Mumbaistan (5 page)

Read Mumbaistan Online

Authors: Piyush Jha

BOOK: Mumbaistan
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Parab was incredulous. 'How can you be so sure? It was just pure luck that the gun did not fire. What if my man was killed?' He spoke loudly, with the obvious intention of inciting his men.

The ACP shook his head, exasperated, then turned and nodded towards his men. Like a well-oiled machine, the ACP's men fanned out throughout the room in positions that blocked any movement in or out. From the folds of their clothes, they produced automatic machine guns. They kept their guns pointed to the ground, but the threat was clearly communicated to all. Parab and the other policemen in the room were stunned at the turn of events. Before they could recover, the ACP confronted the senior officer, 'Listen, you two-bit rat, my time is precious. I don't want to get into any politics with you...'

Parab was rabid now. 'I will show you politics... How dare you threaten me?' He punched a number on his mobile. 'I want to speak to Nandkar Bhau... Yes... Hello Bhau, there is an ACP here whom I don't know. But, he is threatening my men that if I don't release some prisoners...his name...I think it is Hani... What? Why? But...' he stopped speaking and extended the mobile phone towards ACP Hani. 'The home minister wants to talk to you.'

The ACP took the phone. 'Yes, sir...no problem, sir...okay, sir, thank you.' He handed the phone to Parab, who blustered, 'Sir, I want action against...' The corners of his mouth drooped as he listened to the minister. 'But...but...' he blubbered, then cleared his throat. It was obvious to everyone in the room that the line had been disconnected. He stood, looking at the ACP with a crushed expression, then put down the phone and cleared his throat again, but still didn't say anything.

ACP Hani spoke instead, 'Six months of planning have gone down the drain because you decided to play a political stunt to gain sympathy among your policemen. Today, you've only lost your posting... I hope that no lives are lost because of your stupid actions...otherwise...'


Dr Chitrekar's Lie-in Clinic in Agripada was a semi-derelict two-storeyed structure. It stood at a slight distance from the chawls lining the thin gullies, opposite the YMCA. Its healthcare service had once been the pride of the people of the neighbourhood, who were very happy with the cleanliness and the sanitary environment at the clinic. So much so that it was rumoured that a famous local underworld don of yesteryears, who was afflicted with a potentially fatal disease, refused treatment at the swankier Jaslok Hospital, choosing Dr Chitrekar's instead.

Dr Chitrekar had died many years ago, and the clinic had passed into the hands of a trust under the administration of Dr Chitrekar's grandson, who was not a doctor, but a professional gambler desperate to sell the property to the highest bidder to feed his gambling habit. The other members of the trust had refused to indulge the grandson and he, in turn, had let the clinic languish. The few doctors who still visited the clinic only conducted a cursory examination there. If the patients were found to be lucrative catches, they would be called to meet the doctors at their own private clinics.

From time to time, however, some doctors used the clinic as a base for shady private treatments like inconvenient abortions for mistresses of valued clientele or hush-hush hymenoplasties for brides-to-be, who wanted to restore their virginity as a 'wedding gift' for their unsuspecting 'arranged' grooms. Sometimes, surgeries could also involve closing a gaping bullet or a stab wound. Needless to say, maintaining a high level of secrecy was crucial.

It was one such doctor who was treating the still-in-pain Tanvir in an inner private room of Dr Chitrekar's clinic. Rabia was seated in the adjoining room, under the watchful eye of a heavyset female police officer. The strained expression on Rabia's face was proof of her ordeal and that she was reconciled to face more.

As ACP Hani entered, the female officer took her cue and left. The ACP sat down in front of Rabia, who looked prepared for the worst. 'Tanvir is a good man,' was the ACP's opening line. Rabia's expression did not change. The ACP changed tack and went flat out, 'Your...friend...Aalamzeb, is one of the gunmen who came into Mumbai along with the 26/11 terrorists'

This piece of information did the trick, Rabia looked as if she was about to faint. But what the ACP didn't tell her was even more deadly. Six months earlier, the ATS had come to know that one more motorized dinghy had landed somewhere along the eastern coast of Mumbai, along with the 26/11 attackers. In that dinghy were five people, including Aalamzeb, with a cargo of enough RDX to blow up three or four high-rise buildings in Mumbai. These men formed a sleeper cell, who would blend in with the local populace and wait for the right time to strike. They would accumulate the RDX at an attack point in a slow trickle, so as not to arouse suspicion. When the time was right, they would carry out a spectacular bombing attack, akin to the one on the World Trade Center in New York. To stop this from happening, ACP Hani, previously a trainer at the Counter Terrorism and Jungle Warfare College in Kanker, Chhattisgarh, had been summoned by the Maharashtra home minister.

The scion of an aristocratic Konkani Muslim family, ACP Hani, despite protests from his genteel business family, had opted for the IPS after his graduation from Mumbai's St Xavier's College. During his probationary period itself, the dynamic young Hani had been spotted as 'a man who had a future' by his seniors in the Maharashtra cadre. He had been sent for specialized training to Israel with the Mossad specialists right after 26/11. Thereafter, he was deputed at the CTJWC because he had stood first in his counter-terrorism course, performing better than many an Israeli commando. During the past year, he had been given charge of a special cell that reported only to the home minister. He had agreed to take on the mission only after the home minister had agreed to the ACP's intentions of 'taking on guerrillas like a guerrilla'.

ACP Hani had got a tip-off from an informer about Aalamzeb. But instead of nabbing him right away, his men had started tailing Aalamzeb to figure out who the other four Pakistani sleepers were and also to find out what had happened to the RDX. Three months earlier, an ATS officer had made a mistake while following Aalamzeb, and Aalamzeb had managed to give them the slip.

The ACP continued, 'We had been following Aalamzeb and discovered his regular visits to you.' He was now a little sheepish. 'So we recruited Tanvir to "befriend" you and find out whether you are clean or not.' He looked at the still-impassive Rabia. 'Tanvir told us about what happened to you, about the heinous crime committed against you, and that you were innocent. Aalamzeb, we realized, had fallen in love with you, so we had to use a ploy to force his hand, if possible. So Tanvir proposed to marry you, under my orders. I'm sorry for that.'

A single tear escaped Rabia's eye.

'Tanvir is a gangster, but he's a patriotic man who is helping the ATS. And now, I want help from another good person— you,' said ACP Hani, his voice as flat as possible.

Despite the tremendous pressure that Rabia felt in her chest, she maintained an even manner. 'You want my help?'

'Yes.' The ACP nodded. 'Call Aalamzeb and tell him that you have come to know about what he did to Tanvir. Beg for his mercy, plead with him to spare you and Tanvir. Ask to meet him one last time.'

For what seemed like an aeon, Rabia didn't say anything. She kept staring at the lazy billowing curtain at the dusty window of the room. The ACP sat patiently, waiting for her answer. Then, almost when it seemed that she would never speak again, she turned. All right, I'll do what you say. But first, I want you to set Tanvir free.'


Tanvir was being helped to his feet by a ward boy when Rabia was ushered into the room. Not wanting to reveal the extent of his discomfort, he pushed the surprised ward boy aside and stood on his own, albeit with some difficulty. Rabia walked up to him and placed a soft hand on his cheek.

'How are you feeling now?' she asked.

Tanvir reached out to hug her. But she stepped aside, taking care not to throw him off balance, to indicate to him that she was in command of this meeting. A hesitant voice rose from somewhere within him. 'Please forgive me, Rabia.'

Rabia allowed herself a tight smile. 'ACP Hani has asked me to perform a task for him. So I just came to say goodbye.'

Tanvir's voice instantly rose by a decibel, 'Rabia, listen to me. Please. I was caught in a trap. I had to do what they wanted me to. But you don't fall for their tricks. Don't do anything that the ACP asks you to do...otherwise...' he trailed off.

'Otherwise, what?' Rabia asked.

'Otherwise you'll become like me.'

She shook her head. 'I'm sorry. But I don't think I'll ever become like you.' The firmness in her voice surprised him. He stared at her, crestfallen.

Rabia looked him straight in the eye. 'Tell me this: do you love me?' she asked in a softened tone.

Tanvir shifted his stare to the ground. He still didn't speak. Rabia gave him one last look and walked out of the room.


'Will you please forgive me?' asked Rabia, with a hint of a sob in her voice.

The voice on the other side of the telephone fell silent. 'When there is love, there is no question of forgiveness,' came a calm reply, after a long wait.

Rabia was speaking to Aalamzeb on a hotwired landline. Seated next to her, the ATS technology experts were trying to trace the location of the number that Aalamzeb was using. But they were failing miserably, as the connection was routed through four Indian states, as well as through Dubai and Tajikistan, back to Mumbai.

As promised, Rabia had placed this call at ACP Hani's behest. He had briefed her on what to say. 'First, greet him the way you normally would. Then ask him for forgiveness.' Rabia was following her script.

'Then you would know that one can't help falling in love,' she continued. A hollow laugh was all she got in return.

'I know that you got Tanvir involved in a criminal activity. Please don't. He is innocent and, sometimes, hotheaded. He gets easily swayed by people.' Another hollow laugh was offered in reply.

'Tanvir and I want to start a life together. Please spare us.' Aalamzeb fell silent now. Rabia seized the moment 'But before that, I want to meet you one last time, for the sake of all that you gave me. Will you meet me?'

The silence was prolonged this time. For a brief moment the ACP felt that Aalamzeb had left the line, but then his voice crackled through, 'Excel Godown. Next to the Sewree Christian Cemetery. In exactly two hours'

The line was disconnected.


Tanvir paced up and down the room that seemed to get smaller and smaller with every stride. He felt like shooting someone in the head, gouging someone's eyes out. The fury at his situation was burning an acid hole inside him. At the best of times, Tanvir was a man who hated being helpless and uncertain. The current scenario, where he was unable to 'fix' anything, was driving him up the wall.

His mind was screaming at him to walk away from the clinic and bid goodbye to Mumbai for life, but his heart was behaving like a super-charged magnet keeping him glued to his place.

He forced his mind to relax and focus on what was keeping him back. It wasn't the fact that he still had the three attempted-murder charges on him—ACP Hani had already told him that his services were not needed any more and he was a free man. It wasn't that he wanted to somehow avenge the pain and humiliation heaped upon him by the police officer at the Robert Circle lockup. All of a sudden, he stopped pacing the room and stood still. It dawned on him. Rabia.

As his thoughts became clearer, he realized that he didn't want to leave Rabia alone in this situation. He wanted to protect her.

An orphan who had made something of himself in the city, Tanvir did not get attached easily, but his connection with Rabia was something he was not willing to give up anytime soon.

He sat down on the bed as the full import of the feeling finally hit him like a punch in the solar plexus.


Under the given circumstances, the appearance of a Turkish evil eye pendant, about the size of a child's playing marble, in the hands of ACP Hani, seemed nothing short of bizarre. Also known as the 'nazar bead' because of its appearance, the pendant is supposed to attract the evil eye and absorb its damaging power before it affects the wearer. Therefore, the bead is always on display, and not worn as a secret talisman. After a plain clothes policewoman, at the behest of the ACP, slung it around Rabia's neck, its bright blue hue seemed all the more striking against the jet-black of Rabia's burqa.

However, this particular pendant was not quite what it seemed. It contained a high-resolution chip-camera, no bigger than the head of a standard sized screw. Powered by a battery as big as a matchstick head, the camera could record high-quality video and sound for up to three hours.

Rabia had been briefed about the operation in detail. She was to enter Excel Godown, meet Aalamzeb and engage him in conversation. While doing so, she should ensure that she turned towards every other person in the room, so as to record their images on the camera. After concluding her conversation, she should leave the premises as soon as possible. Once she was back with them, the ATS would extract the camera. Then they would confront the terrorists immediately. Helped by the images retrieved from the camera, the ATS would know the lay of the land, and also be able to identify all the terrorists. Even if one of them escaped, his image would be flashed in the media prominently enough for someone to identify him sooner or later.

Rabia was pacing up and down the ward, going through the instructions in her head. For a moment, her eyes rested upon a crack in the door across from her. To her surprise, she saw Tanvir in the adjoining room, getting strapped up in a bulletproof jacket. Agitated, Rabia called out to ACP Hani, ACP saab, I asked you to let Tanvir go.'

The ACP saw what she was looking at and then said, 'He has volunteered himself. He has seen the face of one of the others with Aalamzeb and can identify him instantly.'

'But I will get the images on this camera. I promise.'

Other books

The Guardian Herd: Stormbound by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez
The Fire Ship by Peter Tonkin
The Forbidden Land by Kate Forsyth
Reasonable Doubt 3 by Whitney Gracia Williams
Slot Machine by Chris Lynch
American Curls by Nancy Springer
Tryst by Cambria Hebert
Hairy London by Stephen Palmer
Submission by Michel Houellebecq
All Dressed in White by Mary Higgins Clark, Alafair Burke