for their evil purposes and made it seem as if he was the mastermind.'

She now looked deep into his eyes, as if speaking to his soul. 'I need your help.'

Porus swallowed, but his throat was aching, dry. 'What do you want me to do?' he asked in a soft voice.

Saakshi took in a deep breath. 'I want you to kill them, too,' she said with a determined look.

Hearing the strength in her voice, Porus felt fatigue creep into his body. He mopped his sweaty brow and looked around for some chewing gum. There was none.

Saakshi's face was inscrutable as she continued, 'You have to take revenge on them too. Kill them. Like they killed your father...like they killed my father, everyday...bit by bit...' her voiced trailed, waiting for Porus to say something.

He got up from the settee and walked around, trying to calm himself. After much deliberation, a hollow voice from within him spoke, 'Just let me confess to the police, instead.'

Saakshi got up and went to him, trying to stop his rapid pacing. She led him back to the settee and sat him down. 'You have cast the first stone, now I, too, seek revenge. Not on you. But on the others who coerced my father into joining them. Will you help me?' Porus was silent.

Saakshi rose from the settee with a cushion in her hand. She plonked the cushion down and knelt before Porus, with her knees on the cushion, and unzipped his pants. Porus shivered with excitement. She tugged at his underwear. Porus He raised his buttocks ever so slightly and the garment slid off him. Without a word, Saakshi buried her face in his lap.

'I will, I will.' The words tumbled out of Porus's lips almost like a sigh of relief.


 

Policeman Involved in Organ Racket.

 

In a shocking development, the Mumbai police arrested a senior policeman on Wednesday in the fallout of 'Operation Organ'. Senior Inspector Ravindra Kapse allegedly accepted a bribe of Rs 40 lakh from murdered kidney kingpin Dr Animesh Jetha to cover up his involvement in an earlier incident of kidney sale at a private clinic run inside a small Colaba 'Guest House', Hotel Walton. The owner of the guesthouse, Sriram Shetty, was arrested, but fled the country on receiving bail, and Dr Jetha's involvement had remained a secret, until now. Police sources have said that the Crime Branch, on receiving an anonymous tip-off, investigated and found enough evidence regarding Kapse's involvement. A case was registered against him and six other constables for accepting bribes from Jetha and Angre. They were allegedly bribed by an as yet unidentified key associate of Jetha's.

Additional Chief Metropolitan Magistrate D.P. Rane remanded Senior Inspector Kapse to fourteen days' judicial custody. Inspector Ramesh Virkar, from the same police station, has been given temporary charge of Senior Inspector Kapse's duties.


Virkar rode his Bullet motorcycle up the Western Express Highway. The 'dhak-dhak-dhak' sound of his Bullet was, as always, music to his ears. The almost empty highway felt like a runway under his wheels. Virkar hummed the tune of his favourite Koli song as he sped northwards:
'Mee Dolkara/ Dolkar Darya Cha Raja...'

After almost a year of anguish, Virkar felt alive. 'Big fish make good fish-fry,' he remembered the joke from his childhood. He laughed to himself, inwardly thanking the grey-haired constable for passing on the crucial information on Kapse. Virkar was convinced that Kapse was, at that moment, being fried in a vat of hot oil and was soon going to be eaten alive by the Crime Branch. 'I just helped stir the curry a little,' Virkar snickered. 'But I should take every step carefully.'

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