Shantaram: A Novel

by Gregory David Roberts

  I stepped up into Leopold’s, and Didier seized me by the arm before I could speak or sit down, turning me about and leading me to a cab that was waiting outside.

  ‘I have searched for you everywhere,’ Didier puffed as the cab pulled out from the kerb. ‘I have been to the most unspeakably foul places, looking for you.’

  ‘People keep telling me that.’

  ‘Well, Lin, you really must try to spend more time in places where they serve a decent alcohol. It may not make the finding of you easier, but it will make it far more pleasant.’

  ‘Where are we going, Didier?’

  ‘Vikram’s great strategy—my own superb strategy, if you please—for the capture of Letitia’s cold and stony little English heart unfolds, now, even as we speak.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I wish him all the best,’ I frowned, ‘but I’m hungry. I was about to make very loud noises in a plate of Leopold’s pulao. You can let me off here.’

  ‘But, no! It is not possible!’ Didier objected. ‘Letitia, she is a very stubborn woman. She would refuse gold and diamonds if someone insisted that she should take them. She will not participate in the strategy unless someone convinces her. Someone like you, my friend. And this must be achieved in the next half-hour. At exactly six minutes after three o’clock.’

  ‘What makes you think Lettie will listen to me?’

  ‘You are the only one of us she does not now hate, or has not hated at some time in the past. For Letitia, the statement I do not hate you is a poem of passionate love. She will listen to you. I am sure of it. And without you, the plan will fail. And the good Vikram—as if loving such a woman as our Letitia was not sufficient to prove his mental derangement—he has already risked his life, several times, to make the plan possible. You cannot imagine how much preparation we have made, Vikram and I, for just this moment.’

  ‘Well, nobody told me anything about it,’ I complained, still thinking of the delicious pulao at Leopold’s.

  ‘But that is exactly why I have searched for you all over Colaba! You have no choice, Lin. You must help him. I know you. There is in you, as there is in me, a morbid belief in love, and a fascination for the madness that love puts in its victims.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put quite that spin on it, Didier.’

  ‘You can spin it how you will,’ he replied, laughing for the first time, ‘But you have the love disease, Lin, and you know, in your heart, that you must help Vikram, just as I must help him.’

  ‘Oh God,’ I relented, lighting a beedie to stave off the hunger. ‘I’ll do what I can to help. What’s the plan?’

  ‘Ah, it is quite complicated —’

  ‘Just a minute,’ I said, raising my hand to interrupt him quickly. ‘Is this scheme of yours dangerous?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘And does it involve breaking the law?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘I thought so. Then, don’t tell me until we get there. I’ve got enough to worry about.’

  ‘D’accord. I knew that we could count on you. Alors, speaking of worry, I have a little news that may be of some help to you.’

  ‘Let’s have it.’

  ‘The woman who made the complaint about you, the woman who put you in the prison, she is not Indian. I have learned it, beyond any doubt. She is a foreigner who lives here, in Bombay.’

  ‘There’s nothing else?’

  ‘No. I regret, there is nothing more. Not at this time. But I will not rest until I know all.’

  ‘Thanks, Didier.’

  ‘It’s nothing. You are looking well, by the way. Perhaps even better than before you went to the prison.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m a little heavier, and a little fitter.’

  ‘And a little … crazier … perhaps?’

  I laughed, avoiding his eye, because it was true. The taxi pulled up at Marine Lines Station. Marine Lines was the first railway station after the central city terminus, at Churchgate Depot. We climbed the pedestrian ramp and found Vikram, with several of his friends, waiting for us on the station platform.

  ‘Oh, fuck] Thank God you’re here, man!’ he said, pumping my hand in a frantic, two-handed shake. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

  ‘Where is Letitia?’ Didier asked.

  ‘She’s down the platform, yaar. She’s buying a cold drink. See her there, just past the chai shop?’

  ‘Ah, yes. And she knows nothing of the plan?’

  ‘Not a fuckin’ thing, man. I’m so nervous that it’s not going to work, yaar. And what if she gets killed, Didier? It won’t be a good look for us, man, if my proposal kills her!’

  ‘Killing her would definitely be a bad start,’ I mused.

  ‘Don’t worry. It will be okay’ Didier soothed, although he mopped his brow with a scented handkerchief as his eyes searched the empty tracks for an approaching train. ‘It will work. You must have faith.’

  ‘That’s what they said at Jonesville, yaar.’

  ‘What do you want me to do, Vikram?’ I asked, hoping to calm him down.

  ‘Okay’ he replied, puffing as if he’d just run up a flight of steps. ‘Okay. First, Lettie has to stand just here, facing you. Just like I’m standing now.’

  ‘U-huh.’

  ‘It has to be right here. Exactly here. We’ve checked it out a hundred fuckin’ times, man, and it has to be just here. Have you got that?’

  ‘I … think so. You’re saying that she has to stand just —’

  ‘Here!’

  ‘Here?’ I teased him.

  ‘Fuck, man, this is serious!’

  ‘Okay! Take it easy. You want me to make Lettie stand here.’

  ‘Yeah. Here. And your job is to get her to put the blindfold on.’

  ‘The … blindfold?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s got to wear a blindfold, Lin. It won’t work without it. And she has to leave it on, even when it gets very scary.’

  ‘Scary …’

  ‘Yeah. That’s your job. Just convince her to put the blindfold on, when we give you the signal, and then convince her to keep it on, yaar, even if she’s screaming a bit.’

  ‘Screaming …’

  ‘Yeah. We thought about a gag, but we decided, you know, a gag might be a bit counter-fuckin’-productive, yaar, because she might freak out a bit, with a gag. And she’s going to freak out enough as it is, without using a fuckin’ gag on her.’

  ‘A … gag …’

  ‘Yeah. Okay, here she comes! Get ready for the signal.’

  ‘Hello, Lin, you fat bastard,’ Lettie said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. ‘You’re really beefing out, aren’t you, son?’

  ‘You look good, too,’ I replied, smiling at the pleasure of seeing her.

  ‘So, what’s this all about then?’ she asked. ‘It looks like the gang’s all here.’

  ‘You don’t know?’ I shrugged.

  ‘No, of course I don’t. Vikram just told me we were meeting you and Didier—hullo, Didier—and here we all are. What’s up?’

  The train from Churchgate Station came into view, approaching us at a steady pace. Vikram gave me the signal, opening his eyes as widely as the muscles would allow, and shaking his head. I put my hands on Lettie’s shoulders, gently turning her until she stood as Vikram had requested, with her back to the tracks.

  ‘Do you trust me, Lettie?’ I asked.

  She smiled up at me.

  ‘A bit,’ she replied.

  ‘Okay,’ I nodded. ‘Well, I want you to do something. It’s gonna sound strange, I know, but if you don’t do it, you’ll never know how much Vikram loves you—how much we all love you. It’s a surprise that we figured out for you. It’s about love …’

  The train slowed behind her as it entered the station. Her eyes were gleaming. A smile flickered and faded on her open lips. She was intrigued and excited. Vikram and Didier were gesturing wildly, behind her back, for me to hurry. The train stopped with a wheezy creak of metal triumph.

  ‘So, here it is—you have to put a blindfold o
n, and you have to promise us not to look until we tell you.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Well, yeah,’ I shrugged.

  She looked at me. She stared. She smiled into my eyes. She raised her eyebrows, and turned down the corners of her mouth as she considered it. Then she nodded.

  ‘Okay’ she laughed. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Vikram leapt forward with the blindfold and tied it on, asking her if it was too tight. He guided her a step or two backwards, toward the train, and then told her to raise her arms over her head.

  ‘Raise my arms? What, like this? If you tickle me, Vikram, you’ll pay!’

  Some men appeared at the edge of the roofline on the train carriage. They’d been lying on the roof of the train. They leaned over, and seized Lettie’s raised arms, lifting her slight frame effortlessly onto the roof with them. Lettie shrieked, but the piercing sound was lost in the shrill of the train guard’s whistle. The train began to move.

  ‘Come on!’ Vikram shouted to me, climbing up the outside of the carriage to join her.

  I glanced at Didier.

  ‘No, my friend!’ he shouted. ‘This is not for me. You go! Hurry!’

  I jogged along beside the train, and clambered up the outside of the carriage to the roof. There were a dozen men or more on the roof. Some of them were musicians. Sitting together, they cradled tablas, cymbals, flutes, and tambourines in their laps. Further along the dusty roof was a second group. Lettie sat in the middle of them. She still wore the blindfold. Men held her at the shoulders—one on each arm, and two from behind—to keep her safe. Vikram knelt in front of her. I heard his pleading as I crept along the roof toward them at a crouch.

  ‘I promise you, Lettie. It really is a great surprise.’

  ‘Oh, it’s a friggin’ surprise all right,’ she shouted. ‘And not half as big as the surprise you’re gonna get, when we get down from here, Vikram bloody Patel!’

  ‘Hi, Lettie!’ I called to her. ‘Great view, eh? Oh, sorry. Forgot about the blindfold. Well, it will be a great view, when you can see it.’

  ‘This is fuckin’ madness, Lin!’ she shouted at me. ‘Tell these bastards to let go of me!’

  ‘That wouldn’t be wise, Lettie,’ Vikram answered. ‘They’re hanging on to you so you don’t fall, yaar, or stand up, and snag yourself on an overhead wire, or something. It’s really only another half a minute, I promise you, and then you’ll understand what all is happening.’

  ‘I understand, don’t you worry. I understand that you’re a dead man, Vikram, when I get down from here. You might as well throw me off the bloody roof now, I’m tellin’ ya! If you think I —’

  Vikram untied the blindfold, and watched her as she looked around, taking in the perspective from the roof of the fast-moving train. Her mouth fell open, and her face slowly swelled into a wide smile.

  ‘Wow! It’s … Wow! It really is a great view!’

  ‘Look!’ Vikram commanded, turning to point along the roofs of the train carriages. There was something stretched across the tracks, much higher than the roofline of the train. It was strung between the pylon supports for the overhead electric wires. It was a huge banner, puffed like the sail of a ship in the steady breeze. There were words painted on it. As we neared the banner, the writing became clear enough to read. The words were painted in letters as tall as a man. They filled the whole width of the billowing sheet:

  LETITIA I LOVE YOU

  ‘I was afraid you would stand up and hurt yourself,’ Vikram said. ‘That’s why those fellows were holding on to your arms.’

  Suddenly, the musicians struck up the chiming, thudding strains of a popular love song. Their voices soared over the blood-stirring thump of the tablas and the wail of the flutes. Vikram and Lettie stared at one another, their eyes holding as the train pulled into a station, stopped, and pulled out again. Half way to the next station, we approached another banner. Vikram wrenched his eyes from hers, and looked ahead. She followed his gaze. More words were written across the taut white cloth:

  WILL YOU MARRY ME?

  We passed beneath the pennant and out into the soft afternoon light. Lettie was crying. They were both crying. Vikram threw himself forward and wrapped her in his arms. They kissed. I watched them for moment and then I turned away to face the musicians. They grinned at me, wagging their heads and laughing as they sang. I did a little victory dance for them as the train rocked and rumbled through the suburbs.

  Millions of dreams were born there, around us, every day. Millions of dreams died there, and were born again. The humid air was thick with dreams, everywhere, in my Mumbai. My city was a steaming, sweltering hothouse garden of dreaming. And there, on that red-brown rusting metal roof, a new dream of love was born. And I thought of my family as we rushed through the humid dreaming air. And I thought about Karla. And I danced on that steel serpent as it slithered sinuous beside the scroll and swell of the endless, imperishable sea.

  And although Vikram and Lettie disappeared for a week, after she accepted his proposal, a lightness and optimism that was like happiness circulated in the Leopold’s crowd. When he finally did return, that positive feeling greeted Vikram with real affection. Abdullah and I had just finished our training and we teased him, mercilessly, for his delirious, exhausted joy. Then, while Vikram blubbered about love, we ate in hungry, purposeful silence. Didier was jubilant, crowing over the triumph of his romantic scheme, and demanding modest tributes, in the form of stiff drinks, from everyone we knew.

  I looked up from my plate of food to see a man, one of the street boys who scrounged for the black marketeers, gesturing to me in some anxiety. I left the table, and walked to the footpath to speak with him.

  ‘Lin! Big trouble for you,’ he said quickly, looking left and right nervously. ‘Three men. Africans. Big men. Very strong. They look for you. They want to kill you.’

  ‘Kill me?’

  ‘Yes. Sure. Better you go. Go fast from Bombay for a while!’

  He ran off, and I lost sight of him in the crowd. Puzzled, but not worried, I returned to the table. I’d only eaten two mouthfuls when another man called me out to the street. It was Gemini George.

  ‘I think you’re in a spot of bother, old chum,’ he said. His tone was cheery, but his face was tense and afraid.

  ‘U-huh.’

  ‘Seems there’s three bull-necked African geezers—Nigerians, I think—and they mean to do you a bit of grievous bodily harm, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘I dunno, mate. I seen them talkin’ with some of the street boys, but then they got in a taxi and took off. They’re fuckin’ big lads, I tell ya. They filled that taxi, with a bit of flesh to spare. Fairly bulgin’ out the windows they were, know what I mean?’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘No idea, mate. They didn’t say nothin’ what they’re on about, Lin. They’re just lookin’ for you, and they got trouble in mind. I’d watch my back, and I’d watch my step, sunshine.’

  I reached into my pocket, but he put a hand on my wrist.

  ‘No, mate. On the house. I mean, it’s not right, whatever their game is.’

  He sauntered off in pursuit of a passing trio of German tourists, and I walked back into the restaurant. With Gemini George’s warning to support the first, I was worried. It took me longer than usual to finish my meal. Soon after, there was a third visitor. It was Prabaker.

  ‘Lin!’ he said, his expression frenzied. ‘There is a bad news!’

  ‘I know, Prabu.’

  ‘Three men, African, they are wanting to beat and kill and beat you! They are asking questions everywhere. Such big fellows they are! Like buffalos! You must make a lucky escapes!’

  It took me five minutes to calm him down, and even then I had to invent a mission for him —checking for the Africans at the hotels he knew well—in order to prise him from my side. Alone again with Didier, Vikram, and Abdullah, we considered my options, in a lengthening silence. Vikram was the
first to speak.

  ‘Okay, so we find the fuckers, and break their heads, yaar,’ he suggested, looking from face to face for support.

  ‘After we kill them,’ Abdullah added.

  Vikram wagged his head from side to side in agreement.

  ‘Two things are sure,’ Didier said slowly. ‘One, you must not be alone, Lin, at any time, until this is resolved.’

  Vikram and Abdullah nodded.

  ‘I will call Salman and Sanjay,’ Abdullah decided. ‘You will not be alone, Lin brother.’

  ‘And two,’ Didier continued, ‘the others, whoever they are, whatever their reasons, must not remain in Bombay. They must go—one way, or the other way.’

  We got up to pay the bill and leave. Didier stopped me when the others walked to the cashier’s desk. He pulled me down into a chair beside him. Sliding a napkin from the table, he fumbled under the table’s edge for a moment and then slid a bundle across to me. It was a pistol, wrapped in the napkin. No-one knew that Didier carried a gun. I was sure that I was the first to see and handle the weapon. Grasping it tightly in the napkin wrapping, I stood and joined the others as they left the restaurant. I looked back over my shoulder to see him nodding gravely, the curly black hair trembling about his face.

  We found them, but it took us all the day and most of the night. In the end it was Hassaan Obikwa, another Nigerian, who gave us the decisive clue. The men were tourists, completely new to the city, and unknown to Obikwa. He had no precise idea of their motive—it was something to do with a drug deal—but his network of contacts had confirmed that they were determined to do me harm.

  Hassaan’s driver, Raheem, almost fully recovered from the injuries he’d suffered in prison, discovered that they were in one of the Fort area hotels. He offered to resolve the matter. He was conscious of the debt he owed me for buying him out of Arthur Road Prison. With an earnest, almost shy expression, he offered to have the men killed, slowly and painfully, as a personal favor to me. He seemed to think that it was the least he could do, under the circumstances. I refused. I had to know what it was all about, and I had to put a stop to it. Clearly disappointed, Raheem accepted the decision, and then led us to the small hotel in the Fort. He waited outside with our two cars while we went inside. Salman and Sanjay remained with him, watching the street. Their brief was to stop the cops, if they arrived, or slow them up long enough for us to leave the hotel.