The Branded Criminal: In Search of Liberation

by Yakub Totanawala

  “Aliya chom she, Vicky?”

  ‘Hamid Saheb stopped. He scanned me. I glared at him through the fringe and rolled my eyes away. The same bastard had put my father behind bars and desired to bed my mother. Hatred intensified and my heart beat faster.

  ‘The MLA approached me. His teammates followed, but he stopped them. He approached me alone. I remained unmoved. Two dogs with their tongues out and tails wagging surrounded me. I breathed rapidly.

  “How are you, Vicky?” he lifted his head and gazed into my eyes. Oh, the same fucking humbleness, I said to myself. “Okay,” I croaked.

  “How’s your father?” he asked.

  ‘I frowned. Was it an insult? I spoke out on his face. ‘Because of you, he is still in prison, Saheb.’

  “Why?” he asked. His forehead wrinkled. “Why because of me?”

  “Don’t pretend like a human, Saheb; I know your reality.”

  “Reality? What are you talking about, lad?” He glanced around, baffled.

  “My beloved Saheb. You demanded money and to satisfy your lust, raised illegitimate demands. You wanted to punish us. Right?” I said.

  ‘His brows narrowed, and he stared blankly back at me. He called his associate and whispered to him. His associate neared me and said,

  “Saheb wants to discuss this in private. At Saheb’s house or your place of comfort.”

  ‘For a moment, I didn’t react. Hamid Saheb squeezed my shoulder and blinked, inviting me for a discussion. I slid my right leg from the wall. After the tasks I‘d executed, meeting in his house carried risk.

  “My house,” I said.

  ‘The MLA caught my hand and pulled me towards my house. His assistant accompanied us. Four dogs followed, wagging their tails.

  ‘We entered my hut. “He is Hamid Saheb, whose shop I had burgled. He needs clarification,“ I said to my mother.

  ‘The man greeted her with folded hands—"Namaste Behenji.” She pleaded with him for my father’s release. Remembering his intentions, I requested my mother to wait outside. We sat on the floor.

  “Vicky, why is your father in prison? And why do you blame it on me?” he asked. His smooth and soothing voice flowed into my heart. Though I hated him, I loved to hear him speak.

  ‘I touched my heart and said, “Saheb, if you must believe a Chhara for once, then believe me now. We had kept your valuables in a steel pot.” I pointed to the spot. “The police collected all, but delivered only half of it to you.” I squeezed my eyes and threw my head back. “The VD organisation freed me from jail, but couldn’t discharge my father as you’d made rigid demands. At the station, you agreed to free us against your valuables. So, the VD members negotiated my father’s discharge, which you first fixed at seven lakhs. But when they came to pay, you increased the sum to Rs. 10 lakhs,” I said, baring my teeth. “You further raised it to Rs 13 lakhs, plus an illegitimate command. You wanted to punish us and satisfy your lust,” I said and punched my thighs. “VD people revealed everything to me,” I said, pointing my index finger in the air. I let out a huge breath and stared at him.

  ‘His brows furrowed and he gaped at me for a while. “What VD members? Who negotiated, and when did I claim any money? Ya Allah. What is this illegitimate command? What are you talking about, lad?”

  ‘His gaping associate interrupted, “Why are you bluffing, Baka? Who told you all this nonsense?”

  ‘My heart thumped. My face loosened and eyes widened. A thought flashed through my mind. God forbid, no. Oh, my God; no, never... Fuck. It sent a chill down my spine.

  “Yeah. Nobody came to me... and why should anyone come?” said the MLA. “First of all, my establishment falls under Kalupur Police Station limits, and I had registered the complaint there.” I blinked, and he continued. “Inspector Irfan of Satkarnagar Station called me about your arrest. I visited, he submitted half the valuables, and we met you in the lock-up. After I left, I consulted my lawyer who said our shop is insured against theft. I am familiar with your tribe and the torture you face, and so I empathised with you. But to claim insurance, we must submit a First Information Report copy with details and value. At Kalupur station, I told the Inspector to prepare an FIR for my insurance claim purposes. He handed me a copy, and I informed Irfan to release and send you both to me. I had plans to employ you in the same store and help you lead a peaceful life. But you never came,” said the MLA.

  ‘My intestine felt knotted. I gasped for breath, gaping at him. A blast ripped my head. What the fuck? My hut whirled, or was it me? I went blank. Life’s deadliest shock jolted me.

  ‘I stammered. “Saheb, your words are ripping me apart. Tell me you punished my father; it’s okay. I committed a crime and deserved punishment. I am also fine with my father’s imprisonment. But for God’s sake, say you rejected their offer. Please admit it, Saheb, else I can’t survive.” I grabbed my collar. Sweat stood out all over my trembling face.

  “What’s wrong with you, Vicky?” the MLA asked. “Okay, first you explain to me your part.”

  ‘I stammered again. “Saheb, did anyone from the VD approach you on my behalf?” I hoped for his approval.

  “No. Nobody. And why should anybody contact me for your discharge when I already ordered it?”

  ‘Fuck it. His words minced my heart. I clutched my throat and wailed. The MLA held my hand. My mother rushed inside and embraced me. A drop of tear transformed a furious woman into a mother again. With no judgements, she caressed me.

  “Why are you crying, my child?” she asked.

  “I am finished, Maa. They manipulated me to commit heinous crimes,” I bawled and banged my head on the wall. I tugged my hair and slapped my cheeks. I cried without a voice.

  ‘The MLA rubbed my chest. His associate held me from behind. My mother fetched a glass of water and held it to my mouth.

  “Can you please explain to me?” asked Hamid Saheb.

  ‘After a few moments, I mustered the courage and narrated VD’s negotiation story. The MLA covered his mouth, and his assistant gaped at me. My mother hit her cheeks and wailed. I cried silently. Hamid Saheb asked me of my participation in communal riots.

  “Hanh, Saheb, I led and destroyed Naroda Patia,” I said with teary eyes.

  Hamid Saheb gritted his teeth and slapped me hard. “Shameless rascal. I regret forgiving you. I should have better imprisoned you,” he said, and stood up.

  ‘He stomped off but stopped at the door and glared at me. “Vicky, Naroda Patia residents are poor. I struggled for ten years to push their development files, and they still await clearance. But you devastated them in a day. How great you are. But you have not demolished everything. A few survivors are sheltered in your Chharanagar. Go and kill them too. And boast of destroying the entire Naroda Patia. Go, slaughter them all,” he said and stepped out. He stopped again and turned. “How did their destruction benefit you? Think and send me a reply,” he said and left.

  ‘I crumbled and trembled like a fish without water. No one could empathise but my mother. Screeches echoed inside me; nobody could hear but my mother. I rolled in flames like I was in an oven or a burning tandoor. Or like the carnage victims. At least, the hatred against a group flowed out through my tears. And another flame burnt in me—the flame of revenge. I kept wailing and fell asleep on my mother’s lap.’

  Chapter—19

  The Revolt

  ‘At noon, I woke up. Mother offered me lunch, but another hunger blazed me. I rushed to the office to meet those bastards. The staff inquired of my health and cheered me. The goons were out, and I seized the opportunity. “I’ll wait in his cabin,” I said, and stepped in. I shut the door. His cupboard was locked. Hah, big deal; I opened it with a piece of wire. I picked up the papers, the audio and videotapes, and with an excuse that it was time for me to take my medicines, I escaped home. In an hour, I returned to the office and waited for those criminals.

  ‘At evening, Sunil arrived. I never called him Sunilbhai after his exposure. The motherfucker beamed a smile at
me, greeted and patted my upper arm. My jaws clenched and neck tightened. I followed him into his cabin and bolted the door. I sat opposite him. He pushed himself back on his chair, interlocked his fingers, and rested his head on his palms behind.

  “Yes, tell me, dear,” he said.

  “MLA Hamid Saheb came to Chharanagar this morning,” I said.

  “Oh. What for?”

  “A few of my tribesmen have sheltered Naroda Patia survivors.”

  He released his hands from behind, put them on the table, and leaned towards me. “I see... You want to murder them as well?” he asked and laughed out loudly.

  “I want my father out,” I said, staring at him.

  ‘He pushed back again. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, sucked his teeth. “No more worries, Vicky. Guess what? I have qualified to contest for the MLA seat in the coming election. I must win. What do you say, huh? You have done an excellent job and deserve your father’s discharge.”

  ‘My temper rose. “I met Hamid Saheb this morning,” I said.

  “Why? I mean... what for?” he said. Crinkles formed on his forehead.

  “I confronted him to discover the truth.”

  Sunil raised his brows. “What truth?” he asked and stretched forward.

  “The reality of my robbery case,” I said with jaws clenched. “You want to know, you bastard?”

  He stared at me blank for a few seconds, and said, “You believe him?”

  “Yes. I do. He explained everything to me. He sympathises with my community and never wanted to punish us. No one from VD approached him for my father’s acquittal. In fact, he had instructed the police to free us. You lied. Irfan lied. You all deceived me, right?” I banged the table and stood up, wheezing.

  “Hare Ram, Hare Ram,” he said and pushed himself back again. He stretched his hands and yawned big and loud. “So, Columbus has now discovered America. Hahaha. This is an interesting turn. What will you do now?” he asked, flashing his front teeth.

  ‘My blood boiled, and I jumped on his table. I kicked him on his face. He fell on his back but triggered the safety bell on his table. The alarm rang. I climbed on him and hammered him. His assistants broke open the cabin door, barged in, and pounced on me. I thrashed them too. I picked up the objects from around and banged them on Sunil, and he panted and wailed over his wounds. Shrieks and thrashings echoed, till his men overpowered me. Sunil bled from head, nose and mouth, and bruises and rashes flashed on his face, neck, hands, and legs. His associates dragged me out and pinned me down. They cuffed me and shackled me with a rope and a heavy steel chain. They battered me.

  ‘A few minutes later, Sunil came out.

  “Sisterfucker. Yes, we used you for our benefit. So what? Everybody in this world does that. And after all, who the fuck are you to make a fuss, huh? Bloody scum. You enjoy respect because of us. You fucking wallet-thief. Don’t forget your roots,” he said and grabbed my chin. “You are a Chhara, a gutter froth. Nobody likes to touch you or glance at you. We admitted you in our organisation. Many people do what you do, but we chose you and rewarded you. You relished your life, didn’t you? You enjoyed women, bathed in alcohol, munched lavish food, and whatnot. And you meet that MLA and come and question us?” He slapped me and said, “Fuck off, your time is up.”

  ‘With my teeth and fists clenched and biceps bulging, I glowered at him, panting.

  “Take this bastard away and throw him in his Chharanagar gutter,” said Sunil. “Ay, motherfucker, if you want to live never dare to come near us,” he said, pointing his bleeding and shaking index finger.

  ‘They brought me to Chharanagar and threw me beside the drain. I rolled and stopped by the lazing pigs and dogs, who grumbled. Gaurang emerged from the dust cloud. He held my head by my hair and twisted it towards him. Grinding his teeth together, he said, “Ay, pig. Better keep our secrets concealed in your heart. If you dare to reveal it, souls will depart from your home. I hope you understand.” He pushed me to the ground, landed a kick on my chest, and huffed off in the jeep, leaving a dust cloud after him. The gatekeepers surrounded me. The dogs sniffed at me.

  ‘People at Chharanagar found me and carried me home. My mother trembled and wailed. I sought for our leader. He arrived.

  “What’s the matter, Vicky?” he asked.

  I narrated the entire story which jolted him too.

  “I intended to help you and never expected this. Why didn’t I follow up with Hamid Saheb?” he lamented.

  “Yes. I too should have contacted the MLA instead of pleading with those devils,” I said.

  “Let me speak to Sunilbhai,” said Vivek Uncle.

  “No, please. No. Those bastards ruined my life and my values. But help me for an important task.”

  “What is it, my son?” he asked.

  “I tremble to share this reality with my father. Please explain to him on my behalf?” I begged with my hands joined.

  ‘He held my hands and responded. “Sure, my dear. Your respect for your father deserves praise. And you have guilt and regret in you. A sense of shame for doing wrong. Believe me, Vicky, this will guide you unto the right path.”

  ‘I called Praveenbhai. “Saheb, VD ruined my life,” I snivelled and narrated my story.

  ‘He released a sigh. “God bless humankind. I had warned you to keep away from crimes, Vikram. But you blundered, my child.” He paused, and I sniffed. “I understand your situation. Now be careful and never repeat it. For any help, contact me,” he said.

  ‘My mother applied turmeric paste on my wounds and made me take rest.

  ‘The next day, we visited the prison and sought permission to meet my father. A staff member took us in. A deep regret consumed me and settled in my heart, besides guilt. I wailed for committing atrocities on innocents. Vivek Uncle held my right arm, and I trudged ahead, supporting my head on his chest. My cheeks flooded with tears.

  ‘We reached the meeting room. My father arrived. He opened his arms, and I raced into him. “Father,” I murmured and rested my head on his chest. I clung tight to him and wailed, and he rubbed my back. Deep moans rose out of me caused by the pain of abuse. Vivek Uncle also cried. After we’d spent ourselves crying, we finally wiped our tears. My father asked, “How are you, Vicky? How is your mother? And the outside situation?” My lips curled. “What’s the matter? What brings you here today?”

  ‘My stomach sank and I glanced at Vivek Uncle. He guided my father towards a chair and sat beside him. I sagged in shame at the wall. When Vivek Uncle disclosed my Naroda Patia escapade, my father beat his chest. At one moment, he covered his ears and banged his head on the table. My community leader explained to him my situation, but he threw his hands in the air. He punched his fist on the wall, groaning, and stomped inside. I did not have the courage to look up as I slowly trudged out.

  ‘Vivek Uncle and I visited the prison for the next two days, but my father refused to meet us at all. I kept burning from within.

  ‘We came on the fourth day again. The staff threw their tantrums, and we silenced them with a bribe. My father came out. I moaned and quivered in a corner. Our leader convinced him to empathise with me, to forgive and guide me to lead a better life. He focussed on my manipulation. A long silence prevailed, the silence of words, but our tears talked through. The vibrations of my father’s emotions exchanged empathy with mine.

  “He is in severe agony and needs your support,” said Vivek Uncle. “Please forgive him. He did that, intending our community’s benefit, but selfish people betrayed him. The outside world has wounded him. He is shameful of his deeds. Nobody but you can heal him, and you must do it,” he added.

  ‘Finally, my father relented. He pulled up his chair and sat beside me. Vivek Uncle sat on the other side.

  “Vicky, look at me,” said my father. I raised my head with eyes closed and tears shooting out. “One cannot blame his wrongdoings on others. You took the tribesmen to Naroda Patia in-person to eradicate it. You did it. The culprits mind-washed and manipulated you
for this heinous task. But you should have judged the right and wrong.” He grasped my arms and shook it. “Why did you destroy what you cannot create? You should have gauged your capacity before destroying. Can I make them alive after I kill them? Why did you not assess?” He paused and dropped my arms. “You finished them, and God will punish you for it. Forgiveness is not available in shops, but those whom you have hurt might forgive you. For your crimes, seek pardon from those you destroyed and displaced,” he said and remained quiet.

  ‘His words shred my heart. Regret stabbed me from within, and guilt clutched my throat. I sat motionless, with tears flowing. After a few moments, I spoke in a broken voice. “Father, I cannot bear this. I’ll commit suicide.”

  ‘A deep silence lingered again. My father lifted my chin. I stared into his eyes.

  “Never say and never think of suicide. Never disrespect your life or anybody’s life. Life is so precious that it must be lived. Ask the same question. Can you create another Vikram Chhara born to your same parents in Chharanagar? If yes, you might kill yourself, else you should never. Never destroy what you cannot create.” He moved away and said, “Everybody considers you brave; Vivekbhai and me too. But you are a coward who fears to face this world.” He neared me and stroked my hair. “You think suicide will free you from life’s troubles? There is no proof. Nobody knows what happens afterwards. The soul is immortal energy. It cannot be destroyed, only transformed. What if you downgrade for violating the principles of life cycles? What if you are denied peace and freedom? What if you fall into more severe troubles? Here in life, people are available for guidance. But post suicide, you’ll be alone to face the unknown and dreadful hardships. Suicide is never a solution to any problem whatsoever. All life’s problems have solutions, and one must seek them with courage and faith.”