Catch Me? No You Can’t!

by Amit Nangia

  “I heard you left last night. I was worried.” Why wouldn’t you? Your scapegoat was out hunting in the night. And he hunted a tigress.

  “Is this is a way to treat a friend?” He kept one hand on my shoulder and ushered me in. “I am not going to have you let go of as meaty a deal as this. Let’s sit and discuss and whatever’s bothering you, we’ll sort it out. You are not sore at me, are you?” Now we are talking. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings with that little joke I made about staying away from Silky?” Joke? It was the hottest, sexiest, the most delicious joke ever, you joker!

  He looked up at me anxiously, as if he had lost a fortune and I could find it for him. His face was all friendly concern. He has to be a greater actor than many award-winning ones in Bollywood. This man could fool the smartest of men.

  “Thakur, your sense of humour is really bad!” I didn’t want to insult him too much; he could still help me get rich.

  He laughed uncomfortably, his hand still on my shoulder. “Tiwari, maybe it wasn’t a joke really. I just didn’t like the idea of another guy making time with Silky when I’ve never been able to get to first base.” Silky has taste, compensating for her foolishness of sticking to Thakur.

  “That didn’t bother me as much as something else on my mind…,” I hesitated. “Something about the whole thing…”

  “You are just confused,” he shrugged. “But then who the hell isn’t? Let’s sit in the bar and have a drink. I am sure it will clear your mind.”

  When he began talking, I realised he needed me for his plan, so he was willing to forget about me and Silky for a while. But I was sure he would get back at me as soon as he was through with me. Use and throw.

  For me, the choice was not between committing a crime and a righteous life; it was either this, or the old nomadic life. I wanted to believe that things would turn out alright at the end in this gamble. Rampyari also touched me assuringly, and I felt at peace.

  Within the next one hour, I was back on top of the world. Thakur had the right things to say at the right time. I knew what we were planning was not a very righteous act, but Thakur made me feel that all would end well.

  He didn’t once try to fool me that the job wouldn’t be dangerous. But he assured me that once we pulled it off, we’d be safe and we will be rich. Thakur still had good contacts inside the police department; that was a safe bet. He had been able to pick information on me in a matter of minutes, I knew. We’d be able to duck the traps that kidnappers are usually caught in, for we’d know about them in advance: whether the ransom currencies were marked, or whether there was a police stake-out at the pay-out place. He’d know every move that was being made, before it was made. He believed it and he made be believe it. We’ll get the money, and we’ll get away with it. We’ll be rich. Five crore among three people…a little more than one-and-a-half for me alone. What would I do with it?

  Silky came back from the restroom; she looked fairly good. She tried to ignore Thakur, but that man had his way around it. Must have gotten fairly used to it. So then, the three of us had a drink. As the alcohol started taking its effect on Silky, she began teasing me a little. Since she was funnier about it than mean, I didn’t really mind. The tip of her red stilettoes poked my calves gently and stirred the monster. Thakur was doing a good job at ignoring her moves and keeping the fire in.

  We didn’t discuss the actual kidnaping that evening. Thakur said it wasn’t a good idea to discuss the details in a public place. And moreover, he wanted me to settle down a bit. I didn’t poke much; I was feeling good about being rich soon.

  Thakur started to leave around ten. He was wishing me good night, shaking hands with me, when he suddenly jerked his head to look out of the window.

  “I think somebody’s coming! Silky…”

  Silky hurried to the window and peeped out from behind the curtain. She ran to the window at a mere glance from Thakur. As if Lion had asked his Mona darling to do his bidding. She turned around, colour drained from her face, “It’s Mirza’s men.”

  “Is Mirza also here?” Thakur turned white. “He’s going to kill me. What do we do now?”

  We couldn’t run. We couldn’t hide. Ye karega kidnapping! Mirza ke nam se phat gai iski.

  But Mirza was the problem at hand. We had to face his men; there was no other choice. The third lesson I had learnt in prison: when you have no other choice, forget everything and fight.

  I walked across the dimly lit bar, chest out with all the dumb confidence Thakur had just pumped into me. I had been a regular at bars and desi sharab thekas across Gurgaon and knew that they were superbly weapon-rich, though in unconventional ways. Whiskey glasses, beer bottles, iron rods in the tandoor, fancy iron bottle openers and other such stuff. I picked up a beer bottle as I walked towards the restrooms. While Thakur hid behind Silky, I saw Mirza’s guy from the corner of my eye. He was coming towards me. Just like in any other fight, Mirza must have sent his best man inside first, to assess the situation.

  The men’s room was as boring as drunken men: the walls were bare brick, and there were two wall-hung urinals and a mirror with a sink hanging below it.

  I held the bottle low down by my leg and waited. The ugly, huge guy came in seconds later. I could have hit him then and there, but that wouldn’t be fun. Moreover, he hadn’t attacked yet. Shuru tum karo, khatam Tiwari karega…har baari. He was glancing around, perhaps checking the area.

  I whistled and said playfully, “Lost your balls, Tommy?”

  The guy’s eyes popped out and he growled, “I wish I could break your back right away, or maybe just smash your smart ass and twist your tail. But, I am waiting for Mirza. He’ll be here in a minute.”

  The fun would now begin! I grinned at him and swung the bottle; it caught the guy high on the cheekbone and rocked him back. While he recovered from the unexpected hit, I smashed the bottle on the lip of a urinal, glass and beer flying everywhere, and jabbed the pointed broken circle into the guy’s thigh; and then again into his face with a twist, flesh tearing and blood flowing. I dropped the bottle and shoved the guy in the chest. He hit the wall and bounced back due to the impact. I dropped a solid punch straight to the guy’s nose. This was game over, right there. By the way, the guy’s head kissed the sink on his way to the floor. Wanted to smash my ass, the bloody sink-kisser.

  I took a deep breath before checking myself into the busted mirror above the sink. I rinsed the man’s blood off my forehead and shook like a dog. I headed back out and saw Silky and Thakur on their feet in the middle of the bar. I nodded towards the exit. Instead, they set off towards me. Oh God, I am not the exit, you fools!

  “Where’s the fat guy?” Silky said.

  “He had an accident.”

  We hustled on towards the gate. But the party wasn’t over yet. As Thakur opened the door and spotted his car at the far end of the alley, we could hear vehicles fast approaching. A particular sound of a bike without a proper silencer pierced the air. Thakur told me that was Mirza’s bike. I shoved both of them out of the bar and went not to the car, but right opposite. Four big guys in black t-shirts, dirty some coloured jeans, and orange bandanas stepped out of the two cars with tinted glasses. The last to step down was Mirza and he stood right behind them, supporting his bike on the stand. Why are they all wearing the same kind of clothes? Black is sexy for goons too, I guess.

  I could hear Thakur breathing right into my ear; he was shit scared of this guy. Sala fattu! I would have enjoyed the show but Silky was getting restless. While I was thinking of a way to escape, Mirza barked at his men, “Go in and find that kid! I want Thakur and that little girl of his too. Go!” This man would never learn. I will teach him someday I ain’t no kid!

  Just then, the lights went out.

  I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. The darkness was total and profound. And the darkness was completely silent, all the hum of life suddenly gone, leaving nothing in its place except blind human shuffling and a kind of whispered discussion.
We had such discussions in prison, planning to break out.

  Silky’s quivering voice reached me, “Tiwari?”

  “Stand still!” After a few breaths, when there was still no movement, I told her, “Now turn around.”

  I heard her feet shuffling on the floor, and Thakur’s quickly thereafter. I spun around and felt for Silky’s back. Putting my right arm around her shoulders, I found Thakur with my left hand. I pushed Silky ahead of me and pulled Thakur behind me, into the darkness behind the bar wall. We covered the whole perimeter of the bar while I could see Mirza’s men searching the bar with lights from their phone screens. We walked stealthily, got out to the street in the huge parking in the front, and straight into Silky’s car. Thakur could get his car back if he lived.

  “Phew,” Thakur sounded shaken. “That was close… Mirza is totally unreasonable; you know what I mean? You try to explain something to him, show him exactly why a proposition went wrong and it isn’t your fault, and he won’t even listen.”

  I turned to look at Silky; she yawned, staring at the dark outside the window. She turned to me, that mean spark back into her eyes. Daru kam hogai hogi dimag me. She needed a drink.

  “So Tiwari, what do you think of our leader who was hiding behind a girl’s skirt in the bar? The genius who’s going to lead us safely from dirt to diamonds? A truly great man, wouldn’t you say?” Silky spat venomously.

  Thakur laughed and gave me a nudge. “Don’t listen to what she is saying; she is high. I know she is just kidding…But look, Silky,” he added, “Let’s not go to that bar anymore.” He was in the Police. Full-bellied, empty-brained.

  “Then what do you want me to do? Stay locked in that godforsaken house forever?” Silky almost shrieked.

  Thakur only smiled, “Not forever, my dear. Only till we finish the job.”

  Back home and Thakur gone, Silky and I talked for a while. Or rather, I tried to talk to her as her drinks had rendered her good only for slurring and sleeping. So the next best thing was to come close to her.

  I offered to take her to bed, but we stood there together, her arms tightly around me. She squirmed contentedly, and her dress opened a little. I could see her cleavage and that turned me on. Silky bent her knees a little, sliding her warm flesh against me. She took a long shivery breath. The sweet softness of her breasts seemed to harden suddenly. Then, she kissed me, and gave me a push towards her room. She went to have a shower and I lay on the bed thinking about her. She was weird in her own way: one moment she wanted me, and the next moment she wanted a bath. Maybe I should make love to her in the bath someday. That would be so hot, and she would have nowhere to run!

  I stretched out on the bed, put my hands behind my head, and lay perfectly still. On the harsh prison floor, I had dreamt of having a real bed with a mattress and a fluffy pillow. A sexy girl would have been the cherry on the cake. Now, I had it all.

  My father was shouting at me, telling me I won’t be able to do them any good. That he would die driving Bade Saab’s car and my mother cleaning up houses. He wanted me to be a driver too; I wanted to make it big. I was educated. I had finished my schooling with decent marks…The servant announced my father’s death in an accident and I heard my mother cry…Bade Saab gave me some money and asked me to complete the last rites. After which, mother and I were to vacate the quarter and find new means…I stole valuables from his house but mother turned me in. Both of us were thrown out…I wanted power. I wanted to be rich. I would do anything to be rich. Anything.

  The creak of the bathroom door broke my sleep. I woke up startled and looked around. Silky stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. Her hair was damp, and her bare shoulders were lined with glittering beads of moisture. When she smiled at me, it was a smile I hadn’t seen from her before – lazy and sly, it seemed to belong to a different person entirely.

  Bade Saab was my past, buried. Silky, my present, sexy. Power, my future, just round the corner.

  I rushed towards her and locked her body against mine. She looked up at me, lashes fluttering, and the towel barely covering the shadowy cleavage I still remembered touching.

  Her hands curled into my hair. “Maybe you should kiss me.”

  I wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. I wanted to peel the towel from her skin and bury myself inside her for days.

  I stopped thinking, and met her waiting lips. She tasted so good, so exotic, and so ripe. Her tongue mingled with mine, moving back and forth in my mouth, making love to me with her mouth. I drew her closer, until our bodies merged together. For a moment, I let myself forget my past, but only for a moment. I drew back, stared into her eyes, wanting to understand her.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because I like you,” her lips nuzzled my jaw. “You’re sexy as hell.” Her hands skimmed my back. “And I desperately want you.”

  I took her hands in mine, needing to have her stop touching me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t believe this was real, but I wanted it nonetheless. Uff phass gaya Tiwari, jaan leke jayegi yeh naari!

  Unable to help myself, I took her lower lip in my mouth and sucked, fascinated by the feel of her jaw under my fingertips. Her lip was lump and rosy. I pulled her closer, until she sat in my lap, my hands pushing restlessly inside the towel. With an easy sigh, she melted into me. Her body was beginning to throb and heat. Her tongue tangled with mine, impatient, but then I slid my tongue deep into her. I kissed her with a slow, incessant rhythm that made her shift her hips until she could feel my erection underneath her. Even then, it wasn’t enough. She rubbed against me, the friction of my jeans a poor substitute for what her body was demanding.

  She fumbled with my jeans and I was happy to take off my clothes for her. With an easy nudge, I slipped off her towel. She wrapped her legs around my waist, needing to feel me inside her.

  I locked her hands with mine and then I plunged inside her. Her hips ground against mine, and I started to move. Thrusting inside her, deeper, in a fit to touch her heart.

  Three nights later, we were all sitting around the living room table studying the city map and going over Thakur’s notes. What pathetic handwriting! The dumb man was trying to save paper by scribbling too much into the same page. But Silky was right: he’d been planning this thing, working on it for months.

  He had done full research and had a full time table of the kid we were about to kidnap. Actually, there wasn’t much about Aryaman Oberoi that he didn’t know. I am sure he knew more about the kid than his own parents would. Because if they’d known what we knew, and if they’d done anything about it, there would be no kidnapping.

  Thakur poured himself a drink and raised his eyebrows at me, “Well, Tiwari. I guess the best bet for us is the daycare centre. But you’ll have to ask for him at the playground. He’ll be mixed in with a lot of other kids, you know, and you’ll probably have to go to the fat woman who takes care of the kids there. You have to figure out how to crack that.”

  “I guess I’ll take this risk; they might not feel things are out of place if they see me in the same car that comes to pick and drop the boy. That is what your notes show. At three-thirty, the matron sends the boy in the black Mercedes.” Silky’s petrol guzzler will come in handy now, I guess.

  “Duh!” Silky laughed. She poured a little whiskey into her glass, and shoved the bottle toward me.

  “Make sure you are sober on the day of the job,” Thakur added. “You can’t be boozed up or have a hangover on this job.”

  Silky gave him another mean smile. Then she smiled at me in a different way…and I knew she would be with me when we pulled the job.

  “Okay then, Tiwari,” Thakur turned to me, “We’ll do this at the playground on Monday.”

  “Around three o’clock,” I said.

  “Around three, yes. A few minutes before his usual time, just to play it safe. The chauffeur takes the boy to the playground at one, and he never picks him up before three-thirty or four.”

  Soon after, I butt
oned up the uniform and put on the big outsize sunglasses which Thakur had arranged. It was all exactly like the real chauffeur’s, and I wanted to see if the size was right. It seemed Thakur had gotten the uniform custom made for me.

  He nodded for me to sit down. “Once we do that touch-up job on your hair, you’ll pass fine. You’re maybe a little taller than the other guy, but no one will be measuring you.”

  “These glasses kind of bother me,” I said. “They make my face sweat, so I am a bit uncomfortable.” There were waterfalls of sweat gathering under the huge glasses on my cheeks.

  “Oh, don’t fuss like a kid. You won’t have to do much seeing with them. You won’t put them on until the last minute, and remove them when you move out of the place. Fine?”

  Don’t call me a kid, for your own good Thakur! I picked up my drink and swallowed my anger along with the mouthful of alcohol. Both burned the blood. I couldn’t think of anything more to say; I had picked pockets, robbed people, stolen cars, but never kidnapped a kid. I was worried. More than the kidnapping, I was worried about Thakur being out of the whole scene all along the kidnapping. Why did he need anyone else at all, a stranger, when he had half the place teeming with his ‘contacts’? I was missing an angle here.

  “Tiwari…” He was studying me, “Feeling a little nervous? Something on your mind?”

  “I’m just…uh…”

  “He’s wondering about the money,” Silky winked at me. “He feels lost without his pockets full of money.”

  “Well, he won’t feel lost much longer,” Thakur said. “We’ll have it in a week. Five crores for three of us to split!”

  Wow, that’s a lot of money. What all I could do with it! I hope we get it.

  Sunday night, I had a weird dream; a damned bothersome one at that. One of those in which everything turns out to be just the opposite of what you have been meticulously planning.

  Mirza was a pretty good guy. He hadn’t wanted to act like he had; he’d done it because he was forced to do so. Thakur owed him some money; Thakur had cheated him. He was just a victim of Thakur’s treachery. Even Silky was a pretty decent girl stuck with Thakur for some strange reason. Thakur was the real culprit, calling the shots all the way down the line. He cheated without conscience and he would cheat me too.