‘A day and a night passed. I worried about the solution. The next day, Vivek Uncle visited along with two other prominent members of our clan. He greeted us, avoiding eye contact. My father broke down.
“Vivekbhai, your son informed the cops,” said my father.
Vivek Uncle neared us, folded his hands and dropped his chin on his chest. Tears rolled out of his eyes.
“Please forgive me. I am doing my best for your release, but the police claim you have more booty. The matter has reached a higher level because the shop belongs to an MLA. I contacted him. He assured me mercy, but he needs his valuables. I also sought our MLA Ramubhai’s help; awaiting his response. You don’t lose hope. In India, all problems have solutions,” he said.
‘Yes. In India, we have solutions to even the problems that don’t exist.
‘He apologised to me too. “Chharanagar is upset over your arrest, Vicky. People are cursing us for his treachery,” he said. “Imagine my situation. All my life as a leader, I encouraged members to live united to survive in this unconcerned society. And today, my own son shamed me and the community. I have no words to express my pain, Vicky,” he said and covered his face with his hands.
‘My father rubbed his back and consoled him. Hah. We were distressed and deserved the consoling.
“May I ask you for help?” I asked.
“Sure, Vicky.”
“At least tell them to free my innocent father.”
“Yes, my child. I’ll do it. For your father, and for you too. I promise.”
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the bars.
‘The day being Saturday, the courts were off for the weekend. We remained in the station jail. Early Monday morning, they produced us before the Magistrate. Our offence was cognisable and non-bailable. The cops submitted a few papers and sought investigation time as well as our custody. The Magistrate granted their request. Once back to the station cell, I kept thinking about my father’s release, and he worried for our family. My mother often visited us with my brother. We convinced her of a better future every time.’
Chapter—14
Modern Slavery
‘On Sunday morning, Vivek Uncle arrived with an influential person. Accompanied by two and escorted by four, he swaggered in with hands in his pockets. The police saluted and offered him a chair. With chin up and chest bloated, our leader bounced around. He rushed near us and firmly shook hands with my father. He patted and squeezed my arms.
“MLA Ramubhai has agreed to help us,” he said, and requested the man to meet me. The man walked like a lion. The police guided him with respect and opened the cell. His assistants laid a square piece of silk cloth on a chair placed opposite us.
‘He sat on the chair with legs folded. His white cotton shirt with top two buttons open, sharply-ironed pant, two glistening Montblanc pen in his pocket, and a black diamond-embedded Rado watch, commanded honour. Long and thick jet-black hairs on his hands, brows and chest defended his manliness.
“So, you are the brave Vicky who robbed the jewellery store?” he asked. I stared into his eyes.
“Yes, Maalik, he is Vicky. Please help us, Maalik,” my father said.
“You have the guts to rob an MLA’s shop, but no courage to answer me? I have come for you. I don’t want anybody else to reply,” he said to my face.
“He is my father,” I said.
“But I’ll only talk to you. Do you want the discussion?”
“Fine. First, introduce yourself.”
“Hare Ram, Hare Ram. You don’t recognise me?” he laughed aloud. He leaned towards me and gazed into my eyes. “Well, you see. I am the Secretary of Veer Dal. We work for people’s welfare. I can help you against my conditions,” he said.
‘Veer Dal. I gaped at him with raised eyebrows.
‘My father interrupted again. “How can you help us, and what are the conditions, Maalik?”
‘He gritted his teeth, pushed back and screamed. “I’ll only speak to Vicky. Hey man, take him away.”
‘Two policemen and his assistants barged in and took my father out. His authority and my helplessness dominated me. I agreed to hear his offer.
“All right, Saheb. Specify your conditions.”
“That’s better,” he said, and relaxed. “You‘ll work for us.”
“What work?”
“Hare Ram, Hare Ram. I heard it right. You don’t give in easily. But see my foolishness. People beg me for support, and here I am, sitting in this jail to help a stupid criminal get free. Bloody hell. And what attitude he has, huh?” he said and pressed his jaws. “Fine; I’ll brief you.” He blew out his chest and exhaled aloud. Gazing at me, he rolled his tongue in his mouth, sucked his teeth, and said, “Your job will be the same as what you have been doing. You execute as instructed. No police harassment, and we’ll also reward you financially.”
“Still unclear, Saheb. Please explain.”
“I cannot describe the details here. In short, we’ll acquit you, and you work for us. Workers do what their employers say, correct?”
“But they know of their duties, Saheb.”
“Hare Ram, Hare Ram. Silly fellow. Do you realise your situation? You are in jail for robbing an MLA’s jewellery shop. Save your life.”
“Inform me of my duties.”
“Damn you.” He dropped his head and shut his eyes. In a while, he stared into my eyes. “OK, listen. One-word answer. Your duty is...” he paused, neared my face and whispered, “crime,” and pushed back. “It’s the same job. But with us, you will be protected.”
‘I closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall. Crime was my life, but it has categories. I pondered... What if they give scandalous orders? What if I denied doing my duty? The underworld has no contract system to sue me for violation. But if I did, the settlements would cost me lives. I gazed at the floor and scratched my forehead. I had no option. At least my father would be released, I concluded.
“Still confused, but have no choice.”
“Decide fast, Vicky. They have initiated proceedings against you.”
“Please, I need time.”
“Time? Hare Ram, Hare Ram. Don’t become a pain in my... OK... you let me know,” he said, and rose. He adjusted his clothes and exited.
‘I gazed through the bars. He murmured to Vivek Uncle, who dashed into our cell.
“What’s wrong with you, Vicky? Why did you reject his offer? They are influential people and can help us. You need to work under them, that’s all. And after all, we survive on misdeeds; what’s the big deal?”
“Uncle, he isn’t clarifying on crimes.”
“Oh, come on. Which crimes have you not done?”
“Murder.”
“Oh, man. Society murders us every moment, from the time of our conception. Every day the world progresses and we regress. Besides, are you sure they’ll ask you to slaughter? I respect your principle to not kill anyone for gains, but I would recommend doing it if required. When society butchers us, why can’t we butcher them?”
“Uncle, we execute crimes under compulsion of livelihood. Life is precious. We cannot create it; hence, we must never destroy it. My father has preached this, and I follow it.”
‘The community leader sighed. “Go teach your father’s preaching to mainstream society. At times, you need to kill unworthy people. The Gods, too, descended on earth to murder the devils. Aren’t you aware of the Hindu beliefs?”
“My inner voice stops me. What if they force me to commit a terrible crime?”
“But how else will you and your father come out? Grab the golden chance, Vicky.”
'I kept staring at the floor. Soon, he relented.
“OK. I’ll clarify with him on murder,” he said and rushed out. He spoke to the man and returned. “Done. He has agreed. They’ll start your acquittal process.”
‘I consented.
“He belongs to us; take care of him,” the man said. The policemen surrounded him and showered praises. He called the Inspector, hel
d a discussion with him, and left with his team and Vivek Uncle.
‘A constable released us from the cell and settled us in the Sub-Inspector’s cabin. “You are free now,” he said.
‘Soon, Irfan checked in. He flashed his teeth at us and directed the station writer to prepare documents. We sipped tea and munched potato chips. At 1 pm, they served us a prosperous lunch ordered from a hotel. We gobbled up a stomach-full meal.
‘Vivek Uncle arrived with another man. They too discussed something with the Inspector. Our leader confirmed my immediate discharge and my father’s after a few days. I insisted on my father getting released first and detaining me if required, but the man briefed me on the complications. My father coaxed me to let them handle the legal matter.
‘In five minutes, the Inspector declared my acquittal. I asked Vivek Uncle to explain how they had worked out my discharge.
“Their plan,” he said.
‘I asked a constable, and he diverted me to the accompanying man. I questioned him that if they could free me, why not my father?
“You will not understand the legal system, Baka. Your case is complicated. Earlier, the cops had mentioned Guddu as your robbery informer. We, therefore, altered the records. The police now state that your father robbed, and you sent Guddu to inform the Inspector. We’ll handle Guddu to accept it. You are, thus, freed for disclosing the theft,” he said.
“What nonsense. Then what happens to my father?” I asked.
“Arre, Baka. The cops will submit another report stating your father’s innocence.”
“Is it? And how will they prove it?”
“Don’t worry. We will take care.”
“No. Explain or I’ll not leave from here.”
“Ay, sisterfucker. Nobody can rescue you from this shit, okay? We offer to help, and you are bloody dictating terms to us?”
“My concern is my father’s release, and I’ll accept your conditions if you discharge my father.”
‘He called a man from the station and complained of my rigidity. He returned, flaring his nostrils.
“Motherfucker. God knows why they are favouring you,” he said and whisked into the Inspector’s cabin. Soon, they came out. “Listen, Baka; the Inspector will explain to you the plan.”
‘Irfan perched on a table and patted his baton on my arm. “Relax, Vicky. Tomorrow, we will prepare a different report. We will state the thief as an unknown who hid the valuables in your house. When you discovered them, you and your father informed the police. But being Chharas, you feared the cops won’t believe you but instead punish your whole family. You both, therefore, fought for the blame to save the other. Isn’t that simple? You don’t worry; go home,” he said.
‘My father convinced me to accept. I signed the papers. I hugged my father and bid him farewell with teary eyes. He patted, kissed my forehead, and pacified me. With a heavy heart, I left the station, and accompanied the man to their office. Vivek Uncle went home.
‘We reached Kalupur. He took me to Veer Dal headquarters on the first floor of a building. He asked me to wait at the reception. A petite girl at the desk squinted at me. I ran my hand through my hair and flattened my fringe. I stood beside the life-sized bronze idols of Hindu Gods placed in a corner. The wicks in the lamps burnt bright and still; and the incense stick’s aroma filled my breath. Staff, at respective tables spread across the floor, glanced at me in succession. I glimpsed at the decent interiors of the gleaming spacious office. On the South-west side were two posh cabins for their bosses. The guy returned and invited me to the VD Secretary’s cabin. The man who rescued me, reclined on a chair. He showed me his white teeth.
“Hare Ram, Hare Ram. Welcome to our organisation.”
‘I joined my hands and bowed to him. “What’s your name, Saheb?”
“Hahaha,” he laughed out. “My name is Sunil... Sunil Thakur.” He answered in a James-Bond-style and spread his lips. He stood up and straightened his shirt. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to our boss, Ramubhai, your constituency MLA. He is a dignified man,” he said.
‘We both entered the next cabin. A short man of a medium build of around 40 years, half-bald, with a tilak on his forehead swayed on his posh leather chair. Picture frames of Hindu Gods on the three walls surrounded him. Sunilbhai sat opposite him.
“He is Vicky,” Sunilbhai introduced me.
“Namaste, Saheb,” I joined my hands and bowed.
“Hmm. Vikram Chhara, who robbed a Muslim MLA’s jewellery shop, right?” asked Ramubhai, spinning the circular paperweight on his table. I dropped my head and gazed at the floor. “Your leader approached for help. You also begged for your freedom and requested to work for us. We obliged and paid one lakh rupees for your freedom. And here you are, sitting before me. Right?”
‘Hah. One lakh rupee payment for my discharge? Bogus, yet I nodded and said, “Hahn, Saheb.” I reminded him, “Saheb, my father is still in jail.”
“Hmm. That Muslim MLA... he has recovered half valuables, and demands seven lakh rupees for his freedom,” he said, and paused. He stopped spinning the paperweight, stared at me, and said, “Anyway, we will arrange it soon.” Sunilbhai stood up and gestured to me to leave.
“He’ll join our work from tomorrow, Ramubhai,” said Sunilbhai, and we exited his cabin.
‘Sunilbhai comforted me. I left for home. The pain of my father’s custody suppressed my joy of freedom. At home, I half-heartedly convinced my mother of my father’s release. In the late evening, I met Vivek Uncle with two intentions: to thank him for support and find Guddu. But Guddu was unavailable. He must be visiting the brothel.
‘The next day, I reached the office and waited for Sunilbhai. He came at 9:30 am and welcomed me on my first day. He called his subordinate Gaurang, who had brought me from the police station. Sunilbhai instructed him to train me.
‘I joined Gaurang to learn how the organisation works. He took me to the back of an old building in a bye-lane of a deserted interior in Kalupur. We entered through a rotten three by five feet iron door. I ducked, yet the frame punched my head and made me dizzy. Gaurang rubbed my head and warned me to take care. We headed forward and he knocked on the gate. A young man welcomed us. We climbed to the first floor and found another door on the right on which he knocked. A man opened the door and greeted us. We stepped into a small open space with a table and chair placed there. Further inside, we crossed another door, and the interiors dazed me. Damn it. The apartment was a concealed disco bar.
“It’s for VIPs. It is safe and under police protection,” said Gaurang. Dignitaries enjoy the dance shows and undertake hawala arrangements here.’
‘What is hawala?’ asked Zaheer.
‘Hawala is an arrangement to deliver illegal money. Gaurang specified its importance and insisted that I learn it soon. A man handed stacks covered in plastic bags with details to Gaurang, and we left from the back door.
‘We visited another building: a posh brothel house meant for high-profile people. To introduce me as a VD associate, he took me to the Commissioner’s office and a few police stations. We proceeded to our workplace, and I sat pillion. En route, I inquired about my father’s discharge, and he narrated his version.
“We can free him instantly,” Gaurang snapped his fingers. “But that rascal Muslim MLA blocks it.” He hit the air with his right index finger. “He wants to punish your father.”
“Punish?” I pushed my head over his right shoulder. “Why? He only needs his valuables.”
“Oh, come on. Beware of these people. They’ll be humble in person but are back stabbers. On Sunil Saheb’s instruction, I met him last night. I offered the payment, but he rejected it. Rascal wants ten lakh rupees.”
I pushed back and cleared my throat. “When will Sunilbhai pay him?”
“Sunilbhai needs to consult Ramubhai.”
‘We reached the office by lunchtime. Ramubhai came at 3 pm, and Sunilbhai followed him into his cabin. Outside, I rocked sideways. Sunilbhai came out, entered h
is cubicle and called me. “I spoke to Ramubhai. He said ten lakhs is an enormous amount, but we must help Vicky. We will arrange the payment and release your father.” I pressed my palm on my heart. The respect for Ramubhai, Sunilbhai and VD grew manifold and penetrated me.
“I’ll never forget your support, Saheb. I’ll work hard to earn multiple returns for you, Saheb,” I said with teary eyes and shaking lips. Sunilbhai patted my back and advised me to learn the VD works quickly.
‘The next day, I accompanied Gaurang to visit the MPP’s Gujarat Head Office at Gandhinagar. Gaurang went into a cabin, and I lazed in the lobby. The State Chief Praveenbhai arrived. The staff rushed at the reception to greet him, and he bowed and wished each one.
‘He stopped by me, raised his head and spread his pursed lips. “Need any help,” he asked.
“No, Saheb,” I bent my head and said. “I have come with Gaurang.”
“Oh, VD.”
‘He grabbed my hand and sauntered into his cabin. “Masala Tea for my friend, please,” he told a man. With both hands open, he invited me to occupy a chair.
“Who are you and what do you do at VD?” he asked, and I briefed him. “Achcha. You belong to the DNTs.” He scratched his clean-shaven cheek. “I pity their condition. But you must avoid crimes. Serve the people. Okay? Contact me for any help,” he said, holding his cup, and handed me his visiting card.
‘I finished my tea, thanked him and waited in the lobby. Gaurang returned, and we left.
‘At the office, Sunilbhai often discussed with me general, personal and business matters. I discovered many shocking realities of the world and people through him.
‘They trained me to handle businesses operated by VD. I worked to raise and manage funds for religious programs, evacuate properties, distribute illegal products, supervise their disco bars, gambling dens and betting activities, election works and everything as instructed by my bosses.
‘Sunilbhai had asked me to mobilise my vast Chhara following when required. Yes, they cleared me from the robbery case, but to use my abilities. I was an asset to them.
The Branded Criminal: In Search of Liberation Page 12
