RIP

by Deva,Mukul

  His disquiet reached out to Payal. Assuming it had to do with Pooja’s death anniversary, which was the next day, Payal gave him all possible space. It was a subdued trio that finally left the Golden Dragon.

  Krishna’s disquiet increased on the long drive home. Luckily Sachin, tired by now, dozed off in the car. He was groggy with sleep when they reached home and Krishna half carried him up to the apartment and put him to bed.

  Upset with not being able to maintain his equilibrium Krishna fixed himself a large drink once Sachin had gone to sleep. Two more followed.

  It was a still, moonless night. One of the neighbours must have been smoking in their balcony. The fragrance of expensive pipe tobacco wafted up, faint but clearly discernible. Somewhere in the distance Krishna could also hear a music system, going louder than usual in this generally quiet neighbourhood. The Beatles classic it was playing reached out to him.

  One day, you’ll look to see I’ve gone.

  For tomorrow may rain . . .

  Closing the window he shut out the sound. But he was even more depressed by now.

  By the time he threw himself on his bed he was ready to pass out.

  He did.

  But that night, surprisingly, the nightmare did not return to wake him up. Or perhaps it did, but he was too numb.

  *

  A dozen miles away, Reena collapsed slowly on her bed. The letter from her lawyer, with the same court order attached to it, which had set Raghav off, fluttered out of her hands and floated down to the floor. Coming hard in the wake of her recent encounter with Raghav, it had shaken her up badly. So much that she had even forgotten to mention it to Payal.

  There were no tears in her eyes, but confusion and pain tore at her heart. The middle class girl, from the middle class family, from a middle class suburb of Ambala, brought up mostly by her grandmother, with those staid middle class Indian values, that marriage was a one-stop shop . . . that a woman entered her husband’s house a bride and left it only when life deserted her finally. Her education, the modern life she lived in this maddening metropolis, the tumultuous rollercoaster ride life had taken her on, none of them had altered her values much. None of them had prepared her for this day.

  Reena knew she was right. She could not have stayed on in that marriage. Yet she was unable to push away the despondency that swamped her.

  Returning from playing with his friends in the neighbourhood Azaan found her subdued and melancholy. Even if she had sat and explained to him, it was doubtful the young boy would have understood. But her mood transferred to him. He too was subdued when he finished his homework, sat through a dinner dominated mostly by silence and finally went to bed.

  That night, after a very long time, Azaan wished he had had someone he could talk to. He fell asleep wondering why his father could not be there for him . . . for them.

  Unable to bear the solitude any longer he went to Reena’s room. Gently opening the door when she did not answer his knock he found her asleep even though the lights were still on. He was turning off the lights when he noticed the letter on the floor, where it had fallen. He was picking it up to put it back on Reena’s bedside table when he noticed her cheeks . . . they were stained with tears.

  That hurt him.

  Instinct drew his attention to the letter. By the time he was done with it his cheeks were stained too.

  Wordlessly turning off the lights he tiptoed out, fervently wishing Reena would not wake up. He really needed to be alone now.

  The darkness in his room drew him in its fold. Cold, hurtful, yet somehow comforting. Throwing himself back on his bed he surrendered to it.

  Around midnight when Reena got up for a drink of water she thought she heard Azaan crying. Alarmed she went to check on him, but softly.

  He was lying still, his face turned away from the door.

  She stood silently in the doorway watching for a while, and then returned to her room when he did not move at all.

  That is why she did not see his cheeks were tear-stained. And the pillow had a big round patch on it.

  Even so, it was not a restful sleep. Neither for Reena, nor for Azaan in the bedroom next door.

  *

  Vinod was packing up for the night after yet another interminably long day at work. Not only had the last few days been hectic, but also the continuing lack of success had added to the burden and the tension. Most of his time was spent in maintaining the morale of his team. It was wearing him out. Despite that he was not really looking forward to getting home. Namrata, finally back home from her parents’ house, had already sent him three texts, each curter than the previous one. He had the feeling that the night promised to be long and acrimonious.

  I wonder if it’s worth it? This marriage thing sucks!

  He was trying to recall his bachelor days; they seemed so distant now, though it had not been that long ago. Nanda walked in disrupting his ramble down memory lane.

  ‘This just came in.’ He tapped the papers in his hand, the investigation reports on Krishna and Raghav. ‘I will go through it and brief you.’

  ‘Why don’t we do it now, together?’ Vinod was tired and needed something to keep him occupied.

  ‘Okay.’ Nanda began to scan the report. ‘Athawale seems to be living a pretty regular life. Like I told you earlier, wife Pooja deceased. Stays with Sachin, his ten-year-old son. He bought the house in Vasant Kunj when he quit service. Also has a car . . . a four-year-old Scorpio SUV. The kid studies in APS Dhaula Kuan. Office is in Bhikaji Cama Place; pretty up market and large, but it’s rented. Goes golfing and for tennis regularly. Runs every morning. Like I said . . . a pretty regular life . . . the kind expected from an ex-army guy. Neighbours speak very highly of him. Most of his socializing is with his ex-army buddies, who are his business partners also. Yes, he has been travelling a bit more than usual in the recent past and several of these trips have been to the cities where RIP has been active.’

  Nanda flipped the page and was about to read on when Vinod interrupted.

  ‘Neighbours? I hope our guys are being discreet. We don’t want to alert them if they are . . .’

  ‘That they are, sir. I made doubly sure of that.’

  ‘Okay. What about the other guy?’

  Responding to the question, and also eager to see if they had discovered something about his nemesis Bhagat, Nanda skipped the rest of the information on Krishna and flipped the page. Consequently neither of them learned about Payal and how her late husband had been killed. Had they discovered that he had died in an air crash caused by spurious parts supplied by Hassan, things might have ended differently. It was a silly mistake. But in the heat of the moment such things happen.

  ‘Hmmm . . . our worthy Captain Raghav Bhagat however seems to be a very different kettle of fish.’

  Vinod thought he detected a whiff of something strange in Nanda’s tone when he mentioned Bhagat’s name, but was so focused on the report that he did not give it any further thought.

  ‘Bhagat owns a pretty big place in Defence Colony and an even swankier farmhouse in Satbari. A bit unusual for an ex-army guy . . . don’t you think?’ He did not wait for Vinod to answer, but read on. ‘Also owns a large office in the Sheikh Sarai community centre, about four thousand feet. Rents out half of it and maintains a very smart office in the other half. Though does not appear to go there much. Even the two women he has there, a receptionist and a personal assistant, don’t seem to have much to do. Not during office hours at least.’

  Vinod caught this. ‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked.

  ‘Well it appears they spend more time with him in the evenings than during office hours.’ Pause. ‘Not together though . . . generally one at a time. And you’ll get a better idea if you see how they look.’ He held a couple of photos out to Vinod.

  ‘Hmm. I see what you mean.’ Both women were lookers. Shapely. Very well maintained. Dressed a bit too sharply . . . and revealingly . . . for workplace attire. Nearly identical in terms of body t
ype. ‘Our friend certainly seems to have an eye for women.’ He handed the photos back. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Like the colonel, of late the captain also appears to have been travelling to the same cities where RIP has been active.’ Nanda put down the papers. ‘But like I said, we have nothing concrete to tie either of them up with the RIP . . . or any of the hits. Even the travel, we have no way of knowing if that’s normal in their line of work, or related to these killings. So, what do you think we should do?’

  Vinod took a while before replying. He really had nothing to go on in either case, yet some deep-seated cop instinct kept tugging at him. Also, though he may not have acknowledged that overtly, but without any other suspects in hand, at least with these two he had something to show to Karunakaran. The minister had been calling him almost every few hours, demanding progress.

  ‘Maybe we have not dug deep enough.’ Nanda opened his mouth to protest, but Vinod headed him off. ‘Put both of them under 24x7 surveillance.’

  ‘Do you really think that’s warranted, sir?’

  ‘Give it a couple of days, Nanda. My gut tells me . . .’

  Knowing there was no logical answer or counter to gut feelings, especially those of one’s senior officers, Nanda nodded. ‘Right, sir. We will have them under surveillance from tomorrow morning.’

  He left. A while later Vinod too headed out. For whatever awaited him at home.

  I’m not going to take any more crap. Today if Namrata gets going I’m going to give it off to her.

  But by the time he reached home she had already gone to sleep. And there was no dinner waiting for him on the table. Exasperated he woke up the servant, who rustled up some eggs and bread for him.

  Stuffed with cheese and onions the omelette was very good, but Vinod was too preoccupied to enjoy it. There were too many things happening and too few leads to go on. That, coupled with the endless badgering from Karunakaran was wearing him down.

  ELEVEN

  THE MELANCHOLY MOOD had still not deserted Reena when the alarm clock trilled to life next morning. In fact, by now the gloom had sunk in so deep that she had to drag herself out of bed.

  She noticed that Azaan also looked very tired, as though he had not slept at all. That depressed her further. Even when she tried to cheer him up with talk of his birthday party the next day, his responses remained listless.

  To add to her misery they also missed the school bus.

  By the time she had dropped him to school Reena was feeling at the end of her tether. Deciding that she could not handle going to office today or face the thought of being alone at home, she pulled over and called Payal.

  ‘Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, Payal. If you are getting ready or on your way to office I can call later.’

  ‘No problem.’ Payal sensed her melancholy; by now the women knew each other too well. In light of their conversation last night she guessed Reena hadn’t had a very peaceful night. ‘I’m not going in for work today.’

  ‘Oh! All well?’

  ‘Yes, everything is fine. It’s just that I have to go to the temple with Krishna today.’

  Wrapped up in a dark, despondent mood, the thought of going to a temple was suddenly so appealing to Reena that she completely missed the reference to Krishna.

  When is the last time I did that? She was unable to remember. But the calm, soothing feeling of being in one she clearly remembered.

  ‘Mind if I come along? Am feeling very out of sorts today.’ Reena choked off a sudden sob that threatened to break free. But her pent-up anxiety was hard to hide.

  Payal could not have missed it even if she had wanted to. ‘What happened Reena?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I got a letter from my lawyer last evening. The final divorce and custody hearing is on this 19th. And I already told you what Raghav asked me. I’m so confused . . .’ Now, unable to rein in the anguish and anxiety bubbling inside, she began to cry.

  Payal’s heart went out to her. She did not have the heart to refuse, though she was not at all sure how Krishna would respond. Their annual visit to the temple, on Pooja’s death anniversary, had become like one of those sacred family functions. ‘Come on over, darling. Just don’t worry about a thing. Come.’

  Reena waited for her tears to subside before she re-started the engine and headed for Payal’s apartment in New Friends Colony.

  *

  Raghav had still not shaken off his drunken stupor when Karunakaran called.

  ‘The CBI seems pretty sure that you and that colonel are involved with the RIP,’ the minister began without preamble. ‘Both of you have been placed under 24-hour surveillance. They have even sought judicial approval for a phone tap, for all your phones . . . home, office and mobiles.’

  ‘Have they gotten approval?’ Raghav was alarmed, trying to throw off the alcohol haze and think of the calls he had made to his team and where all he had gone the previous day.

  ‘Not yet, but it should come through any time. Why do you think I’m calling you? Make sure you don’t call me . . . any of us in fact.’

  ‘Don’t stress, sir. I will have my men pick up another SIM card for me and use that for this operation. Will also keep mine alive so that the cops stay busy with it.’

  ‘Good thinking, but don’t come anywhere near me . . . not as long as you are under surveillance.’ Karunakaran sounded relieved. Perhaps that was why he elaborated further. ‘I asked the CBI guy why they were suspicious of you two, but he did not give me a clear answer. Lots of vague stuff about your recent travels, unclear sources of income and army background.’

  ‘Well you know I have nothing to do with those buggers. But,’ realizing this was his chance to get even with Krishna, ‘I have been digging around too and I tend to agree that the colonel may be involved with the RIP.’

  ‘Really?’ Karunakaran was animated, his curiosity aroused. ‘Why do you say that? What have you found?’

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it, sir.’ Raghav had laid on the accusation on the spur of the moment and realized he needed time to put a plausible story in place. ‘Let me first get this phone problem sorted out and warn my men about the surveillance so that no one goofs up. We don’t want anything pointing back to you.’

  That got Karunakaran off the phone pretty fast.

  Raghav warned his men and ordered one of them to get hold of a fresh SIM card. He then began to explore further the idea of getting Krishna out of the way using the RIP as a pretext. Knowing that both of them were under CBI surveillance made the task much harder. But that did not faze out Raghav. Good or bad, the man was an Indian Army para commando, a supremely trained warrior.

  Raghav knew there would be a way. There always is. One just has to look hard enough.

  He settled down to do just that.

  With that bastard Krishna out of the way maybe Reena would consider coming back to me again.

  That spurred him on.

  *

  The early morning call from Kunal had jolted Krishna awake, well before the alarm for school went off and Sachin woke up.

  The five of them were bunking at Kulwant’s Soami Nagar house. Working in pairs they were taking turns keeping the target under eyeballs. Right now Kevin and Kashif were doing that.

  ‘Just to let you know everything is under control, sir. No surprises so far.’

  ‘Are you sure you guys don’t need me?’

  ‘We need you to get some rest today. Tomorrow you can spell one of us if we feel the need.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ That made Krishna feel better.

  Then Sachin blew in like Hurricane Katrina and the next half hour passed with getting him ready, giving him breakfast and dropping him to the school bus. Sachin was buzzing about Azaan’s birthday party the next day and what all they had planned for it. By the time Krishna got back home he was feeling exhausted, but also relieved that Sachin was in high spirits again. He had just let himself in when the phone rang.

  ‘When are you two coming to pick me up?’ Payal
asked.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ For a moment Krishna was confused. ‘For what?’

  There was a long silence. ‘Today is Pooja’s . . .’ she trailed off.

  ‘Oh my god!’ Krishna was shocked that he had forgotten. ‘How could I . . . I didn’t . . . Sachin has already left for school.’ Words failed him. He was feeling like shit.

  All this confusion due to the RIP missions must have . . . but Krishna knew it was not just that. That thought made him feel worse.

  Payal sensed what was going through him. ‘I don’t think Pooja will be upset, Krishna,’ she said, gently but firmly. ‘She will be happy to see you happy . . . and Sachin also. Don’t forget that no matter how much you care, the boy needs a mother . . . or should I say, a complete family atmosphere.’

  Krishna could not think of anything to say. Uncertainty and guilt held him hostage.

  ‘You have clung to the past too much and for too long K. You have no idea how glad I am to see you finally start letting so. Don’t you see? This is life telling you to move on.’

  Right now he did not. Filled with remorse Krishna blurted out, ‘I’m leaving right now. Will be there as soon as I can.’

  Before Payal could tell him that Reena was also going to be there and explain why she had been unable to refuse her, a thoroughly shaken and stirred Krishna had hung up.

  Oh well!

  She wondered how Krishna would respond. And Reena as well.

  What will be will be.

  Payal sat down in the porch to wait for them. Hoping that Krishna would reach first so that she could explain. But today was not her lucky day.

  *

  Reena was a bit surprised to find Payal dressed in a sober, earth-coloured and borderless sari when she drove up. Barring a few formal or festive occasions, Reena had rarely seen her in a sari. Payal also looked somewhat uneasy. But the sight of her cheered Reena so much that she did not pay attention to that.

  ‘Thank you so much for having me over, Payal. I would have gone crazy alone,’ Reena said as she gave her a warm hug. ‘And what’s with you today? Sari. Temple.’ She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Anything I should know about?’