The Song of Kahunsha (12 page)

“That boy’s name is Jackpot,” whispers Sumdi.

“Jackpot?” It is the first time Chamdi has heard the word.

“It means he’s lucky. He’s only four years old so foreigners give him lots of money. He begs at Colaba, a rich area. Anand Bhai is so fond of him that Jackpot is allowed to take a taxi from here to the begging spot and back.”

Chamdi stares at Jackpot. How did he lose his legs? It is cruel to call someone lucky because they are without legs. Even Handsome has a name that does not match his appearance. No one will be deformed in Kahunsha, Chamdi decides. He clenches his fist tight as though his dream city is in the palm of his hand.

Soon they are all huddled in a group. Chamdi stares at Chottu, the blind boy with silver eyes. Chottu faces everyone at an angle, with one ear forward. Even Sumdi stands at an angle, as though he is hard of hearing.

The old man who was sitting near the goat now comes towards them, this time with a cane basket in his hand. He throws the basket onto the
ground and walks away. Someone tosses a pair of ladies’ slippers into the basket. They look new. A man’s watch lands in the basket as well. A set of keys. Then men’s underwear, brand new, is added to the pile. “Who got that?” someone asks. And someone answers, “It’s your father’s. After his balls were cut off, he had no use for them.” Everyone laughs. Someone drops a bulging wallet into the basket.

Chamdi notices the silhouette of a man who stands in the half-light of one of the small rooms. Both his arms are above his head, holding on to the low roof. His body is arched forward. He steps off the landing and strides towards them, buttoning up his white shirt, running his fingers through his hair. As he comes closer, Chamdi notices that the man’s eyes, though a piercing black, seem bloodshot, and have dark circles underneath them.

Sumdi nudges Chamdi with his elbow. This must be Anand Bhai.

Anand Bhai peers down into the cane basket and rubs his thick beard. There are beads of perspiration around his neck and under his eyes. He pushes his unruly black hair off his forehead.

“Who got the wallet?” he asks.

The blind boy raises his hand.

“Tell us how, Chottu. Maybe these other pimps can learn,” says Anand Bhai.

“I found it. That’s all.”

“Hah?”

“It was on the ground. I had gone for a shit just behind Khalid’s video library, and I stepped on it. Someone must have dropped it.”

“And here I thought this was the result of years of training. Blind as a truck driver and you find a wallet.” Anand Bhai laughs, and the others join in. But Chamdi notes that everyone remains alert, as if they might stop at the slightest command to do so.

“The keys. Who got the keys?” continues Anand Bhai.

“They are car keys,” says Munna.

Munna sells newspapers, thinks Chamdi. And the blind one is Chottu. He sells movie magazines. Chamdi suddenly realizes that he is making a mental note of their names and jobs. He stops immediately.

“These are the keys to a white 118 NE,” says Munna, beaming. “Outside Mohan Sarees. I took it from old Mohan’s pocket after he locked the car and the shop. He parks the car there only because he lives above the shop. I dropped my newspapers
right on his feet so he got irritated and started shouting. It was easy because he was angry. Anyway, someone can go pick the car up now. Mohan won’t realize until morning.”

“Very good, Munna,” says Anand Bhai. “Now, which idiot got men’s underwear?”

“That was also me,” says Munna. “Because after you steal Mohan’s car, he’ll be poor and naked, and we’ll send him this underwear just for fun.”

“Next time, don’t risk stealing underwear.”

“Yes, Anand Bhai.”

“Ladies’ slippers, hah. I’ll give this to Rani. Munna, go give this to Rani. She’s in my room. Go in quietly because she’s naked on the bed. First see all you want and then knock on the door. Your prize since you got a car for me.”

“Thank you, Anand Bhai.”

“Even I want to go,” says Chottu.

“But you’re blind.”

“I’ll smell.”

“Hah! You dog! Maybe next time.”

“But I got a wallet.”

“I said next time.”

“Yes, Anand Bhai.”

Munna waddles along. Chamdi asks himself if such a clumsy person can be a good thief.

“Run!” shouts Anand Bhai. “Run before she wears her clothes.” As Munna runs, Anand Bhai rubs his beard: “Running after whores at such a young age. Very sad.”

Just as Anand Bhai is about to turn his attention back to the rest of the group, something falls out of Munna’s shirt and lands on the gravel. Munna does not look at the ground-he looks straight at Anand Bhai.

“What’s that?” asks Anand Bhai.

Munna stands perfectly still. He does not answer. Only the goat’s bleating can be heard. Chamdi tries to discern what has fallen on the ground but cannot tell. The light that spills from Anand Bhai’s room falls a few feet short of it.

“I asked you what it is,” says Anand Bhai.

“Nothing, I just …”

“Bring it here.”

Munna picks up the object and brings it to Anand Bhai. “It’s a knife,” he says proudly as he hands it to Anand Bhai. His manner of speaking is now extra casual.

The knife is inside some sort of leather casing. Anand Bhai slides it out. “It’s huge,” he says.

“Butcher’s knife.”

“Stolen?”

“Yes, the butcher went up a building to deliver meat and he left his cycle down and I found this in his bag. It’s really huge, so I took it.”

“So you took it, hah?”

“Yes, it’s good to carry a knife.”

“So when were you going to give it to me?”

“I was saving it. I wanted to give it to you as a birthday present.”

Anand Bhai slaps Munna hard across the face. Munna rocks back, but does not fall to the ground. Anand Bhai is calm. He does not look at Munna, but feels the blade of the knife with the tips of his fingers.

“I’ve told you all many times, no weapons. If any policewala sees, then we have to pay him. Many times I’ve told you pimps.”

“Who cares about the police?” asks Munna.

In one swift motion, Anand Bhai slashes Munna across the right eye. Blood spurts out. The ladies’ slippers that were in Munna’s hand fall to the floor. Then Munna is painfully silent as he bends over and covers his eye. No one looks directly at him. Chottu grits his teeth. He may be blind but he seems to be aware that something terrible has happened. One low, raspy “aah” from Munna joins the bleating of the goat.

“Take him to Darzi,” says Anand Bhai, to no one in particular.

He wipes the blood off the knife with his white shirt. Chottu leads Munna away, to the room on their left. A young man opens the door. He sees Munna and then looks at Anand Bhai.

“Navin, ask Darzi to take care of this one,” says Anand Bhai.

“What happened?” asks Navin. He is thin and wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Munna thinks he’s a big don. Take care of him, brother.”

Chamdi wonders if that is truly Anand Bhai’s brother or if it is just a manner of speaking. The young man does not resemble Anand Bhai at all. He is clean-shaven and very thin.

“Okay, Anand,” replies Navin.

They must be brothers, thinks Chamdi. No one has called Anand Bhai by his first name. Navin lets Munna and Chottu in and closes the door.

“I have something important to tell you all,” Anand Bhai says. “There was an incident in the city last night. Does anyone know where Radhabai Chawl is?”

No one answers.

“Radhabai Chawl is in Jogeshwari,” continues Anand Bhai. “A Hindu family was sleeping in their room. Six people in all. Some say there were nine of them. We are not sure at this point. But the family included two children and one crippled girl. Some men bolted the door from outside and threw a petrol bomb in from the window. The family was burnt alive. Some say only the cripple girl survived.”

Anand Bhai purses his lips. Then he sticks his tongue between his teeth as if something is stuck in there.

“Do you know who did this?” he asks.

In the silence that follows Anand Bhai’s question, Chamdi thinks of Mrs. Sadiq. Perhaps she was right. Bombay has gone mad and people are hurting each other in terrifying ways.

“I’ll give you a hint,” says Anand Bhai. “The neighbours heard shouts of ’Allah-O-Akbar’ as the flames were rising. So let me ask you again: Who did this?”

“Muslims,” comes the answer.

“Yes. Muslims,” says Anand Bhai.

“Why did they burn them?” asks Jackpot, the boy without legs. Chamdi is surprised when he hears Jackpot’s voice. It is truly the soft voice of a
child. Jackpot raises one hand to his face, but realizes that his slipper is on his hand, so he puts his hand back on the ground, takes the slipper off, and then scratches his nose.

“They burnt them because of Babri Masjid,” replies Anand Bhai.

The name is familiar to Chamdi. The Hindus broke down the Babri Masjid, a mosque in Ayodhya, a faraway place, Mrs. Sadiq had said, and now Hindus and Muslims were hurting each other in Bombay because of that.

A few days later, when Raman was cleaning the toilets, Chamdi had asked why the Hindus broke down the mosque. Raman explained that Ayodhya was where Lord Rama was born. Hundreds of years ago, there used to be a temple there. A Mughal ruler called Babur broke down the Ram temple and built the Babri Masjid in its place. Now the Hindus want that temple rebuilt. So they destroyed the mosque. At the time, Chamdi dismissed Raman’s words as those of a drunkard.

As Chamdi recalls this, Anand Bhai calmly removes a packet of Gold Flake cigarettes from the pocket of his white shirt. He takes out a cigarette and puts it into his mouth. He holds the cigarette very lightly between his lips, and Chamdi
feels the cigarette will fall to the ground at any moment. Anand Bhai then uses a gold lighter and speaks with the burning cigarette in his mouth.

“This retaliation from Muslims should not have happened. Mark my words, the flames of Radhabai Chawl will spread all over Bombay,” he says. “The order has come from very high. There will be more riots. Killing, raping.”

Chamdi takes a step back when he hears Anand Bhai talk about killing. Sumdi firmly holds Chamdi’s shoulders and Chamdi understands that he must stay calm and not move again.

“I have organized a group of men,” says Anand Bhai. “You boys must also join in. It will be good training. Get ready to bajao some young Muslim girls. Shops will be looted also. Police will be on our side, no fear.”

Chamdi feels uneasy. He did not understand all of what Anand Bhai just said. But the word
killing
is known to him.

“Now all of you hurry up and give me the begging money,” says Anand Bhai. “I want to steal Mohan’s car tonight. Hope it’s in good condition so I can sell it fast. Jackpot—you want to buy a car?”

Everyone laughs. Soon, they all start to line up.

Handsome inches forward, the ball-bearing wheels of his wooden platform unable to move freely on the gravel. Anand Bhai looks at the old man who sits near the goat. The old man has lit yet another beedi, but he throws it away immediately and picks up what he was sitting on—a metal box. He walks towards Anand Bhai and places the metal box on the gravel.

Handsome states the amount he earned. Anand Bhai gives Handsome his share. The rest goes into the metal box. Handsome vigorously scratches his head with both hands as though he has not washed in weeks.

When it is Jackpot’s turn, Anand Bhai tousles the boy’s hair. Jackpot is younger than Pushpa at the orphanage, Chamdi thinks, and yet he knows so much. Chamdi stares at Anand Bhai’s bloodshot eyes and the sweat on his chest. Even though they are out in the open, the smell of beedis is very strong. Perhaps it is because there is no wind. The air is old and it refuses to leave.

Handsome draws Anand Bhai’s attention to Chamdi.

“So who are you?” Anand Bhai asks Chamdi.

“He’s new here,” says Sumdi. “We brought him to take your blessing.”

“I’m asking the boy.”

“My name is Chamdi.”

“Chamdi? What sort of name is that?”

Chamdi knows his answers must be brief. A lack of respect will result in blood.

“My father gave me that name.”

“Where’s your father?”

“Dead.”

Chamdi is surprised at the speed of his answer. But he will never reveal that he is looking for his father.

“Did Sumdi explain the rules to you?” questions Anand Bhai.

“Yes.”

“Explain them back to me.”

“Everything we make is yours.”

“Lovely rule.”

“Then you give us back whatever you feel is right.”

“And you saw what happened to Munna—he didn’t follow rules. He carried a knife. He disrespected me. Now for a while you will beg. Get to know your area really well. Then slowly you will progress to stealing. No stealing until you are trained.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Anand Bhai.”

“Good.”

“Tonight was your first night and I’m in a good mood. So you keep whatever you earned.”

Chamdi is glad to hear that. But he corrects himself immediately. He is not proud of the way he has earned his money.

Anand Bhai turns to Sumdi. “So—how are my eyes doing? Have they seen anything useful?”

“Yes,” says Sumdi. “On Lamington Road there’s a jeweller shop. Every Monday, in the afternoon at around three, this young woman comes to buy jewellery. She looks like she is newly married. Only the driver is with her and he’s not very strong. I have seen for a month now, and she is there every week on Mondays, without fail.”

“Hmm. We’ll do some setting.”

Sumdi tells Anand Bhai how much money he made. He gets his share and deposits the rest in the metal box.

Then Anand Bhai asks Guddi: “Did you sell anything today?”

“One Laxmi, one Hanuman, one Ganesha,” she replies.

A wail erupts from the room to their left. A glow emanates from the open window—it is the light of a natural flame, an oil lantern perhaps.

Anand Bhai clicks his tongue. “Darzi must be sewing Munna up,” he says to Guddi. “So you can’t enter the room now. But the old woman has made more gods for you. Go to her tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Anand Bhai.”

“Don’t worry, Munna’s a tough boy.”