‘Chocolates? She carried a bag full of sweets.’
‘She demands a different one. She also has pain in her belly and back. Your mom-in-law is calling you. Please come at once.’
‘OK. Coming.’ Hah. The pregnancy cravings.
I rushed to Santosh Uncle’s house. Ameeti sat amidst the splattered stock of the world’s best chocolates.
‘She doesn’t want any of it,’ said Sonam Aunty.
‘Give me yummy chocolate, Vikram. Right now...’
Yummy chocolate; besides being the world’s best? In Ahmedabad; at midnight? I scratched my head. Oh! O, my God... Oh my God... I tapped my head. Will it be that? Let me try. I whispered to myself.
‘Zaheer, I need your help. The petty shops sell typical local sweet named “Chocky”. We need that.’
‘At this time?’ Zaheer spread his lips.
I shrugged and said, ‘Else, you control Ameeti.’
He convinced a petty-shop owner to open his shop and brought a bundle of Chocky. Ameeti pounced on them and broke into the first one, savouring it. Santosh Uncle, Sonam Aunty and my in-laws chuckled gazing at her. My sister-in-law Sangeeta too grabbed a few. Zaheer covered his mouth to hide his laughter, and I pressed my lips to suppress it. I stayed back at Santosh Uncle’s bungalow.
I twisted on the bed at 4:30 am. My dream made a pleasant twist. The baby girl found me in her house and hid her chocolate. She smiled and offered it to me. I had dreamt the same dream a few days back, but the additional moments replenished my heart with peace. Munni held my knees, stood up, and pushed her sweet into my mouth. The same taste, scent, and love, I had experienced on that fateful day, consumed me. Gaping at her mysterious blue eyes, I nibbled at the chocolate. The dream played in slow motion. She beamed an immaculate smile, edged closer and hugged me. Her soft, small and spongy arms entwined my neck, her head rested on my left shoulder and body supported on mine. Her curly blonde hair fluttered with the gentle breeze hitting my cheeks. Consumed by her affection and smell, I closed my eyes. I embraced her as if she was my daughter, and experienced deep satisfaction. I cherished the moment for a few seconds and my dream ended.
I sat with my palms pressed on my chest. My heart pumped like an 18-year-old boy’s would after he kicked a ball. Blood gushed through my veins, and my organs functioned merrily. My mind became feather-light, yet vibrant. Munni’s image flashed before my closed and wet eyes. Clueless of my dream’s mystery, I considered it a blessing from the heavens and the baby’s soul. I hit the pillow and fell asleep.
I woke up at 06 am excited about my last night’s dream. I wandered about in search of nothing, because I needed nothing any more. The transformation from wanting to want nothing is the purpose of life. I had reached that stage of nothingness, but due to my ignorance, I overlooked it.
Ameeti woke up, and I helped her go to the washroom. She came out exhausted. I hugged her and encouraged her. We finished our breakfast, and I prepared to visit my sacred pilgrimage place.
‘I want to see your chocolate girl’s house,’ said Ameeti.
I stared blankly. Another pregnancy craving. But in this critical condition? Yet I accepted. My in-laws and Zaheer accompanied me. As we went from house to house, the Naroda Patia residents blessed Ameeti. She experienced pain but kept mum.
I carried Ameeti to Munni’s house. Imtiyaz Saheb welcomed us. We stepped in, and I pointed to her spot. Ameeti gazed around the hut.
‘Relax here. I’ll bring Mom and Dad,’ I said and went out.
My in-laws wanted to know the details of the riots, and the discussion engrossed us.
‘Amma. Come here, quick,’ yelled Sangeeta. We rushed to the house. Ameeti was moaning.
‘Ameeti, what happened?’ I screamed and lifted her head.
My mother-in-law tapped my shoulder and whispered, ‘Shhh. Calm down. Time to visit the hospital.’
Zaheer brought Santosh Uncle’s car, and they left. I stayed at Munni’s house. Imtiyaz Saheb offered me tea, and we chatted. I waited for the news from the hospital.
I headed to the well of death and rested. My mind scanned my life story. I peeped inside the well and for the first time, experienced the positive vibes. I joined my palms and prayed for the deceased with conviction. The wind blew hard, circled through the well and hit me. The fragrance of flowers invaded me. My heart, mind, body, and spirit enjoyed the bliss.
A minute later, my mobile rang. ‘Sweetheart Ameeti’ calling.
‘Hello,’ I said.
‘Hello,’ a shrilled voice pitched from the other end.
‘Who is this?’
‘Vicky Anna; it’s me, Sangeeta,’ she squealed with delight.
‘Oh, Sangeeta. Hey, are you jumping?’
‘Yes, I am; in excitement. You also jump in joy. Sister delivered a baby girl.’
My heart came into my mouth. An intense and overpowering chill spread around my body. Goosebumps flashed on my arms, and my skin tingled. The wind stopped, yet I experienced a gush of chilly breeze. The baby’s giggles echoed in my mind. Sangeeta spoke non-stop, and I drifted in space, detached from this world. My body froze, but my soul rejoiced. Tears flooded my cheeks. I visualised the child in my arms, her head resting on my left shoulder, and I swayed like her cradle.
‘Are you listening, Vicky Anna? Hello?’ Sangeeta shouted from the other end. After a while, I responded.
‘Yes. Yes. I am ecstatic. Yes. How’s Ameeti? I am fine. I’m coming there. I am delighted.’
‘Come soon and bring me a gift,’ she said and hung the phone.
I rubbed my face and wiped my eyes. The mysteries of my dreams resolved, and I understood the meanings of every dream stage.
I peeped inside the well of death. One beloved soul lay in, and another in my wife’s lap. The well’s energy embraced me to extend greetings. The Naroda Patia residents detected my happiness, camouflaged within my tears. I shared the news with them, and they cheered and jumped in joy. They greeted me and stuffed my mouth with sweets. And showered bundles of prayers for the new-born.
I informed Guddu. Confused about expressing his pleasure over my third girl child, he fumbled. He emerged out of the Chhara and Indian society’s belief and whooped over the phone.
‘Wait there. I’ll pick you up,’ he said and disconnected.
I received a call. The mobile flashed ‘Hon Home Minister.’
‘Hello, Vikram.’
‘Hello, sir. How are you?’
‘Fine. Vicky, listen. I am with PM Saheb. We have decided to form a separate “DNT Welfare Department” under the “Ministry of Social Justice & Empowerment.” All DNTs will come under it.’
‘Amazing. Thanks a ton, Saheb.’
‘We will appoint a suitable secretary and a team of experts from different sectors. And we need an Adviser to represent the DNT communities. PM Saheb suggests you, so I command you to be the Adviser for the DNT Welfare Department. Its Head Office will be in New Delhi and branch offices at Mumbai, Ahmedabad and Bangalore to start with. The formulation will take a few days. We’ll intimate you. Meet us in New Delhi,’ he said.
‘Humbled at your proposal, sir, and I accept it in your honour. I’ll meet you in a week. Thanks a ton, sir,’ I said.
Guddu arrived and hugged me hard, and I shared with him the DNT department news. We both hugged and joy flowed out from our eyes.
We rushed to the hospital. I embraced my daughters and showered them with affection. Sangeeta received her gift and guided us to Ameeti’s ward.
Ameeti’s family was a bunch of fair, educated and well-mannered human beings. My reality was exposed to them during last summer. We shifted to a new palatial Bungalow in JP Nagar 2nd Phase locality. After the house-warming, Ameeti, while arranging my cupboard, discovered the dangerous documents. She cornered me to disclose my truth. I pleaded with her to avoid digging my grave, but she insisted.
‘Fine. Hold your breath and listen.’ I shared my secrets.
She was bathed in sweat and slumped in my bedr
oom’s corner, numb. Her eyes reddened, and she caught a high fever. I arranged for a doctor to stay at home for her treatment. Next day, she escaped to her parent’s home with my daughters.
I failed to convince her. Her parents helped us reunite. I stayed at Udupi for ten days, and my chilling disclosures stumped them. They later empathised with me and appreciated my changeover. They encouraged Ameeti to accept me. Hah. Our society suppresses women, so they had no choice but to reunite us to avoid social stigma. She agreed. After the summer holidays, I brought them to Bangalore.
Sangeeta entered the room clapping. My in-laws welcomed us and greeted me. They applauded my phenomenal achievement of liberating the oppressed, and I apologised to each one for the sufferings. I asked Ameeti about her health. She flashed a divine smile.
‘Where’s the baby? I asked.
‘She is with the hospital staff for post-birth care procedure,’ said my mother-in-law. Hah. We Chharas never experienced it.
‘Vicky Anna, can you guess the baby’s features?’ asked Sangeeta. Everybody laughed out.
‘Yes. I have seen her in my dreams,’ I said. Hah. I had seen her in real, I said to myself.
‘Oh, is it? Tell me how she looks?’
‘A fair chubby girl, with a spongy body and curly blonde hair. And deep and mysterious blue eyes.’
‘Not exactly. No curly hair; and I haven’t observed her eyes, yet.’
‘Let her grow, and she’ll evolve as I described,’ I said. Sangeeta frowned, and we laughed at her. A nurse arrived and handed the little angel to her mother. Everyone darted toward the mother’s bed. My daughters and Sangeeta squeezed her spongy cheeks and body. They admired nature’s gift. I beheld her for the first time in real. Hah. The second time.
‘Who will name the baby?’ asked my elder girl. Ameeti and her parents turned towards me.
‘I’ll name her.’
‘Wow. Have you guessed the name? When will you name her?’ My younger one raised a few more queries.
‘Hmm. Yes. It’s decided,’ I said and lifted the new-born. ‘She is my daughter; a precious gift from the Creator. Please, no arguments over the name and timings. I’ll give her an appropriate name. If she dislikes it, she may change it after maturing. And I name her now,’ I said, holding her in my hand.
Everyone gaped at me.
‘I no more believe in religious rituals. She is alive and influential to the destinies of her parents and families. She is harmless and cannot be harmed until I am breathing. This day, at this moment and place, I, Vikram Chhara, her father, name her...’
Family members leaned their upper half bodies towards me. I brought the child close and whispered into her right ear. The baby lifted her cheeks and was smiling. I glanced at Ameeti with a glowing face and flashed my teeth.
‘I name her... Munni. She’ll bear the name, Munni Vikram Chhara,’ I said.
A deadly silence followed for a few moments, and the members erupted in joy. My youngest daughter covered her mouth with her fingers. I planted a kiss on Munni’s forehead and placed her near her mother again.
“Munni, Munni” chanted Sangeeta and bounced in ecstasy. My daughters jumped in delight. They clapped and shouted—"Munni, Munni” and Guddu joined them. The hospital staff rushed in on hearing the sudden spurt of sounds. My mother-in-law communicated the reason. The nurses narrowed their eyebrows and glanced at each other. “Eh. Naamakaran, the naming ceremony is held on the 12th day after birth. How can you break the custom?” they argued. My father-in-law handed them Rs. 1000. They ignored the ritual, congratulated us, and left.
I neared my father-in-law and sought his blessings. After a tight hug, he patted my back, clasped my arms and moved me back. He placed his right hand above my head and uttered the two precious words— “Khush Raho.” I gleamed with joy. I bent and touched his feet with my right-hand fingers, brushed my fingers on my eyes and lips, and kissed them. And pressed on my heart to absorb his blessings. I touched my mother-in-law’s feet and repeated the action. She stroked my hair and blessed me with the magical words— “Khush Raho.” I turned to Ameeti. Her gleaming mesmerised me. Staring at my girl, I imagined her growing up and offering me chocolates. The first time, I experienced the deepest and intense form of peace; it was tranquillity.
Chapter—40
The Realisation
From the next day, I followed the list of Godhra train victims. In my capacity, I provided them with the best support I could, and the praised and blessed me too.
Ameeti was discharged on the fourth day and was accommodated at Santosh Uncle’s bungalow. Her father and sister departed to Udupi, and her mother stayed back to help.
I received my appointment confirmation as an Adviser of DNT Welfare Department. I flew to New Delhi, returned after two days, and attended to the department’s chores.
After a week, I informed my plan about returning to Bangalore to Guddu. He blinked and loosened his body. He feared he’d lose his best friend again, but it was a harsh reality. I booked my flight for 20th March and instructed the airline staff to keep medical assistance handy for my wife and baby.
Guddu organised a farewell program at the playground in the late evening. The tribesmen trusted my security team. I delivered an emotional speech and members cried their heart out. I encouraged them to live life to the fullest and prove our worth. “We have earned our freedom, and none should misuse the opportunity, but succeed with hard work,” I said. I assured my all-round availability in case anyone needed any support. Many Chharas expressed their views and thankfulness for my services. Tribesmen queued up for endless selfies, which left my jaws and cheeks paining. The program concluded, and we proceeded to Guddu’s home.
As we entered his house, Guddu hugged me and sobbed. He would be alone again to shoulder all the responsibilities of the till-now oppressed tribe, with nobody to share his feelings. We had achieved a phenomenal victory, and thus I preferred a happy farewell. After all, I was leaving Ahmedabad and not the human form. And with technological advancements, it was easier to connect with me at any time. But Guddu grieved. He curled up on the sofa. He pouted like a petulant child with moist eyes as he stared at the floor. I started recalling a few funny memories, but he didn’t cheer up.
‘So Guddu fucker will bath in his choicest wines, huh?’ I whispered. He shifted his gaze at the wall. ‘Don’t peep into the bathrooms, rascal; you are a community leader now.’ He threw his head down. ‘And be careful, you asshole, if you visit a brothel. You are a celebrity now; the media will follow you, and your tapes will entertain the world.’ He gave me a blank stare. I tried a few more punches but nothing worked. He would settle in a few days or weeks, I concluded. I hugged him and patted his back.
Guddu whispered. ‘Vicky, what about the other 30 pen drives?’
‘Oh, the pen drives. Where’s the one that Ketanbhai threw at me at the resort?’
‘With me,’ he said, and skipped towards a cupboard in a corner. He picked up a metal container, pulled out a plastic-wrapped packet and opened it. There it was, the 64 GB powerhouse, the DNTs liberation gadget. I smiled and pocketed it.
‘What about the other 30, Vicky? Who are those people? What if anyone misuses or leaks it?’
‘Hah. Which 30 people?’
‘What?’ He grabbed my arm. ‘You warned Ketanbhai and Ramubhai that you have distributed copies to 30 people. I am asking about those people.’
‘Oh. I forgot to inform you.’ I pulled him close and whispered into his ear. ‘The Bangalore electronic shop owner, who sold me the pen drive, rejected my offer. So, I bought only one from him—this one.’ And I winked at him.
Guddu gaped at me and blinked. ‘What? Hey, what the hell! No extra copies and...’ Guddu fumbled. ‘Oh, fuck... You mean, there were no 30 people... around the... country. Only you and this pen drive?’ he asked with a slight gleam on his countenance. I showed him my middle finger and winked.
Guddu covered his mouth and finally started to laugh.
‘F
uck you, man. What the hell... I swear, you are a real asshole. Ha-ha-ha-ha.’
Guddu’s thundering laughter boomed in his house. He held his stomach, bent down, and banged around his room like a drunkard. I participated in his amusement. He reeled and fell, and I cared a damn to hold him.
His family rushed in to inspect what was going on. Laughter is contagious. His wife covered her mouth with her dupatta and her body jerked too upon seeing Guddu banging the floor and laughing. The kids clapped and joined him with shrieks. After a hearty laugh, they left chuckling.
‘Vicky, on my deathbed, my last wish would be to inform the truth about the pen drive to VD members and look at their faces. That will be a cherished moment,’ said Guddu, holding his head. And again, he burst out laughing.
After a few minutes, Guddu rose and hugged me. He tapped his fist on my chest and said, ‘Fucker; real fucker you are. Get lost now. I’ll miss you. And keep in touch.’ He pulled my cheeks and hugged me again.
I received a grand farewell at Chharanagar. My tribesmen waved, showering flower petals on me. The gatekeepers with gloomy faces assembled on the sides and followed me until the lane ended. I blew a kiss and left. At the bungalow, I slipped into my bed.
The next day, I paid my last homage of that trip to my Munni and all the victims. I passionately sought forgiveness again for my misdeeds. I exhaled a deep sigh and bid farewell to Naroda Patia and its residents.
Zaheer helped me load the luggage in the car. Santosh Uncle dropped us at the airport. En route, I glanced at the Taj Ummed hotel and prayed for the wicked soul to rest in peace. We boarded the flight. An exceptional trip ended.
***
Shankar received us at Bangalore, and we reached our home. My life changed. I lived a life people crave for but fail to experience as they are away from self-realisation.
My family’s affection intensified, and I provided them with the best of everything—including love and care. My workload increased but I experienced positive changes in my family and business. I kept my problems and worries away from them.
The Branded Criminal: In Search of Liberation Page 28
