The Branded Criminal: In Search of Liberation

by Yakub Totanawala

  “What’s the matter, Vicky?”

  “Is the murder necessary? I can evacuate it my way.”

  “You fool.” He thrust his chest out and billowed. “You are sympathising with them? How can you forget your father’s pain?” he said. “My dear, the same Muslim MLA has settled this community there. He enjoys power because of such people. The same fellow who didn’t settle your case and imprisoned your father. Don’t forget, my boy, your father is in prison because of him. He has also challenged me to put you behind bars and punish you both with rigorous imprisonment.”

  ‘My heart rate increased. Sunilbhai continued, “You are free because of us. Write my words on a blank paper, Vicky, if you can execute today’s task, your father will be home within a week.” He snapped his fingers. “Do you want your father out of prison?”

  ‘I bared my teeth. I would do anything for my father’s acquittal. I anyway disregarded the society that didn’t bother about us.

  “Chharas will share and enjoy once the locality is registered on their names. Their lives and the world will change. We will recommend the government to de-list Chharas as Habitual Offenders,” he said.

  ‘Liberating Chharas from the Habitual Offenders’ trap would be a dream come true. History will glorify me. My fists clenched and my body stiffened.

  “Once you occupy Naroda Patia, your community will be uplifted. Chharas can educate and enter mainstream society. We want to give you equality. Chharas will have a history with your name, Vikram Chhara, written in golden letters. Vikram Chhara, the hero who liberated his downtrodden tribe.”

  ‘My body trembled. With teary eyes, I conceptualised the gleaming future of my oppressed group. I bit my lower lip, breathing heavily.

  “Let me reveal to you a heart-breaking reality,” he said. “You know why we couldn’t settle your case despite the ten lakhs amount? Because, along with cash, that MLA asked for your mother in the settlement.”

  My mouth opened and eyes popped out.

  “I have seen her. Tall, slim, and fit. Bring her, and I’ll compromise,’ the MLA had said. Payment was not the concern, Vicky. When we could arrange 10 lakhs for you, why not 13? You are more worthy than money. But the MLA asked for your mother. I didn’t inform you because it would hurt you.”

  ‘I clenched my jaws together. The thought of my mother as ransom boiled my blood, and my temper peaked. My nostrils flared, and lips trembled.

  “I had pleaded with him: ‘Saheb, he is a poor boy. And you’ll earn more than your value of stolen valuables. Kindly forgive him.’ But he laughed it off. His associates commented. ‘Does he have a sister? She would be more useful.’ What do you expect me to reply, huh?”

  ‘My mouth dried up. I clutched my throat and swallowed the lump.

  “And how can you forget your oath? Don’t you remember the day at Court, your father chained and dragged away for imprisonment? I had suggested you wait for the right time. Now is the chance; a lifetime opportunity for you. Decide whether you want your father, your revenge and your community’s welfare, or not?” he said, clutching my left arm.

  ‘My father’s arrest flashed before me. My vow of vengeance and my father’s release made my heart pound. The revenge of my mother’s insult ignited me. The agony of our suppression and a chance of prosperity made me desperate. The intense hateful environment engulfed me. The Muslim hatred re-surfaced, and the spirit of destruction overpowered me. My tribesmen, eager for execution, yelled and thundered. The provoking and fiery speeches by prominent members fuelled the sentiments. The religious chants echoed and enough tools to execute the tasks were handed over. Liquor boxes were opened. We guzzled until the alcohol consumed us and overpowered our judgement ability. Additional 2000 men from VD’s side joined and provoked us. I turned into a beast. We split the group into two, collected the instruments and reached Naroda Patia by 8:30 am.

  ‘I circled the area on a motorcycle to assess the situation. Residents performed their chores, and our groups took charge on each side of the road. In the front stood a high wall, and in the back, an open field that was accessible to another road. We deployed a part of our group there too. Hindu bungalows with tall boundary-walls lined up the crossways. In this way, we sealed all the potential escape routes.

  ‘The clock struck 9 am. The masters arrived. We surrounded them and chanted the religious slogans.

  “They burnt our volunteers, let us burn them. Attack,” shouted our leaders, and the carnage began. I paused, took a deep breath and exhaled. I shut my eyes and dropped my head. Silence reigned over for a minute.’

  ‘How many did you rape and murder?’ Zaheer asked.

  I turned red with shame. I pressed my lips tight and covered my face. But I cannot escape from reality or change my past. And I was not a politician to present him with false figures. I cleared my throat and said, ‘I assaulted a dozen women, raped three and murdered eight people.’ My voice cracked.

  ‘Hmm... So, you have served your God?’

  His words slashed my heart. A storm of emotions erupted within, resulting in streams of tears. I cried.

  ‘What makes you cry?’

  I sniffed. ‘It is my life’s biggest sin, and I cannot forgive myself for it. I am not at peace, Zaheer. My dark past haunts me, and guilt kills me every moment. I want to erase my past. How can I seek forgiveness for my deeds?’ I wept with my head rested on my knees and covered with my hands.

  ‘Is there a police case against you?’

  Hah. A mockery of the largest democracy on earth. I lifted my head and said. ‘No. Nothing. They had assured protection beforehand.’

  ‘Why are you worried then?’

  I glowered at him. ‘What do you mean, Zaheer? I regret my sins. Though lately, I have realised life’s value and my crimes. I lament and seek forgiveness for it. I wander in search of the right path.’

  ‘Aha. You have changed? You repent, huh? I see... And what brought this change?’

  I filled my chest and exhaled aloud. As I closed my eyes, my life-changing incident flashed before me. Tears dropped. I sniffed and prepared to share a worthy experience.

  Chapter—17

  The Baby

  ‘The same day, Zaheer. I can never forget it in my life. After destroying your family, we crashed into another house. Inside were a sixty-year-old man, a woman aged 25 and her five-year-old son. They retaliated, but my men overpowered. We pulled them out and attacked them. The guys raped the woman, and while they butchered her, she kept screaming, “Munniiiiiii, Munniiiiiii.”

  ‘Munni? A girl must be inside the hut. I dashed in and found a baby on my left. A year-old girl in her sleep suit, sitting on her butt, and eating chocolate. Her fair complexion, glowing light-blue eyes and curly light brown hair mesmerised me. Her chubby cheeks and chin covered her neck, and her tummy battled to rip her dress apart. Unaware of the happenings, she licked the sweet and relished it. I had never seen such a gorgeous child and gaped at her. My fist, hands and body loosened, and my breathing calmed. I bent and crept towards her. She continued eating chocolate.

  ‘She stirred my brotherhood and reminded me of my younger sister. Yes, my sister who had died at the age of two. I adored her. On a fateful festival day, devotional songs were blaring on the speakers. While playing, she went near the liquor-brewing container and caught fire. Her cries failed to carry over the pitch of the music. The blaze gobbled her by the time we discovered her. I had never stopped missing her.

  ‘The baby smacked her lips and glanced at me. My heart surrendered. I put my sword away and slouched beside her. I stared at her twinkling eyes. She giggled and showed me her sweet, then pulled her hands behind her to hide it. She threw her head back and forth and chortled. Her pure and innocent laughter touched my heart.

  ‘Her glance changed my life. She smiled and extended her spongy right arm and offered me her chocolate. My stomach sank and my heart walloped. I leaned on the wall and looked at her with my head tilted. The emotions swept me away and my eyes became moist. I
shook my head for a humble ‘No’ but she rolled and grabbed my left knee. Her tiny hands smeared the melted chocolate on my jeans. She stood up taking my knee’s support and again extended her hand. Her chocolate-laced soft fingers touched my lips and electrified me. The plastic wrapper of the local “Chocky” sweet available at petty shops pressed on my lips. Society had snatched everything from us, but this baby offered me her precious possession. For the first time, I experienced any care and affection from a human besides my parents.

  ‘I found my own dead sister being reflected in her. She had the same habit. She would first deny, later offer me her chocolate. My heart questioned my mind over the difference between her and that infant. The provocation to commit crimes against a targeted section defused. With my palm on my chest, I gazed at the charming girl. She pushed her sweet into my mouth. My lips parted. Her fingers slid in, and I licked them. An everlasting creamy and ripe taste filled me. My warm breath blew on her little hand. She giggled and pinched my nose with her other hand. The ordinary chocolate and the baby’s affection consumed me. I melted. I remember the taste of her tiny spongy fingers till date.

  ‘Amidst the havoc carried out by us, a question haunted me. What was the difference between one human and another, one child and another? From a raging wild beast a few moments ago, I quietened. I squeezed her arms and ran my hand through her hair. She patted my cheek. I let her play the way she wanted.

  ‘The sound of the mob pouring petrol alerted me. I rushed out. They cheered and gave me the flame.

  “Burn it, Vickybhai,” they said.

  ‘I peeked inside and spotted the baby crawling towards me. My heart throbbed. She reached me and extended her right arm, offering me her sweet. My associate pulled my hand and torched the hut. Wooosshhh... The flames spread over the house. I could only stare, as if frozen to the spot. My companions dragged me away. The child lifted her head and viewed the fire. Unaware of its destructive power, she giggled, nodded, and offered her chocolate again. My heart raced knowing she would soon be roasted alive just like my sister was. She sat giggling and offering her sweet. From a distance, I gaped as the burning roof collapsed on her. The girl threw her arms and legs and screeched in pain. I shut my eyes. I wanted to leap into the flames and save that baby from coming to any harm but I felt rooted to the spot. It was as if the helplessness of that fateful day many years ago had again permeated my very being, freezing my limbs in its cold vice-like grip. Along with the chocolate, the baby too melted in the fire.

  ‘The leader of the dreadful attack stood indecisive. Pain ruptured me. The mob chanted the slogans and moved to the next target. I gazed at her hut, quivering, unable to choose between right and wrong. The flames reflected in my pupil as if it burnt within me. My boss’s provocation had brainwashed me and I executed the task without any consideration. I murdered, raped, vandalised and torched houses, and committed inhuman crimes. But there, I witnessed a severe conflict between the spirit of guilt and destruction.

  ‘My heart questioned me; why did the innocent baby have to die? I saw that baby in my sister’s image. The fresh taste of the chocolate and her fingers shredded me to the core. Her screams had gone silent, but the wild flames still fluttered. I ran towards her.

  “Munni, Munni,” I whispered. Something gave way and I felt like I could move again. It was as if the deathly silence after her piercing screams had finally shaken me awake.

  ‘I tried to enter the hut. I picked up a plank and beat the flames, but I failed. I kept rubbing my face and coughing. Tears streamed out from my eyes, and I kept murmuring to myself, “I need to save her.” The blaze mocked me. It felt like the flames screeched a horrifying laughter and flared more ferociously. I couldn’t stop the fire I had ignited. How weak I was, that I could only destroy. I couldn’t create or at least preserve the creation. The blaze didn’t understand my emotions and ate the house.

  ‘When the flames subsided, I lurched towards the entrance, searching for the girl. As the smoke started to clear, I sighted her smouldered body. I froze. Tears streamed out, and I slipped on my knees. I threw my head back and tugged my hair. I couldn’t save my sister but I could have saved this infant. Why didn’t I? With my legs crossed, I sat numb, staring at her lifeless and charred body. My lips and limbs shivered. I covered my face and sobbed.

  ‘Even today, the visuals of that day pushes me into depression. That episode changed my life. Yes, it changed my life forever. My companions invited me to attack, but I sat unaffected. They proceeded, and I approached the door, wailing. Smoke billowed from her charred body. A few minutes back she had offered me her chocolate, and now she lay lifeless. My throat choked, and I struggled to breathe. My heart palpitated, and I started to retch. I must have fainted because when I woke up I was in City Hospital. I was resting on a soft cushioned bed, and a doctor attended to me. I slumbered for an hour and woke up again.

  “Are you alright, Vickybhai?” asked my companion. What should I answer? The innocent baby’s death weighed heavily on my heart. How could I share my pain with these murderers?

  “Not well,” I said.

  ‘The doctor admitted me under dedicated medical care. I couldn’t eat and wept all day and night. I slept when my eyes were exhausted and needed rest. I always carry my family photograph in my wallet. I gazed at my sister’s photo and lamented, remembering the baby.

  ‘I defended equality and opposed the discrimination between a Chhara and another human. There should be no bias based on caste, religion, race, colour, region or anything. But that day, I had discriminated against and destroyed a locality based on their religion. I had violated my own beliefs. I had violated my roots. I was shameful and shattered.’

  Chapter—18

  The Disclosure

  ‘After three days of extreme violence, the Army arrived to control the situation. The large-scale butchery subsided, but the attacks continued. And the destruction and wounds remained forever. The flames of hatred blazed. God’s precious creation lay on the roads, dead and burnt, in the name of God.

  ‘The carnage planners invited the Chhara men on the ground behind Naroda Patia. My companions carried me from the hospital. The organisers celebrated and cheered the implementation.

  “Excellent job. Gods are happy with you, and will reward you,” they said, and applauded. As promised, they paid Rs. 1,000 each to 4000 gang men, and Rs.5 lakhs to me. Few men pressed the notes between their lips and enacted pumping women amidst the cheering and shrieks of laughter. I stood numb as the screams of victims echoed inside me. The image of the burning baby roasted the inside of my head.

  ‘Everybody inquired after my health. They brought me back to the hospital and provided me with the best treatment, but there was no respite for my emotional hurt. In the late evening, two days later, they discharged me.

  ‘At home, another interrogation started.

  “Tell the truth, Vicky. What role did you play in this communal riot?” asked my mother. I gave her lame excuses, but because my tribesmen had informed her, she forced me to confess. “I know you participated. Tell me what you did and why, else I’ll never see your face again,” she said, as the last warning.

  ‘I admitted. “Yes, Maa; because my organisation ordered me.”

  “What organisation is this? And what did you do?” She pressured me for a specific answer.

  ‘I sighed and said, “I destroyed Naroda Patia.”

  “Naroda Patia?” She caught me by my collar. “Our neighbouring locality, which is completely burnt and ruined? Did you do it?” she asked.

  “We were instructed to plunder, kill them, and destroy their houses.”

  ‘She held the edge of her dupatta between her teeth and slapped me.

  “You murdered them? Why?” she cried.

  “Orders.”

  “What orders? Anyone will say anything, and you will execute it? Are you in your senses? Do you realise what you have done? You forgot your father’s preaching?” she grabbed her hair and squeezed her eyes.
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br />   “We were proud of you, Vicky, and you deserved it. But today, you ruined everything. Whatever may happen to this world and us, we oppose killings. No. No, and No. No forever.” She threw her hands around. “We would stay hungry, but not murder anyone. You destroyed our trust and faith, Vicky. What’ll happen when your father discovers his darling son’s role in this bloodshed? How has this slaughter benefitted you? How can you sleep peacefully now, Vicky? How can you breathe after committing such heinous crimes on innocent people? Why did I give birth to you? Why didn’t I die before witnessing this day?” she said, and thumped her hands on her head, howling.

  ‘I turned my pale face away and stared at the floor, shivering. Sweat gleamed on my face. Instead of a hero, I ended up being a demon. I rubbed my arms and gulped the choking lump in my throat. Guilt attacked my heart. My body quivered, and my attempts to convince myself with the hatred seeds within me failed. The Muslims are bad and a reason for all the problems. They must be punished hard. My father was in prison because of a Muslim MLA. The Muslim MLA sought my mother to satisfy his lust. Society is cruel. It crushes us, and I should not care for them, and so on. Nothing worked. My heart boiled, and peace escaped from me. The baby’s image burnt me in hellfire. I drowned in guilt.

  ‘The next day I woke up and found my mother in agony for my ghastly deeds. She didn’t bother to serve me breakfast and kept weeping. My heart pounded, and I darted glances at her. I freshened up and sneaked out.

  ‘I saw a few injured Muslims. My colleague said Guddu had arranged a shelter for the riot victims. Guddu bastard did everything opposite. He wanted to earn sympathy. But I awaited the announcement for Naroda Patia allotment and houses registration, which would make Chharas sing my praises.

  ‘I plodded towards the entrance. The dogs pounced on me, barking, and I shooed them away. I leaned on the wall with arms crossed. In a few minutes, a police jeep followed by a Maruti van and a white Maruti Esteem arrived. A sand cloud whirled, and chocolate wrappers flew on me. The gatekeepers moved aside, whining. Six policemen skipped out of the jeep and eight people out of the van. The Muslim MLA, Hamid Saheb, dressed in whites, stepped out of his car. They hurried in to oversee Guddu’s shelter for victims. A little later came a mini-van, honking and hooting and halted near the gate, raising another dust cloud. The volunteers carried out food, medicine and clothes from it. Thirty minutes later, the MLA team returned. A constable spotted me and greeted me.