THE GUT STORIES

This work is produced at the School of Environment and Architecture in the Monsoon Semester of 2022-23 by Prishita Kulkarni, Bharvi Shetye, Kavya Gada, Devesh Turakane, Janhavi Naik, Siddhant Gupta, Mayuri Naik, Shreyash Bharmal, Darshan Dedhia, Samkit Racca, Yash Mhatre, Nishith Parulekar, Gargi Somani, Dhanvi Shah, Sarah Lukhadia, Nishadh More, Dishita Galchat, Varun Shetty, Shruti Nikam and Vidhi Shah for the module on Storytelling and Urbanism.

SKIN

6

EYES

23

SPLEEN

35

MUSCLE

47

GUT

59

6

SKIN 1 Climbing through the blue tadpatris spread across the hill, Rani meandered through the density, briskly walking towards her home. She was familiar with the sound of the baby wailing. She immediately pulled the curtain and ran towards her toddler. Heavy rains poured throughout the afternoon while Rani prepared lunch for herself and her baby. She made sure that no piece of the glass bottle was laid on the ground before sitting for lunch. The air in the house was a mix of freshly cooked food, alcohol and rain.

“Aaj pan peun aala ka tu, ithe ektar paishyachi adchan, jagaycha prashna ani tu sagle paishe daaru var udautoys’’, Suresh flung the curtain behind him and fell into his bed, where he usually laid for the rest of the day without having any conversation. Unbothered by this routine, Rani quickly breastfed her baby and put him to sleep.

The next day, Rani dusted the sofa, washed the toilets and she found it tiring to clean Mrs.Oberoi’s large house. She paused for a moment and glanced at the cream coloured buildings all around. She quickly wrapped up her work and left for home, before Mrs.Oberoi asked her to stay for longer. Rani took her usual route, but was accompanied by two men who followed her with a tool box and a large door. She was greeted with multiple stares when she entered but then quickly started instructing the two men.

“Kay ga Rani, hey dogha kon aahet, ani ikde ka aalet?”

“Naveen darwaza lavaycha asel tila, pan Rani, kiticha milala darwaza tula?”

Rani continued to inspect the work and eventually answered, “5000 cha darwaza aahe, changla quality cha aahe, khup vel tikel.”

Her neighbours wondered and suspected Rani’s change in lifestyle.

7

They observed her changes, saw her wear better clothes than them, and didn’t hear her argue with her husband anymore as if he didn’t exist at all.

“Roz tar tya Suresh var ordat aste, hichya kadun kuthe aale yeudhe paishe? Ani gharat chota baal astana yeudha late ghari yete, kay karat asel ti? Apan pan ticha yeudhach kaam karto, mala tar kadhich milat nai yeudhe paishe.”

“Mi tar aiklay, tya Hiranandani madhe loka aaplya saglyancha gair faida ghetat.”

“Mhanje? Tula kay mhanaycha?”

“Rani ashe ghan kaam karat asel tikadchya purushaan barobar, ani mag tila paise milat asel.”

“Ohhhh! Mhanun tar ti tichya navryashi aajkaal bolat nasel, pan hila kay laaj nahi vatat? Amhala tichya porachi kaljhi ghyayla sangte ani mag hi sandhyakali hey sagla karun yete.”

Rani continued living like this in the absence of her husband most of the time, taking responsibility for her own house finances. She knew about her husband’s whereabouts from everyone around the slum, and she had heard all sorts of rumours but didn’t let them bother her.

Something else had struck Rani’s mind for the past 6 months, something that she heard about from her workplace.

“Toh aap bol rahe ho, ki woh ladki ne apne photos daal diye internet pe aur usko paise mile? Aise kaise photos dale usne?”

“Arey aise kaise batau Rani, she posted pictures of her breasts on OnlyFans, and she has some five thousand fans, so that is easy money really” Mrs.Oberoi said while scrolling through Instagram on her phone.

6 months after this conversation, Rani found herself on this app. She gained the confidence and validation from the men who she had never seen or met before, but they made her feel better than her husband. It became a routine where she regularly posted photos of herself, after breastfeeding her child and putting him to sleep. She had the entire afternoon to herself to carefully document her body.

8

Rani noticed that all the rumours around her husband suddenly ended, while it worried her, she was relieved that for once she didn’t have to hear his name.

People gathered around Rani’s house, listening to sounds of abuse and falling utensils. Rani came out of her house, purple eyed with her husband following her. He pulled her down the steps, physically abusing her on the way.

“Kay ga, hyala mahiti padla vatta, ti tikde kama la jaaun kay karte.”

“To tar, kadhich ghari asat nahi, mag ti kay karnaar?”

“Aaj kal ke ladkiya, yehi kaam karti hai, aur bechaare mardon ko phasati hai.”

2 Drowsily opening my eyes, I gathered myself after waking up from a heavy nap. I was still sleepy.

“Thoda vel jhop, mi bhaandi ghasun aale. Chaha banavte ani mag nigh gharatun.” Suman said.

“Nahi, Sethji barobar chaha pito mi.”

“Thik aahe.”

After trying to pull myself out of the bed, I walked drowsily towards the tap to freshen up, and completely woke up after I almost slipped.

I quickly took a bath and got ready for the day. I stepped out of the house with some peanuts in my hand.

I made sure that I didn’t slip from the oily and soapy stairs. Now that’s the most treasured walk, quiet lanes, cool breeze with trees moving their arms over me. I looked through the glass door, where I saw Sethji resting in a white pressed shirt and playing with a small kid. In the last few months, I never saw a smile on this man’s face, but today, a kid had finally changed this. As I entered, I witnessed Sethji take a picture of a kid with a chocolate.

9

“Woh kaun tha Sethji?”

“Arey, yeh mujhe raaste me mila tha, mujhe laga iski thodi madat kar deta hu, paiso aur school ke mamle mein.”

It felt nice to see Sethji being so kind and polite for once.

“Aur suno, aaj hum dukaan 5:30-6:00 pm tak band kardenge, mujhe bahar jana hai.”

With a big smile I said okay.

“Par sirf yeh baccha kyun? Special hai kya?”

“Sunil, woh jo zevar deliver huye hai, usko check kar aur godown ko saaf kar.”

“Waise Sethji, mein ek bacche ko janta hoon jiski aap madat kar sakte ho.”

With a smile on his face, he asked me to get a picture of the kid. Suddenly, Sethji’s phone started ringing. I tried reading the caller’s name, but he quickly picked up his phone from the table.

“Haan doctor, boliye.”

“Gada ji, aapko aane mein kitna time lagega?”

“Mein aapka hi intezaar kar raha hoon.”

“Ok, mein bas 30 minutes mein pahuch jaaunga, agar traffic nahi hoga toh.”

Sethji quickly wrapped up his things and asked me to close the shop while leaving. He quickly grabbed the kid, got into his car and left. I made sure he left, and quickly closed the shop.

Gada held the small kid’s hand and walked through the slippery pavement, making a way through the blue tadpatris. He met the doctor, and held the kid tightly, till the doctor took the kid’s blood sample.

“Yeh lo Gada ji, aapka 30th blood sample.”

“Thank you doctor.”

“Logo mai kuch badalav dikha? Injection dene ke baad?”

10

“Haa, results toh ache dikh rhe hai, 4-5 sample toh kaafi hi gajab kaam kiye.”

Pointing to the chart filled with images of kids and some notes, “Laal pin wale sabse jyada kaam karte hai aur peele pin wale sabse kam.”

“Badhiya” He gave him the amount and he slowly made his way out from the tadpatris.

“Daroj tar late yeta tumhi mag aaj evdya lavkr kasky ale?”

“Bas bas ata tuze tane nako suru karu, tula mahitiye aaj shethji ni ky kela?”

“Pratek veles vait boltat tenchya baddal, aaj kasky vichar baddale tumche?”

“Tyanni eka gareeb mulachya shikshanacha kharch uchlaycha vayda kela ahe.”

“Are waah, kiti chan.”

As Rani passed by, my wife said, “Baga tila kahi ghena dena pan nai a ata.”

“Bagitla ka tini kiti chan kapde ghatle hote.”

“Aplya sarvanchi pagar tar sarkhich ahe tar mag hichi rahniman evdi kasky baddali?”

“Ti ikde ky karte?”

After the morning routine, I went to shop. Handed over the image of a kid to him. Shehtji looked very happy.

“Kaha rehta hai ye?”

“Bas mujh se 4-5 kholi dur” “Thank you Sunil.”

He gave him a 100 rupee note.

I don’t know why he gave me a tip just for a picture of a kid!

11

3 ‘Paisa paise ko khichta hai’ a phrase across a market of investment.

Investment baniye ke khoon me hota hai chahe kisi se cheena ho ya legal trading karna ho, kuch aisa hi ek Gujarati parivar me bhi hone ja raha tha.

“Pramila ajni patrika lai avje toh joiye su haal che market ma modi saheb na raj ma” “Su vaat che mahino chalu thayo nathi ke akhi market leela ler ma che” “Are hu su kau chu paapa, apde invest kariye toh” “Ek rupiyo nathi apdi pase dukane dhyaan apo ane ghar ma tatya rakho.”

“Ek number kanjoos baap madyo che” in mind.

Vishal ek chote se Laminton road pe computer shop wale ka malik hai, ek middle class parivar jo bada maan moji tha.

“Kem baka, hu haal koi vaghar padyo share ma, thodo humne pan apo” “Arey jordar tip madi lya lala, apda Modi ji ae 12,000 na niche na chinese phone ban kari didha che, ane aano faydo apda mukesh bhaiye upadyo, navu 5G spectrum no chandlo emne madyo che ane ae 12,000 na niche na phone kadvana che jema 5G sim provide thase ane alag alag scheme avse” “Laya baki laya, Modi saheb jordaar vyakti lya boss” “Arey apda Gujarati business tycoon ae koi ocha khara” “Chal chal bhai hu nikdu chu dukane nai gayo toh bappa lai lese mari” Ye teen dost hamesha subah-subah Ghatkopar ke chowk ke pass wale otle pe bethkar baate karte hai jaise vyapar, nayi-nayi jagaho ke baare me aur khane ke baare me. Vishal ko ek vichar kabse sata raha tha, usse investment me bohot dilchaspi thi. Ek raat usne thaan li thi ki Dhanji bhai Jaweri seth ke pass jakar ek sauda karne wala tha.

“Kem cho zaveri bazar na king, su chale dhandho pani” 12

“Areeee avo avo kumar kem cho? Aje aa baju pasar thaya” “Haa aje sochyu Dhanji bhai na darshan karto avu, su bolo sethji kem cho? Tabiyat kevi?”

“Are waah waah saru kariy, tabiyat toh ekdum jor ma dhandho pan chalij rayu che. Ae tiniya! Ja chai lai aa, bol Vishal su kaam ma avu?”

“Are yaar Dhanji bhai tamne khali kaam mate madva avi saku?”

“Na na evu nathi raja bol bol kevi chale che dukan?”

“Humna thodu thandu che market thodi jarurat pan che paisa ni pan apde navi generation che investment chaltaj rakhvani, olu ke vaine ‘FLOW WITH THE TREND’” “Saras saras pan dikra aa ajkal na trend che ne thoda delicate pan hoye che, trend toh em change thaye che jem kapda, etle sambhadine vichari ne invest karvanu” “Ekdum sachi waat tamari kaka, are apde toh vaniya che apde calculations na matey aj jiviye che, pan sethji thodi tamari jarurat che agar tame naraz na thao toh” “Paisa jove che ne ?”

“Ha saheb thodi jarurat che” “Ummm….Thik che su scheme che ke” “Aaa thai ne waat “ Vishal Dhanji seth ke pass jaata hai unse mithi-mithi baate bol kar unhe scheme ke bare me batata hai. Dhanji seth ke pass se 5 lakh rupiye 30% saal ke vyaaj ke hisab se paise leta hai iss hisab se haar mahine 12500 usse mahine dene the, matlab saal khatam hone ke baad usse 6 lakh 50 hazar dene huye. Vishal ne investment karne ke bohot tarike soche the magar sabhi me waqt ki kami thi, usse quick money ki zarurat thi.

Vishal apne kisi rishtedar ki shaadi me jata hai ussi bich apne purane dost Viral se milta hai jisse business me loss hota hai. Vishal kehta hai ki usse kisi bhi madad ki zarurat ho toh usse kahe. Agle din woh dono uss hi chowk ke otle pe milte hai.

“Sambhad Viral, mari pase ek idea che, jo lala tane paisa ni zarurat che barabar? mari pase paisa che eme ghare padyaj hoye che have tare joiye toh tane 5 lakh 40 taka na vyaz par api saku bol” “Ummm…. Tari waat toh sachi che mane paisa ni bau zarurat che 13

ane tari offer pan sari che pan mane sochvano thodo time apis?”

“Jo, be divas ma mane ke taro su vichar che, pan ha ek vaat kai dau jyare laxmi chandlo karva avene tyare modhu dhova naa javaye” Vishal ne Viral ko puri kahani batai aur scheme ke baare me samjhaya. Vishal haar mahine 4,600 kamayega kyuki 5 lakh ke 40 percent ke 16,600 huye jo woh haar mahine Viral deta aur Dhanji se ko 12,000 dene huye. Ye rakam thodi choti hogi magar, issi cheez ko 30-40 logo ke sath kiya jaaye toh? Kaafi khatarnak aur mushkile aa sakti hai.

Vishal ko iss risk ke bare me pata tha par phir bhi usne nirnay le liya tha.

Ab iss confidence ko overconfidence me badal ne me jyada waqt nahi lagne wala tha. Dhandhe ke iss khel me ek chaal hoti hai ‘len-den’ yani agar kuch mange toh ussi kimat ki koi cheez jo aapke paas ho usse as a security girvi rakhni padti hai. Uss din Vishal bhi Dhanji seth ke pass kuch girvi rakhne gaya tha. Vishal ko investment me bohot hi interest tha, isse pehle usne kaafi baar investments kiye the, kahi shares me, kahi raw materials jaise gold chandi, tamba, pital adi, usne iss baar kuch purane shares ko girvi rakhne ka socha jiski kimat 5 lakh ke barabar thi.

Vishal ne Dhanji seth ko shares ke legal papers diye. Magar usse pata tha ki uske pass itne shares nhi the ki woh Dhanji seth jaise baaki ke 30 logo ko bhi utne shares girvi de sake isliye usne fraud ka rasta azmaya. Stamp duty papers ke xerox nikal kar usne legal dikhne wale documents banaye aur shares ke naam kar baki logo ko de diya the, iss baat se heran tha Vishal ki iss fraud ki badi saza usse mil sakti thi.

Ab tak sab kuch sahi chal raha tha, ek saal beet gaya tha aur kisi ko bhanak bhi nahi thi. Iss paristhiti me vyavhar, vachan aur sambandh behad jaruri hota hai. Jab aap par saval kiye jane lage uss waqt dheeraj aur behad atmavishvas se javab dena jaruri hota hai. Har prakar ki ginti karni zaruri hoti hai, ek chuk aur khel bighad sakta hai khas kar jab khel paiso ka ho. Vishal ne paise dekar aur lekar apna sara kaam samet liya tha. Parantu ab jo khel ke pase palatne wale hai woh Vishal ne kabhi soche bhi na honge. Ek saal ke iss jhoot ko chupane ke baad kahin se kisi ke kaan bhare gaye ki Vishal nakli papers ko girvi rakh paisa liye jaa raha tha. Iss afwa ko jankari me badalne me 14

jyada waqt nhi laga dheere-dheere sabhi iss baat se wakif hone lage.

Kahi se ye khabar Dhanji seth aur baki logo ke kaano me pohochne lagi. Shuruvat me Vishal ne badi chalaki se sabhi ko baato me behela diya, kisi ko rishtedari me, kisi ko dosti ke zariye. Mamla phir ek baar shant hone laga, Vishal iss baat se chintit hone laga ki kahi uski ye chal sabhi ko pata na chale isliye usne jin logo ko udhar diye the unhe paise wapis karne ki vinti ki.

“Kem cho Viral bhai?”

“Kem cho Vishal bhai? avo avo mahina ni peli tarik atli veli avi gai.”

“Are na re na ek problem thai gayo hato etla mate tamne keva ayo.”

“Are su thayu Vishal bhai, baa bapa ni tabiyat toh thik che ne?”

“Are na na apda Gopal ni daya thi emni tabiyat toh ekdum sari che, ee toh vaat evi che ne ke.”

Vishal ne Viral se kaha ki usse filhal uske 5 lakh rupaye ki behad jarurat thi uske liye woh akhri do mahine ka vyaz bhi maaf kar sakta tha.

Iss baat se Viral hairan rehe gaya usne socha ki Vishal ko itne paiso ki zarurat kaha se aa padi. Vishal ne kaha ki usne kisi aur se udhar liye the jisse chukane ka waqt aa chuka tha magar market down aur mandi ke karan woh utni rakam jama nhi kar paya. Vishal ne Viral se vinanti ki, ki usse paiso ki badi zarurat hai. Viral ne usse paise de toh diye magar jin jin logo ko Vishal ne paise diye the un sabke naam bahar ane lage. Logo ki nazre ab Vishal par ane lagi thi dheere-dheere afwao ki ek lehar Vishal ke jivan me iss taraf ane lagi mano tsunami ki leher mumbai ko le dubi ho. Logo ke kano me vishal ki khabre pohochne lagi.

“Ae ye dekh woh nakli stamp paper wala.”

“Bhai mene toh sunna hai ye aadmi fraud ke chakar me kai baar jail jaa chuka hai, aur court me toh sare hi judge ab isse pehechan ne lage” “Are apne aapko bada investor samajhta hai harami chori ka paisa rakhta ha” Kahi na kahi logo ki bate sach thi magar unn bato me keval adha sach hua karta tha. Vishal iss baat se nhi daar raha tha ki uske parivar wale kya sochenge balki ye ki uski wajah se uske parivar walo ko kya sunna padd raha hoga.

15

Afvao ka bhi alag hota hai kisi ki zindagi ujad ke rakh sakti hai toh kisi ki bana bhi sakti hai. Kahi na kahi iss baat ko bahar nikal ni hi thi aur woh din aa chuka tha. Sare lendar Vishal ke ghar dastak diye aur jor jor se Vishal ke naam ko pukarne lage. Kuch waqt tak darvaza nhi khola, magar jaise hi Dhanji seth ne darvaza thokne ki koshish ki Vishal ne avaz lagai. Kon hai kehekar puchne laga usse pata chal chuka tha ki sare log usse paise wasool ne aa chuke the akhir unke mehenat ke paise the jo Vishal ne apne dosto ko diye the. Vishal ne hath jodkar unse kaha ki me apke sare paise apko lauta dunga magar mujhe maaf kar dijiye. Logo ne Vishal ki ek na suni kyu ki jiss dastakhat Vishal ne logo ko diye the veger kanooni the aur iss baar jo logo ne than li thi ki agar iss vyakti ko chod diya gaya toh shayad ye paise leke bhag jayegi akhir ded crore koi mamuli rakum na thi.

Logo ne case kiya aur vishal ko salakho ke piche bhejdiya. Paise toh hasil ho hi jata magar baat vishvas ki thi. Chahe koi bhi cheez ke jariye aap business kare magar kanooni izajat aur kanoon ke dayre me hi kare. Vishal ko 6 saal ki saza sunai gai.

4 I looked into the mirror, staring at my salt and pepper beard. I carefully started trimming my facial hair into a stubble, and stared at my wrinkles. It was a daily routine to prepare breakfast for myself and get ready to go to the hospital.

Being a doctor never allowed me to have a life of my own. I’ve always been surrounded by dead bodies. Carefully slicing them open, to check their conditions, has given me more satisfaction than any materialistic thing present. Although the blue rashes on my body say otherwise. I needed my own ways to remove my sexual frustration after a stressful day, especially after a day with my patients.

I look over to my bed, where the body of a young 30 year old woman lies. She had passed away due to cutting a vein, while killing herself.

Her body was perfect, her bosom of the perfect size to grip onto, her perfectly shaped torso, too perfect to even resist. What a shame, I thought, that this body had gone to waste. I quickly move towards 16

her, one last time, and insert a vaginal tube inside her, and then penetrate myself into her. A good thing about fucking a dead body is that they won’t scream, moan or say anything. The locality was quiet as always, and no one had any clue about this. I always thought it was very easy to conduct these activities late at night, on the empty road.

My neighbours never bothered to come over to my place or ask, so it made the task easy.

After I finished, I cleaned myself and wrapped up her body in plastic and placed her in my cupboard carefully, making sure that she doesn’t fall out. I wore my track pants and shirt, tied my shoelaces and left my house. Staying fit was essential, to have a steady hand at slicing open my patients, operating on them and eventually taking them home. I usually went on runs to Powai Lake. I resided on an elevated landscape, with perfectly manicured trees, chopped grass, without any shit lying on the road, just how I preferred it. Smooth roads and wider footpaths made it easier for me to run quickly from my place to the lake. The part that I despised the most was the JVLR road, where the sound of the road made me go crazy, that I usually avoided as soon as possible and climbed the cross over bridge to reach the promenade on the other side.

The edge of the lake was filled with couples sitting at regular intervals, where they spoke, kissed, cuddled and stared at me. On that run, I encountered a woman, whose face I immediately recognized.

She was big on OnlyFans, and went by the name Rani. I had paid to see her explicit images on the app, and thought it was my lucky day to have bumped into her. I caught her staring at me and flirtatiously smiled at me.

“Maine tumhein dekha hai, uss app pe, par tum akeli, idhar kya kar rahi ho?”

“Bas aise hi ghumne aayi thi aur tum?” She said, twirling her finger around her hair.

We went on talking for a long time, and then she followed me home, where we hooked up. This went on for a few weeks. She waited for me near Hiranandani Hospital and followed me. Then we went to my place. I made sure to not remove any piece of clothing while having 17

sex with her. She questioned me once about it, but I lied saying it was an insecurity, and then she never pushed it.

5 6 saal badnami ke baad woh ghar aata hai, mayus aur thaka hara.

Vishal ko mayus dekh uske papa ne Vishal ko unke purane dost se milvane ki thani. Vishal aur uske papa Praful subah 10 baje unke dost ke office pohoche.

“Are avo avo Praful bhai, gana divas thaya tame dekhaya nathi?”

“Are mara vala mitra kem che tu, aa toh dukane thi fursat maale toh madu chu, aje vichar ayo apda radiy thi sauthi najik mitra ne madiye ane jo aa vaqte mara dikrane pan sathe lai ayo chu, mad mad aa che Vishal, ane vishal aa che maara bachpan na sauthi khas dostar Mr Bhadresh Gada. Ek successful businessman jemni Ghatkopar east na Rajawadi lane ma bau moti jewellers ni shop che. Bharti jewellers, Rasiklal jewellers, Sarnamala jewellers aa badhi market na king che.

Mr Gada naam thi odhkan che amni.”

Vishal Mr Gada se hath milate huye kehta hai, “Hi sir kem cho hu, muh Vishal Prafull Chedda” “Av av dikra bes bes, bolo su piso thandu gara” “Are na na bhadriya jaminej aiva che” “Atla varso pachi aivo che at least chai toh pi” “Ja Sunil 3 kadak rajwadi chai leke ai” “Bl bol praful su chale che kevi che tabiyat gharma badha ni” Praful bhai ne Mr Gada ko Vishal ke pure scam ke bare me bataya, Vishal ko koi naukri dene tayar nahi tha. Dukan bechkar unhone sare paise chuka diye the, ab gharme paise ane band ho chuke the isliye woh Mr Gada se unki madad mangne aye the. Kuch der baad Mr Gada ne kaha ki chinta mat kar Praful, Vishal apna hi bacha hai, me usse naukri pe rakh lunga aur rahi baat ghar ki toh tu chinta mat kar kuch paise abhi udhar rakh vyaaz dene ki zarurat nhi jab tere paas paise aa jaye mujhe lauta dena. Dono ne unka dhanyavad kiya aur Vishal ko naukri pe betha diya.

18

Vishal ko Mr.Gada ke saath kaam huye ek saal ho chuka tha dono me kaafi achi rishtedari ho chuki thi. Mr.Gada ko Vishal ke kaam karne ke tarike bohot pasand aye. Mr.Gada ek buisnessman toh the magar unke pass itne paise ate kaha se ye vichar Vishal ke maan me aya aur bato hi bato me Vishal ne kisi raat Mr.Gada se yahi sawaal kiya aur Mr Gada ne kaha.

“Dekh Vishal me sirf gehne bechkar ya business ke zariye sirf paisa nhi kamata, kyu ki itna bada empire banane ke liye bali chada ni bhi zaruri hoti hai isliye me bhi kabhi kabhi fraud aur crime me guss hi jata hu” “Magar ye baat kisi tarah bahar chali gai toh isse aapka bana banaya empire bikhar bhi toh sakta hai na, akhir me bhi inhi afwao ke jariye pakda gaya tha” “Me janta hu magar ese kaamo me risk lene padte hai aur waise bhi logo ko khush rakha jaye toh logo ka muh band hi rehta hai kabhikabhi mehmano ka muh band karne ke liye nasta dena padta hai” Vishal ko Mr.Gada ke harr dhandhe ke bare me pata chalta hai aur kyuki Mr. Gada ne uske pita ko kuch rakam diye the ghar chalane ke liye, Vishal chup raha.

Ek din Mr.Gada ko khyaal aya ki Vishal bhi fraud kar chuka hai aur usse paiso ke bare me kaafi jankari hoti hai isliye unhone Vishal ko ek kaam karne bheja. Kaam ye tha ki Sunil ne jiss bache ki details Mr. Gada ko di thi uss bache ko Mr Gada ke pass lana tha. Vishal bache ko lejata hai jo keval ek saal ka hota hai ghar par na maa thi na baap koi dhyan rakhne wala bhi nahi apne padosi ke paas chhod kar gaye the.

Vishal uss bache ko lekar Mr.Gada ke batai hui jagah pohochta hai.

Hazrat Shah wali dargah jo Vihar lake ke thodi hi dur chote se sunsan ilake me hai, Vishal bache ke sath uss sunsaan jagah poochta hai jisse dekh kar woh heran ho chata hai ki esi gumnaam jagah me Mr.Gada mujhe iss bache ko kyu lane ke liye kehe rahe the. Jungali ilake me basa ye adda kisi bhi ger kanooni kaam ke liye behad sahi jagah thi, aspas koi log nahi rehte the aur pass hi me ek bada sa talab jo taskari ya kisi cheez ko chupane me kaam aa sakta tha. Uss adde par phochke Vishal chauk gaya kyuki uss chote se bangle me kaafi sare medical 19

equipments jaise bed, injections, blood samples, glucose bottles aur kaafi sare ese aujaaz the jo kisi hospital ya medical labs me paye jate hai. Vishal, kehne ke mutabik doctor ko baccha saup deta hai aur ek package jo Mr.Gada tak pohochana hai woh le kar chala jata hai. Mr. Gada tak ek sample pohoch jata hai jisme ek khoon ki bootle hoti hai jis baat se Vishal bilkul anjaan tha.

6 Dr.Arjun was a handsome man, in his early 50s. His age never bothered me, he was more well-mannered than any of the men that I had encountered in my life. We also had great sexual chemistry and our physical interaction had started to increase. He always appreciated how beautiful my body was and how I looked. One day he noticed me looking at myself in the mirror, worried. I had mentioned my desperate attempts to stop my face from having a single wrinkle. The following day he mentioned something very weird and strange.

“You can keep your beauty alive by injecting something in yourself.”

“Are you serious? Mein ispe kaise bharosa rakhu?”

“Haan yaar, woh procedure doctors hi karte hai, so don’t worry” His suggestion kept ringing in my head. I went home and started to research about it. I quickly clicked on the link of a clinic’s page, where it suggested the prevention of ageing by injecting the blood of young children. At first I thought it was just a hoax, or means of making money. But after looking at some of their results, I wanted to give it a try.

I asked Arjun about him, “Do you know anyone who can help me with the ageing process?”

“Ah! So you’ve finally made up your mind? Ek ladka hai, Vishal kakre, uske sethji iss sabka business karte hai” “Tum Vishal ko kaise jante ho?”

“He had recently visited the hospital for some materials. Maine usko pucha usse yeh sab instruments kyun chahiye the. Fir usne mujhe uske sethji ke baare mein bataya” “Are you sure I can trust him?”

20

“Yes yes you can.”

Arjun cleared my doubts and assured me that the procedure was safe. I contacted Mr. Gada, he enthusiastically asked me to visit him.

The next day, I visited his shady godown, where I was injected with young blood. I thanked Mr. Gada, and left for Arjun’s place. I started removing my clothes, to take a bath, when I suddenly noticed bluish purple spots all over my body. I panicked, and called Arjun immediately to ask him why this had happened. He replied calmly, but his eyes said otherwise.

“I think it might be because of the blood that you recently injected. I will get you tested as soon as possible.”

“Are you serious? Maine tumhare bharose par yeh sab kiya tha” “Lets go to Gada right now, usko puchte hai usne kis bacche ka khoon liya tha, don’t worry we will get you treated” I immediately contacted Mr.Gada and asked him when I could meet him to discuss this. Gada was in complete denial and very confidently told me that his blood samples were completely safe and that he had been doing this for years without any issue. He also suggested we come to his godown, to have a look at all the blood samples. It was where he had photos of all the children, from whom he had got these samples.

When Gada showed me the child’s photo, I was left dumbstruck. I discovered that I had been injected with the blood of my own child. *****

21

22

EYES What usually would be a sunny morning, had become a gloomy day.

The dark grey clouds were just about to burst and pour. A lady in her black suit came running out of a tall building and waved to stop a kaali-peeli. A few passed by but none stopped. Annoyed, she took her phone out of her sling and booked a cab. *Your ride is 5 minutes away* “Madam , Apka location kaha ka hai?”

“Ballard estate” “Ballard estate me kaha?”

“Mint road.”

“Theeke, me apke location pe 10 minute me aya” Drops of water started blurring the screen of her phone. She quickly put her phone in her coat’s pocket and waited. A white Wagon R arrived and stood at the corner. *Your ride is here* “Madam OTP dena” “8756” *Your ride has started, you will reach your destination by 9:37 am.* The driver raced straight and stopped at the red light. He looked at the lady from his rearview mirror and asked, “Aap gana sunna chahogi?

The lady kept gazing out of the frosty window, she had deliberately ignored what he had just asked. *Turn right on Dr. Dadabhai Naoroji road. * *Rerouting* “Aap ne wrong turn le liya , aapko right lena tha “ “Uss road pe metro ka kaam chal raha hai toh ye apko jaldi pahucha 23

dega “ The lady felt a vibration near her waist, she instantly picked up her phone.

“Hello, kya hua ? ……..Theeke me jald hi pahuch jaungi “ The cab driver moved his gaze from the road ahead to the rearview mirror and looked at her. The lady noticed him looking at her. She then shifted closer to the door and gazed outside the misty window.

The stairs of the Asiatic library were dotted with umbrellas. Men and women were strolling through the footpath, trying to avoid getting wet. As he drove further, the street had become peaceful, and the noise of the city bustle was replaced by a dead street with cars parked.

The lady now knew she was in the Ballard estate area. *Your destination is on the left.* *Your ride has ended, You need to pay 138Rs.* The lady lifted her dripping umbrella from the car floor and asked “Gpay chalega ?”

“Nahi, book karte time toh payment mode cash hi tha toh aap cash hi dena “ With her umbrella in one hand and her phone in the other, she quickly searched her bag and then handed over a two hundred rupee note to him.

“Madam ye dekho , ye note toh yaha se fatta hua hai“ Her phone started vibrating again.

“Hello, me bas pahuch hi gayi hu I’ll be there in 2 minutes”.

She kept her phone aside and then handed over another note and some coins to the driver.

24

“Madam jaldi utariye dusre location pe jana hai . Late hua toh fine lagta hai” The lady zipped her purse, opened the door, put up her umbrella, and left. The driver raced his car ahead, stopped at the junction, and turned behind. Her phone was lying on the leather seat, he smirked.

He reached the back seat to grab the phone and tried to unlock it. *Failed attempt.* He anxiously took out his phone and swirled his fingers over the keypad to dial a number, swung his key to start the car, and raced ahead.

The car jerked as a flock of people crossed the road, The BEST bus kept honking and the crowd had now reached the end of the road. As he headed towards Manish Market, the roads started getting narrower and narrower. Vendors sat on the footpath, hawkers walked and yelled on the roads, and thousands of people carried their polythene bags and strolled, like the entire road belonged to them. The driver’s gaze moved right and left to find a good parking spot. He swiftly changed the gear, honked, and parked his car in a tight space, between the two cloth vendors.

He got down and disappeared into the crowd. After a while of pushing and nudging, he reached the shop. Strings of plastic mobile covers were hanging at the entrance of the shop. The counter had an endless number of mobile phones, but none of them looked new. A bright white light bulb lit up the dark and dingy interiors, a man sat on a rusty wooden chair in the shop. From mobile phones to computers and tablets, he could bring any broken device to life. People called him a doctor of sorts.

“Bade dino baad” “Kya kare, jabse Ola ke liye kaam shuru kia hai , bhade ke upar bhada milta rehta hai“ “Acha hai , par aaj yaha kaise ana hua” “Koi customer aj gaadi me phone chhod ke gaya, isko bas khol ke bech dalo, kuch extra paise mil jayenge “

25

The shopkeeper had his own way of keeping his mundane life interesting. He would often collect the phones of his lady customers, keep them in his shop for a few hours and bug them. He would then return them back and stalk their life in his free time. Once, after being swept by a lady’s beauty, he had morphed a photo of her on the naked body of a pornstar. He then printed this image and stuck it behind the door of his rack. Wanting to share this thrill with his friend, he said, “Ye phone toh khul jayega, par isse acha tareeka batau?”

The cab driver now looked into his friend’s eyes. There was a sense of debauch in both of their eyes.Suddenly the phone rang, A tensed voice spoke from the other end, “Hello!”

“Haa, kaun?”

“Mein apna phone aap ke Ola me bhool gayi hoon.”

“Haa madam, phone mere hee paas hai.”

“Kya aap mujhe Ballard estate laake de sakte hai?”

“Ji, abhi me dusre passenger ko chhod raha hu, 20 minute me mujhe aap CSMT Station ke yaha miliye, mein aapka phone lauta dunga.“ “Thik hai main bas phoch rahi hu.”

“Chalo main niklta hu.”

The cab driver drove his car to the CSMT station, to meet the woman.

He leaned forward from his seat and looked at her with his male gaze.

He then handed over her phone.

“Ye lijiye madam , aapka phone” “Thank you” *One new notification from Jagdish* *Where are you?* *Near CSMT station, did you manage to find that?* *Yes* *Okay, I will be there in five minutes.*

26

Jagdish, also known as Jaggu Bhai, was a local postman who delivered letters across the neighbourhood. He sat in the general post office from 9am-2 pm and then strolled through the city with his beige sling.

He had door-to-door information about people’s whereabouts.

“Mr Rathi was at home yesterday, the lights in his house were switched on till 5 in the morning. A lady wearing a Maroon dress, with high heels and puffed hair left the building around 6 am. Mr Rathi then left his place at 8 am and took his car. Today I went to deliver a bunch of letters to his building, and the lady on the third floor told me that Mr. Rathi had a huge fight with his wife the day before.”

“Okay, did you manage to get any photographs?”

“No, I will try to get them today” The lady put her phone in her coat pocket and walked towards the subway.

“5 pens for Rs 20, 3 shirts for Rs 500, Mobile covers at Rs 100 only.”

Dark and humid interiors of the subway with silver lights hanging down from the ceiling had clusters of people bombarding the crunched space. As she climbed the stairs, the screen moved up and down and vision was blurry. Suddenly, the screen was flashed with natural light with a better quality of vision. Fast-paced cars swiftly moved through the wide concrete roads. She kept her phone in her sling and kept walking. The vision was now all black.

“Aye, abhi kuch dikh kyu nahi raha?”, the cab driver asked worriedly.

“Arey, Madam ne shayad apna phone bag me rakh diya hoga isliye“ replied the shopkeeper.

After about 40 minutes, the computer monitor projected some movement.

“Dekh, ab sab kuch dikh raha hai” The cab driver instantly blew off his cigarette and entered the shop to sit next to the shopkeeper. The lady, exhausted, finally reached her

27

home. A large wall with some photographs stood next to the tall floorheight windows that overlooked the city. The vision of her phone was very clear. The lady took her phone and put it on her charging stand.

The vision was disturbed. A network of wires was visible. Then a series of cream-colored walls of the bedroom were visible through this network.

She entered her room, gently clutched her hair into a bun, and then took off her coat. After a few minutes, she entered her room in her towel.

“Tujhe faida chahiye tha na, ye dekh faida” said the shopkeeper. The driver smirked and stared at the screen.

The vision was black now. The next morning, she stood at her usual spot and waved for a taxi. This time she made sure she held her phone tightly.

The vision was finally clear. Three women and six men were sitting in their black blazers and white neck bands surrounded by Piles of sheets, documents, and certificates, that were lying on the table. A bunch of photographs were pinned on a large wall. The lady sat on her rattan chair and kept her phone aside. The vision was clear, but only the ceiling fan was visible.

“Madam, chai?” the peon offered.

The lady nodded.

After a while, a shrill voice from the corner of the room said “Let’s, meet in the conference room, please” The lady got up with some files in one hand and her phone in the other and headed towards the conference room. The vision was now clear. A series of documents and notes were kept on the table, and a discussion took place in the room.

“Mr. Patil just transferred the amount in our account.”

“We need to manipulate this evidence before the court hearing tomorrow.“ “It is very important for us to win this case.“ “The other team has someone to testify against us“ 28

“Don’t worry, we have some information to hold against them.” the lady assured.

The two men sitting in a shop somewhere far away from Ballard Estate were shocked.

“Ye dekh, bade padhe likhe log bhi paiso ke jaal me fas jate hai “ As the clock struck one, the dead streets of Ballard estate started getting crowded. Men and women wearing their shirts, coats, sarees, and skirts circled around large multicoloured umbrellas. In the shade of these umbrellas stood some food vendors. Covered in sweat, they quickly moved their hands to pick up some puri bhaji and served them on shiny steel plates. The lady and her colleagues were standing under the shade of one such stall. Jokes and giggles burst as this group of colleagues chew their food.

“Kal tu hamare liye teri famous Biryani leke ana “ a loud voice said.

Tapping on the back of his friend’s head the shopkeeper said “Ye kya dekh raha hai, ismei kya maza hai” and they both laughed.

The lady, along with her group of colleagues, reached the office. The office was located in a grey stone building called the Prime chambers.

The Arches of this building had seen the lady working in the office for about six years. She was a forty-two-year-old who was one of the senior- most employees in the office. It was also said that once Mr Singh, the head lawyer of the firm retires, she would sit on his chair.

She rotated the doorknob to enter the washroom, entering another space sealed by a wooden door, she unbuttoned her pants. The two men sitting in a small shop, in the dense network of Manish market were drooling over this visual.

Every afternoon, the driver would cancel his Ola rides and meet his friend to watch these visuals. It had become a routine for them to creep over images of women, both young and old, and trace their

29

lives. The back of his rack door now had a huge collection of morphed images and posters.

One evening, the immense downpours of Mumbai city had completely stopped all the operations in the city. The bucket of wet umbrellas kept outside the office became empty as her colleagues left for home.

Unbothered by this, the lady sat on her rattan chair, sipping her usual lemon tea, scrolling pages of some thick document booklet.

One new notification, Group chat - Kal tu teri famous biryani leke ana Only two fans swirled in the entire office, one over the lady’s head and another at the far corner of the room. The lady now got up. Pointed heels that adorned her feet made a sharp noise until she reached the corner of the room. She tapped on her colleague’s shoulder.

“What are you still doing here?”

After a small engaging conversation with him, the two left. As they stepped outside the office, a dark empty street stood in front of them.

Heavy stone masses that surrounded them were completely dark, it seemed as if there was a power cut in the city. Oblique strands of the intense downpour blurred their eyesight. No man, no road, nothing could be seen. It was just the two of them.

The situation was completely different in the other part of the city, Inspite of the heavy downpour, the streets of the Manish market were booming with the crowd. People nudged each other making way to walk through the dense network of umbrellas. Street vendors sat on the dirty muddy footpath to sell their goods, the dusty steel shutters of almost all the shops were open. In one such shop, two friends were bawling their eyes at the screen.

“Madam aur sir toh akele hai, pata nahi ab kya kya hoga “ “Aj toh apni aish hai, ab toh asli maza shuru hoga” they laughed in perversion .

30

The moist sound of her heels and his shoes were the only two sounds audible. A flashing streetlight finally lit up the space, trees projected their shadows on the footpath, and some part of the road could now be seen. At the corner of the street, a small restaurant was open, faint music played in the background.

“Bhaiya ek plate biryani dena” the man said The waiter now disappeared. Biryani was now served. A few seconds later, A loud scream was heard. When the waiter came outside, no one was there. An empty plate of biryani was lying on the table.

The waiter felt a strong blow at the back of his head. A hammer smeared with blood fell on the floor. Along the stream of the flowing blood, lay a pair of Black pointed heels. A silhouette in the dark dragged the two bodies. The bodies stumbled over the uneven stones of the footpath, a finger fell off.

The silent streets heard the barks of a thousand dogs, but not even one of them could be seen. At the junction of the road, a few dogs appeared, they notoriously ran behind the silhouette. They aggressively stabbed their canines into the dragging bodies, nibbling on the flesh.

The stream of blood now started flowing faster, It merged with the rainwater to form a puddle.

The silhouette turned, A grey stone building called prime chambers stood ahead. Swiftly sliding the metal catch, it entered inside. The silhouette continued dragging the two bodies to the pantry. A few seconds later the scanner at the end of the office lit up, the paper shredder was also on.

Pieces of flesh lay on the transparent screen of the scanner, a warm white sheet came out of the printer, and strings of flesh lay inside the dustbin beneath the shredder. The silhouette picked up these pieces and smirked.

The next morning, the air in the office had a strange smell. The floors were all sticky, Mr Singh, yelled at the sweeper.

31

“Aj tune ache se saaf nahi kia”.

As soon as it was lunchtime, the lady wearing her black pointed heels walked toward the pantry. She opened the fridge door to take out a box of biryani. As she heated it up in the microwave, the foul smell grew stronger. A few minutes later, Men and women in their black coats gathered around the box of biryani and said, “Arey waah, tu finally aaj apna famous biryani leke ayi .” *****

32

33

34

SPLEEN The day was Friday, Vicky was returning home with frown lines on his forehead from the Municipal School, where he studied, after being expelled from there. Dogmatic and dreamy, he was often the mastermind behind all the notorious acts that he and his friends performed.

The plans he executed were very well thought of and strategized for his age. Whenever his plans failed, he was blamed for everything.

Vicky never cared about that fact. He was a thrill seeker, one driven to conquer new challenges,to make plans to experience different things life had to offer. He was someone who wouldn’t fear the risks and the consequences that accompanied his acts. Sometimes he would get caught, but in most cases, he was successful in executing them. He treated himself with a cigarette whose incomparable savour and scent swept a feeling of happiness in his soul, every time he succeeded in executing a plan.

Vicky had planned to mix alcohol in his teacher’s drink, who had mocked his notorious friend’s mother, the day before. The alcohol was sourced by shoplifting from a wine shop. Vicky was not ashamed of what he had just done. Instead, he was proud of himself for making the teacher lose control over her steady walk and make a fool of herself in the school premises. Shaky laughter could be seen on Vicky’s face after executing his plan. Vicky hated school, the reason being his teachers always punished and shouted at him. He felt miserable all the time and not attending school kept him away from having to deal with it. However, he was worried about his future.

“What will happen next?” What am I going to do in my life? I’m just 16 and I have nowhere to go.” “ I wish my parents were alive today.”

A tear rolled down his eye, as he walked towards the Shree Shivshankar Mandir’s bhojanshala to eat the same dal-khichadi that he ate every day. He also spent some of his nights over there.

Vicky was a clever guy,someone who knew about everything that came under the sun. All his fellow friends often praised his versatility 35

in worldly matters.

Vicky was on edge about what he could do to make his ends meet. After being expelled, Vicky was always at his adda which was a pocket space created in between the self-built settlements of Kandivali village. The form of the adda was the uneven dumping of the broken furniture, punctured tyres, electric appliances, and torn fabric of the villagers. It was located at the junction created by the intersecting streets of the village. The village had this fish market - the street of odour - someday a sweet, ocean-like scent of the fish slowly turning into a pungent fishy odour and the raw, mild smell of the chicken turning into a sour, sulphur-like odour with days. The village consisted of the settlements of the Christian Kolis, the Bhandari Kolis, and the upper caste people who worked as railway officers earlier.

Being home to different communities, each had its own culture and religion, the villagers had no grudges with each other. A church on one end, and different Hindu temples in between a network of gullies with houses placed one next to the other, and small open spaces that were used by the people to keep their furniture, hang their clothes, and gather to chit chat, made the village.

Around the swamped objects, where the sun rays seemed to be scattered through the leaves. Beneath a sky slowly tinting with orange, Vicky and his neighbourhood friends were spending some time conversing. They remembered the good old memories when they played games like Stop and Party, Pakda-Pakdi, etc. whilst they would occupy every corner of the street, run over the G.I sheet roofs, and dive into a pond next to a Shiva temple. Vicky said, ”Do you guys remember? that day? when I was running over these roofs and suddenly one of them broke and I fell inside Kamla Aunties room where I saw her husband without pants.”

“Hahaha. And also when we were running all over the village to collect dry wood for the Holi Pooja, igniting it all in the store room itself.

Remember all the bashing we got by the villagers after it?” his friend replied with laughter.

Vicky took a drag of his hookah his friends had arranged and every36

body started laughing at what he said. They were also consuming whiskey to distract themselves from the reality of life.

The batch of teenagers from different settlements had a certain kind of connection with each other and each of them had their addas in the area where they lived. The whiskey made them lose control over themselves in no time. They were dizzy. Like riding a merry-goround or walking as fast as they could in small, tight circles. Vicky’s throat was burning as if he ate a jalapeno and swallowed something hot over it. With every sip he drank, he felt the burn from his mouth to his stomach. His legs were wobbly, head was spinning and all his pride and inhibitions were gone. Vicky enjoyed this feeling of dizziness as he had a bad day. He was constantly thinking about the day and his value on this planet. ”So what’s next? Is this the end of my life? Was I just born to get expelled from school? Schooling was never for me. I know I can do more in life apart from going to school.”

All of a sudden an idea struck Vicky’s mind that he planned to execute the very next day. He wanted to repeat the mischievous act he had just performed, but now at a larger scale. He was dreaming of a wobbly world - where everyone is walking unsteadily with their head spinning.

“Why don’t I mix the alcoholic drinks with other substances, very discreetly, in the dark.”

Vicky had a wicked smirk on his face while thinking of his dreamy world where all heads are spinning. He introduced his plan to his gang, and they all cheered loudly at this plan. They were so loud, they woke the villagers from their sleep. A police van that passed their adda ,started chasing Vicky and his gang, but they all managed to hide in the corners of the street, without being caught.

Vicky had a mild headache, a possible unknown bruise, a sore body, a general feeling of fatigue when he woke up the next morning. He was restless. Constant thoughts about his plan were running in his head and he wanted to execute it desperately. He needed that thrill, it would make him feel good. He had a meeting with his group of trustworthy 37

people , and he explained his plan to them. They were all from different parts of Kandivali. Most of them suggested Vicky to go and meet Santu Bhai, who was admired by many people he met.

“Are you Santu bhai?” Vicky asked in a low pitch.

“Ayy chotu, come here and tell him who I am.” A thick voice replied.

A kid playing around said: “He is a hero, he is a superhuman. The most dashing and intelligent person in our area. He is our beloved Santu bhai.”

Santu Bhai was popular and everyone’s favourite as he often performed a lot of social work and helped people in need. At the same time, he was overconfident and cocky, who believed he was the most important person in Kandivali. He had all the necessary contacts and information that were essential to execute Vicky’s plan.

“Vicky, my boy! How stupid are your school authorities to not know and acknowledge your intelligence, and simply expel you from school? Don’t worry! I am like an older brother, don’t be afraid! Call me whenever you need and go ahead.” Santu said.

“Thankyou bade bhaiyya. Can we have a cup of tea at your place? I just want to stroll around your area and talk to you about the plan in detail.” Vicky replied.

Santu Bhai resided in a dense fabric of settlements made with rusty galvanised sheets. One could feel the warmth in that area due to the rustiness of the machinery. Ekta Nagar consisted of numerous selfbuilt settlements which were home to most of the workers working in the industrial estate area of the Charkop, located adjacent to it.

The settlements were located very close to each other and had narrow gullies passing through them. One could sense the density of the area because of the constant hammering sound coming from the smallscale industries, the unpleasant odour coming from the drainage lines that surrounded the settlements. When one stands on the main road over there, they can see the very dense fabric of self-built settlements on one side and the tall thorn-like buildings on the other side. The 38

people residing there washed their clothes and utensils in the gullies in between their houses.

Vicky met Raja, Santu Bhai’s younger sibling, who was a hardcore alcoholic. He would chug a bottle of alcohol wherever and whenever he wanted without fearing anyone. He was always drunk, because of which Santu Bhai always kept an eye on him.

Later that day, Vicky, Santu Bhai and Raja thought of visiting all the necessary places and exploring all the possibilities which would obstruct the execution of Vicky’s plan .Varied contents would be added to the alcohol to decrease its value. The only thing Vicky could imagine was drunk people making chaos all around the streets of Kandivali.

The next day, before the sun was up, Vicky left his home to meet Santu Bhai and Raja. They met at Kandivali Railway station, where they merged with the crowd. Firstly, they bought a lot of alcohol from various wine shops around the station. They preferred to buy Vodka, as it was cheap and had enough alcohol content, to make everyone feel dazed and dizzy. Raja, as usual, without any fear, picked up a bottle from the crate and chugged it down on the street itself.

Vicky and Santu Bhai stacked up the original bottles in the dilapidated buildings near the station. These buildings were 100 years old. No one dared to enter them because some assumed that they were haunted, while others thought that these buildings would fall anytime soon.

Raja drowsily started asking questions while walking in a zig-zag manner, “This sounds very fishy, can you tell me the reason? Is there an emergency?” Laxman asks in curiosity.

“Where are we?Have you kidnapped me? Do you know who I am? I can make your life a living hell ” Just keep your mouth shut, you spoiled brat, follow us in whatever we do quietly “, said an agitated Santu.

They bought all the equipment they needed for their task, bottle lid 39

openers, stickers etc. were brought from the markets around.

He then headed towards Ekta Nagar. Vicky knew how to bribe people. As he walked past the Datta Mandir road and the village, he asked the lab assistants and chemical experts of the Chavan Hospital to help him in his task. He bribed them with either free alcohol or money. As he moved to Ekta Nagar, Vicky walked towards the chemical factories, where he tried to convince the factory workers to work for him.

He promised them a share of the profit he and his team would make.

All they had to do was to dilute the alcohol with methanol or ethanol and flavor it. He decided to flavor the drink because it would get more addictive and people would buy it on a larger scale.

Amidst this chaos, Vicky found out about the financial problems of the workers who lived there. Some of them were in desperate need of jobs. He promised them with whatever they needed and gave them some money.They had no problem believing him because they had learned that Vicky was like a younger brother to Santu Bhai.

“Santu bhaiyya, What is this? Is this the way you take care of your younger sibling?” yelled Raja.

“You never fulfil my needs. I never feel happy to have you as my brother”, he added. “I am fed up with drinking this boring alcohol every single day.”

“You will never understand what my body wants. Why would you? Do you even care?” Raja began to wail.

Santu retorts, ” Keep your mouth shut. It’s my mistake that I never stopped you from drinking alcohol, that’s the reason you have turned out like this.”

“I don’t want alcohol anymore Bhaiyya. I need something better.”

Santu was baffled. He asked in a low tone, “What do you want, Raja?”

“I want…. I….”, Raja paused.

40

Santu Bhai repeated, losing his cool, “What do you want Raja?”

Drunk Raja, looking at his brother’s face, said in a low voice, “I want drugs” Santu Bhai slapped Raja tightly. Raja got back to his senses all of a sudden. He walked away angrily. Santu Bhai was worried for him, but he paid no attention at that moment. Santu Bhai was always against consuming and trading drugs.

Vicky stood aside, deep in his thoughts.

“What did he just say? Drugs! Sounds…interesting?... What if?....

Why not…?” , he wondered.

Vicky thought of talking about his idea with Santu Bhai, but the sound of the slap was holding him back. He took a deep breath and said , “Santu Bhai, I think, what Raja said about drugs.”

Vicky constantly looked at Santu Bhai’s face to check if he was interested in listening to the plan. Santu Bhai stood with a blank face.

Vicky continued, “Maybe we could spike up the alcohol we sell, with some kind of drug, to make it more addictive. More people would get affected by this, plenty of them would lose control over them and we could earn more money.”

Santu Bhai stood silent for a minute and thought about it. He didn’t seem angry, which brought a smile to Vicky’s face.

Santu Bhai said, “This sounds interesting, but I don’t know what it would do to the consumers. I just don’t want anyone to face any serious consequences or to die, because of whatever you do. Also, if you get caught, it would be very difficult for me to get you out of the prison.”

Vicky thought for a moment. He thought about all the consequences that would follow if he got caught while doing whatever he had in his mind. The next moment, he saw in his eyes, the dazed and dizzy 41

world and the changed life of people around him.

Young Vicky, in a confident voice said, “Santu Bhai, I think we should go ahead with the plan. We can spike up our drinks with Amphetamine and sell it at higher prices.”

Santu Bhai knew a few chemists, who could help him prepare the amphetamine pills at cheaper costs.

Vicky followed Santu Bhai to the chemist in the Chavan Hospital, whom Santu Bhai had known for years.

Santu Bhai introduced Raja to Laxman, the chemist. Vicky explained to the chemist, whatever he wanted.

“Listen Laxman Bhai, I want you to make Amphetamine pills for me.”

Vicky retaliated, ”Just do as I say okay! Your name wouldn’t be taken anywhere. I’ll give you my word.”

“But…. But…. I..”

“If you refuse to do the task, you will find a packet of illegal drugs in your daughter’s school tiffin box, TOMORROW!” Laxman thought about his 14-year-old daughter. He had no option other than to nod his head and quickly complete the task.

Santu was unable to comprehend, whatever he had just witnessed.

He asked hesitantly, “Vicky, I have always praised you for your intelligence, but what are you doing? Please, make me understand.”

“Calm down, Santu bhaiyya. Trust me, it is an excellent idea. We will spike the alcohol with drugs that are used for medication, and when consumed in larger amounts, this alcohol would be addictive. Consumers will beg us for more alcohol. This is business. Just imagine people drinking this and strolling through the streets -It would be unreal - people will move around with no grudges, giggle and laugh 42

for no particular reason - help each other to walk steady and end up walking unsteady together - the world would be a better place, isn’t it? - just think about the thrill we could get in doing this, just imagine.”

Santu reacts positively praising Vicky,” Brilliant! Vicky, Superb!

What an idea! Let’s go ahead with this but make sure that the drugs don’t kill anyone. They just need to be addictive.”

“Sure Santu bhaiyya. Laxman bhai will take care of it.”

All of them reached the service sectors of Charkop where every plot and cluster appeared to be the same. There were factories, homes, educational hubs, godowns, shops, and stores, etc. Some residents had their own private gardens in their homes while some of them used creepers and climbers as a design element for their facades. All of the houses shared the same central courtyard where some played cricket, some made rangolis, some put up a chair outside their houses to sit and giggle.The entire space seemed like one large home. It was very easy for one to get lost within the lanes of this area. Within this, businesses at various scales emerged .It seemed like a perfect place for sealing the bottles and packing them together in different boxes, without anyone having any idea of what was going on.

The last task was to sell these products to a large number of people.

But a question popped in Vicky’s mind; Where will they get the consumers to buy these products?

Vicky decided that the local smoking addas on the western side of Kandivali was the perfect place to execute this task. The people present there were always ready to buy alcohol at cheaper rates regardless of the brand. Vicky and his friends had many contacts around that area. Some of the popular addas were Turzon point- a place which seemed like the end of dwellings and the start of dense jungle, the Crematorium lane where no one was present during the night time and many more. These addas were blindspots of Kandivali where no one could ever find out what was happening, where no one would dare to enter because these areas were so dark. These spots were exactly where Vicky could carry out his plan without any complication 43

and would earn more than he had ever dreamed of.

Vicky targeted the middle-class teenagers who visited the nightclubs frequently. Most of them who Vicky knew lived on the Datta Mandir road. It was a quiet street with gated communities on either side of it, and it was easy for Vicky to trade these bottles at night. He built good relations and friendships with most of his customers. ”But Vicky, what if these people go to the police …”

Vicky interrupted and replied with a smirk, ”Santu bhaiyya, these people will think a 100 times before even approaching their parents!

Forget about the police.”

They gained a different kind of joy from this task. It’s like a little game you play with people, and every time you get away with it ‘you win’. It is all about the thrill of making common people go spinning.

But what were they going to do ahead?. They kept repeating this for the following months. Santu thought to himself that someday if they were to be caught, the only person going behind the bars would be Vicky, the mastermind. *****

44

45

46

MUSCLE It was three in the morning in the cold month of November. It was dark and not a single silhouette in sight. Water crashing on the concrete platform and the crows cawing were the only sounds audible. It seemed like a typical 3 am scene at the port until faint footsteps could be heard from a distance. His leather shoes stepped on the hard concrete platform heading towards the edge. He had his regular cigarette in between his index and middle finger, he put this stick in between his lips and puffed it out. He then looked around him for any sign of movement. He signalled his left hand to a group of small boats in front of him which seemed to have been unoccupied. A few seconds later, men wearing white banyans and loose boxer shorts, weary of the chilly weather, start sailing the boats forward. They anchor the boats to the platform and start unloading one of the many blue cartons which were loaded on the boats. On the surface, the cartons had fresh mackerel and prawns. The four men moved swiftly and cautiously so as to not create any sound. One of the bulkier-looking men with a beer belly handed over a small note to the man, he was about to take the last puff of his favourite cigarette. He tapped his shoe on the platform while reading the scribbled text on the note. Looking satisfied and content, he nodded at the man in front of him and signalled him to move the boxes inside the basti. The four men immediately got to work they have been so familiar with. The man shoved the note in his coat jacket and threw his cigarette on the ground before stubbing it with his shoe. He walked his way along the quiet and dark basti towards the rusty old warehouses finishing off for the night.

Early in the morning, the trucks drove in to unload the Chinese goods near the port at Coalbundar. Men dragging the fishnets into their tiny boats were dispersing into the sea, women gracefully carried the cane baskets over their heads with freshly caught fish, and a few ferries packed with passengers and vehicles scattered onto the mainland.

Amidst the hive of activities, two brothers broke into an argument.

With the loud screams of the argument, Brijesh’s bubble of fantasies burst, he shook and woke up to this sound opposite to his jhopdi.

Awakened, he tried to peep out into the street from the only jali in the 47

corner of his mezzanine, rubbing his eyes on the glazing sunlight. He saw several men in front of the tapri watching the fight and sipping over warm tea until Akbar chacha arrived peddling on his bicycle and stopped the fight. Akbar chacha was an old wise man to whom many turned for advice. Anwar was his grandson. Anwar, woh toh Brijesh ka pakka yaar hai! They owned a small chicken shop in Coalbundar and were trusted by many. Akbar chacha had once served as a part of the gangster group but voluntarily retired they say but no one knows for sure. Brijesh was often called by Anwar for dinner where Akbar chacha would unfold the underworld stories. He talked about murder gangs of Sewri, Reay road mafia groups, and about a few suspected Mafia godowns. He could discuss swapping techniques and predict frauds like a master. Anwar and Brijesh soon became a young duo, powered to learn about fake scams, illegal extortion, and robbery.

They together spotted crime residences and also joined some feasts and celebrations at a few places. This couldn’t last long as Akbar chacha became aware of their activities, followed them once, and caught them red-handed. Anwar was definitely a true partner in crime.

Brijesh, “Kitne baje khana lene aaoge aaj?”, bhabhi called out from the kitchen. Unlocking the phone he saw it was already 8:30 a.m. He grabbed his only pair of trousers and crawled to the ladder to climb down. Bhabhi, “bas rojana ka waqt adai baje ko aa Jaunga mein.”

Brijesh was a migrant from Jharkhand whose family made a living practising agriculture. His parents had a group of people travelling to the city and decided to send him along. He lived at the edge of Darukhana, with bhaiya, bhabhi, and two other men, in a compact tadpatri house that stood on stilts. There was enough space to cook and lie down. He worked for a year at Rampurwala’s steel workshop, which made him sustain in the city and earn enough money to wire home every month. He pushed the curtain of his jhopdi and stepped outside into the street. He picked up the small lotta and filled it up with water from the blue plastic barrel. Walking straight towards his favourite spot, the train siren blew louder as it approached Reay Road station near the stairs of the old port. He stretched his arms out and inhaled the salty air. He splattered cold water on his face and thought about all the lonely, downtimes he had managed, keeping himself motivated with a bottle of rum, standing there in front of the unjust city accompanied by Anwar sometimes. He couldn’t open up his thoughts 48

to anyone in his jhopdi, he missed his home and his family.

He got ready, walked past his daily route on the uneven roads of the gali, listening to the radio news, and then entered the huge warehouse. He made his entry on the register and waved at Hakeem bhai.

Brijesh spent most of his day in the warehouse. He liked being at work. The warehouse was dingy and damp due to high humidity, but he still enjoyed working with his companions, Birju and Kashab who were twins, and Hakeem bhai the co-owner of the workshop. Seth would visit only once a week to monitor the workplace. Brijesh and his friends would take a break every afternoon and smoke a cigarette near the Flamingo statues. He would collect lunch from bhabhi and have dinner at his place. But Friday nights were fixed for parties. His preference was Kalpesh Shetty’s bar and occasionally he would explore new venues. Together the boys had dusted their hands on lotteries, alcohol, and drugs. Brijesh was exposed to prostitution activities at Kamathipura. He had once even randomly asked out a woman at the local Byculla bar and was punched in his face. This week, his friends had planned a film, they kept calling it a blue film studio. He had never heard of this from anyone before. He just tagged along with his friends as usual. He was surprised to see porn screening among such a big audience.

He enjoyed it thoroughly and wanted to go there again but couldn’t afford the tickets. The boy who was usually keen and interested in doing his work was now distracted. He longed to watch it again. As he scrolled down the website to find the download option, a blinking notification popped. He clicked on this notification, and the icon buffered. A person appeared on the other side of the screen, cheap scrapped walls with Bollywood posters could be seen in the background. A person slowly stripped his clothes off. After spending a few minutes looking at the screen, Brijesh got up and closed the incognito tab. Just when he was washing his hands, a notification popped up on his phone, it was a SMS message. He clicked on the notification.

“You have been recorded while watching this explicit content. If you refuse to do whatever you are asked, the consequences will be severe!”

At first, Brijesh ignored this message but after a few minutes, he got 49

anxious. He had no idea what to do and where to go. If this video were to reach his family back home, the consequences would be unimaginable. He had struggled with his sexuality for years, he had kept it a secret for a long time.

He went to the kitchen in his small kholi and drank a cup of water to calm himself. Brijesh was a daily wage worker, he never intended to get involved in this, he just wanted to work, away from his nagging family and earn enough to live in the city. He had never imagined that a single phone call would tilt his world upside down. In desperate need of help, he decided to reach out to his trustworthy friend Anwar.

He put on his white banyan and blue chequered dhoti and rushed out of the kholi. Familiar faces greeted him on his way but he was lost in his own thoughts to reply back. He hurried through the busy lanes, knocking over utensils being washed outside the kholis, ensuring not to knock over any steps.

He reached his saviour’s doorstep and impatiently knocked at his door. Irritated by the constant knocking, Anwar opened the door.

Brijesh was panting and looked worried. Anwar made him sit on a chair and offered him a glass of water. Brijesh declined. He quickly explained everything to his friend. Anwar assessed the situation and after giving it a fair amount of thought he asked Brijesh to take this to the cyber-crime department. He told him it was a simple case of blackmail and there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Brijesh refused this proposition. He told Anwar, he couldn’t go to the police at any cost. Anwar sensed that there was something wrong, but he didn’t ask. Anwar stared into thin air and started thinking. He then thought they could seek help from Waris Pathan. Locally known as ‘dada’. Waris bhai had a huge network, he knew all the local goons, even the ones that were active in the 1990s. One of the major tasks that his gang undertook was smuggling opium from China and small arms from ports like Karachi. His gang carried out multi-level extortions as well. Everyone was on his payroll and that is why he was untouchable. People not only feared him because of his criminal network but also because of his strength. However, Waris bhai avoided killing anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. In Bombay, there was a time, when the name ‘Waris Jaffer’ was the law. But now he 50

was reduced to a local ‘dada’ at Coalbunder.

Anwar tapped on Brijesh’s shoulder, “Brijesh sunn, Waris bhai madad karega humko, yaad hai woh Reay Road wala Don. Akbar chacha boltey hai ki unke darwaze pe jane wala khali haath nahi laut ta.”

Brijesh instantly lifted his head and replied in a low sceptical voice, “Waris bhai kya karega, unka kaam toh chaaku pe shuru hoke, revolver pe khatam hota hai. Anwar ye computer ka mamla hai.”

“Dekh bhai bharosa rakh, aise haath pe haath rakh kar bhi toh nahi baithe reh sakte.” Brijesh agreed to go and visit Waris bhai.

Both of them hastily walked towards Waris bhai’s kholi. On the way, Brijesh had multiple thoughts about backing out of this plan. He knew Waris bhai’s ways and they were unethical. Anwar guided Brijesh towards Waris bhai’s kholi on Reay Road. The roads in his area were narrow, barely having any space for a car to pass by. The locals had set up small shops on the pavements making the place crunched and difficult to walk in. The street was lit up by the neon signs on the hotel boards. Brijesh followed Anwar to one such gali and towards the end, asked Brijesh to wait while Anwar talked to the guard ahead. Brijesh looked around the place, women walked in and out of many kholis, somewhere he could hear muffled sounds. Anwar came back and guided Brijesh to Waris bhai’s kholi. Waris was sitting on a couch in the centre of the room smoking a cigarette, he was a 65-year-old goon who was very well known in his area. He had been in the ‘business’ for so long that he knew all the ins and outs. He joined this world when he was new in Bombay. His young mind wanted to earn quick bucks. It soon became his lifestyle.

The wrinkles on Waris bhai’s forehead disappeared as soon as he saw Anwar. He signalled the guard to let them in. Anwar greeted Waris bhai. “Kya haal chaal beta, Akbar ka pota hai ye! Kaise aana hua yahan?” Waris bhai asked. “Bas aapki dua hai bhai”, Anwar replied.

Waris asked them to sit on the bench in front of him. He paused for a while and carefully looked at Brijesh, “Kya baat hai, kuch khidmat kar sakta hu mein tumhari”, Waris bhai asked in a deep voice, 51

reading Anwar’s expression. Waris raised his eyebrows and asked, “Kisine jagah hadap li hai? Ya koi paisa vapas nahi kar raha batao mereko?” Anwar narrated the entire incident. Waris bhai heard everything patiently but as he was about to conclude, Waris bhai smirked and his companions broke into laughter. “Shhh! Brijesh beta, isme kya hua, ye kaunsa gunaah hai? Isme me mein kya kar sakta hu bhala?” said Waris bhai. Brijesh made a long face and rolled his eyes at Anwar. Anwar explained to Waris bhai how sensitive Brijesh was to this situation. He told him how Brijesh wouldn’t be welcomed by his family if this gets out. Waris bhai now scratched his beard trying to analyse the situation.

“Theek hai, naam jante ho uska?”

“Nahi Bhai.”

“Rehti kaha pe hai?”

“Vo toh pata nahi hai hume” “Ha magar jis number se call aaya tha vo save kiya hai!”

“Number se kya usko called karke puchega, kaha rehti hai? Bata degi tujhe?”

He sounded a little frustrated, but he still continued asking questions “Kaam kaha pe hota hai? Kuch malum hai?”

Waris bhai put this network of spies to work, across the Reay-Road-Byculla area. He contacted every gang in Byculla and soon he was caught in an explosion of whispers.

Walking through the streets with his hand in his pocket, he leaned at the Biddi shop on the highway. “Apna ‘gold flake’ pass kar, sunn vo mobile wala dukhan ka piche wale kholi me admi hai na?”

“Aye, gaadi rok! Signal se left le. Acha uss sidhi pe bethe chacha ko puchu? Vo abhi andar station ke bridge pe gaya ... Kon ? Kon ? Udar dekh!”

“Railway chawl ke piche ke ground me cricket khelta hai” “Baat karo, mila? Aaj kal ke bache boht chakor hai, Saheb!”

“Ha Sampat!!!!! Ha mil gaya, arey voich hai, ekdam cut to cut. Saala mai bol raha na, jaldi Ebu bhai ko bol, ye yaha chokra-chokri chuma-chati karne aate hai na, waha aaya hai. Waha matlab apna Hansraj lane, Byculla flyover ke neeche, jaldi bata koi bhai ko!”

52

“Kaiko arey kaiko bhej raha Mushu bhai ko, merepe bharosa nahi teko? Ha ek baar kya galti hua, saala apna izzat hi nahi kya kuch.

Jaa Dagdu Saheb ko bol! Ha aur ye chinese gali me aana, M.S.B.” “Ho! Salma bhabhi, ha Pravin cha ghari zo bhadekaru aala ahe na, toh pharach shanta ahe, avali yeto ani avali jato, konashi kahi bolat nahi ani mela garmit paan hoodie ghalto” As the conversation continues, Brijesh was lost in the trail of his thoughts. His phone screen lit up. It was a text message from an unknown number. He was terrified to open the text.

The message read “Collect box from Byculla and deliver it to Kamathipura.”

Nervously fidgeting with his fingers and pressing his thumb, his past events started flashing before his eyes. All he could think about was his lies, all his secrets that never left his room, all the allegations that were made against him, and all the consequences this situation could have. Not knowing what to do next, Brijesh quietly escaped the kholi.

He quickly ran down the steps and called for a taxi. For a moment he wondered if reality was a simulation, whether it was really happening. What if it only existed to trick him into doing illegal activities?

“Bhaiya kidhar jana hai?” asked the taxi driver from his half-rolleddown window. Over the bustle of the street and constant horns from the scooter behind he asked “Byculla chaloge?” After settling down in the taxi, Brijesh opened his google maps. It took 28 minutes to reach the location.

After reaching Byculla, he requested the taxi driver to wait a few minutes while he collected the box from the location he was blackmailed to go to. He continued travelling in the same taxi. The taxi driver enjoyed his soft Kishore Kumar music. Not being able to think, agitated Brijesh yelled “Gaana band karo”. There was complete silence and yet a thousand thoughts crossing his mind, chacha from the streets, vehicular traffic noise, and lowered music in the background. Brijesh was sweating.

53

“Kamathipura mein kaha jana hai bhaiya, hum pohoch gaye” “Ha bas yahi laga do side mein” answered Brijesh.

They made a small eye contact through the rearview mirror while he made the payment, Brijesh thought the taxi driver was looking at him suspiciously. Beads of sweat rolled down his face while he was waiting for his change. He quickly wiped it and slammed the door.

Holding the parcel close to his chest, he started walking ahead in search of the pharmacy.

Waris bhai starts thinking of ways to catch this criminal as he has a number to trace this person. He has a huge khabri network which he mobilises to catch him.

He takes out an old diary of his from cupboard, he dusts it off and asks one of men to fetch him his old pair of reading glasses and with a ballpen in his hand he starts jotting down numbers from his old dairy and yells “Aeyy, Anda sunn jaldi Pappu Hatela ko phone ghuma, ye aadmi agar Kamathipura bulaya tha isse milne, toh waha zarur koi parcel rakhne aaya hoga aur Kamathipura Pappu ka ilaka hai, waha uske marzi ke bina ek pata nahi hilta” Pappu picked up the phone and said “A-Salaam Walaikum Waris bhai! Bola kiska game bajana hai, aap bass naam bolo! Bhai bas aap bolo” To which he answered “Walaikum A-Salaam! Rajesh, ek kaam tha tere se, Kamathipura tera ilaka bolte toh ek aadmi ke bare me pata karna tha, tereko photo aur ek number mil jayega, dekh toh area me koi aisa madarjaat ghum raha hai kya, bas itna ek kaam kar chal phata phat” Pappu said “Ha bass itna ye toh chindi kaam hai abhi yaha ki Randiyo se aur aspas ke roz ke bhadvo se baat nikalvata hu jaise kuch milega aapko bol dunga, bas ek 2 din do” Waris bhai says okay to this and disconnects the call and tells Brijesh and Anwar with a confident smile on his face getting up from his khaat, “Ab bas tumlog dekho Waris Pathan ka kamaal, kaise tumlog ke blue film recorder ko pakadta hu” In the meanwhile Anwar and Brijesh went back to their daily routines, Brijesh was instructed to inform Waris bhai if he gets a call in these 54

2 days, before doing anything the caller asks and was told not to leak any information to him, that he is being looked for by Pappu’s men.

Two days passed and Pappu came back to Waris bhai with an address, Paapu as a professional could never stand the words ‘If’, ‘But’ and ‘Maybe’, he was a man who worked with absolutes and therefore as soon as this information reached Waris, he and his men, rushed to that address.

Room No.7, Abba Gani Manor, Sant Savta Marg, Mazgaon, Mumbai-400 010.

As they reached the place they found themselves in front of a huge metal gate and as Waris Bhai and his men walked in everyone looked at them with suspicion.

He knocked on the door of a kholi which was adjacent to the gate.

A thin man in a banyan came out and said “Sahab kuch kaam tha?”

To which one of his men answered “Aeyy, lukhe bata ye kholi kaha hai!”

Shocked after hearing his strong voice, the man quickly answered, “Ye, Ibrahim Gani chawl hai iske aage wali building ke aage wali building ke paas waha pocho.”

He thanked the man by letting him go and then moved to the gali. aris bhai and his men reached the house, it was more like a chawl kholi which was developed slightly to have a mezzanine. The house seemed abandoned, with all the dirt which had settled on its small ota but they noticed that there was a pair of footprints on the surface, which meant that there was someone inside the house.

Moving cautiously towards the door, to break it open, while taking two men with him and asking the other three to keep the neighbours quiet. Waris bhai asked one of the two men with him to ram the door open with his shoulder. He broke the door and as they rushed into 55

the kholi they saw a man run upstairs. They followed him to malla, as one of them climbed the staircase and reached the upper level he was struck down by the beams of the kholi, which were abnormally low and to add to their trouble there were three of them, a man who was more than 5 feet could never make it through these beams. Some crawled, some hunched and made it to the balcony door.

And as they entered the balcony, they saw that the man had disappeared but suddenly they had dust falling on their faces, they walked further ahead in the balcony area and noticed he was on the patras running.

Waris bhai yelled “Abey! Paani kaam chai, bhag uske peeche!” The men managed to climb on the roof and they ran behind him across rooftops through out the chawl. Some of them fell into other people’s homes and received a delightful thrashing, others who had the will and the stamina to catch him kept chasing him.

After running across rooftops they landed on the ground floor, where the man went through another small gate, which seemed like an entry point to a private house, he went through a small alley which served as a shortcut through the house to get out of the society, while doing so, he got entangled with clothes which were being dried across the alley and stepped on various types of papad. Because of this, the men in these household also started running after him as he was about to reach the door, which had a spiral staircase beside it, he saw Pathan on the other side waiting and therefore decided to take the spiral staircase and founds himself in front of an old man known as ‘Dada Shankar’, who started thrashing him with a paints container, which he used as a tumbrel, somehow pushing him away, he found himself on their water tank where with one jump he entered Ibrahim Gani Baithi Chawl.

Where he ran through a path which had kholis on both sides, playing high jump across kids and elders and at the same time avoiding utensil water and occasionally open manholes.

He finally reached the gate, where he found himself in the hands of Waris bhai, who gave him a smile and banged him on the wall of the adjacent kholi and once again, he said “Agli baar mil jayega.”

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57

58

GUT 1 Currey Road, a narrow street normally populated by office workers, was quiet that day. While heading down, Mane was counting the massive pillars in the middle of the road. The monorail passed above his head. He calmly walked by the India United No.1 mill, remembering his old days, he was saddened. It was pouring heavily, and there was a faint aroma of food drawn towards him. He craved for kanda bhajis and walked towards the stall.

Mane ordered a plate of kanda bhaji while standing under the shop’s extended canopy. The vehicles halted at the red light. People continued to rush down the street in groups. He stretched his hand outside the shade to see if it had stopped raining.

“Mane kaka, hi ghya tumchi bhaji!” exclaimed the owner.

Mane grasped the plate of hot, crispy bhajis in his hand. He recalled a similar day while savouring the bhajis. His coworkers at the mill had ordered the same dish at this stall. They finished their meals while laughing and talking about the current issues.

“Hasn’t it been a year now, since these strikes are happening?”

“Yeah, and now I don’t see any sign of them increasing our wages.

“Mr. Samant had initiated a great revolution but now it is time for us to decide how to continue with our lives!”

“I heard about a job opening in the mortuary in KEM hospital. They pay a good amount to the staff workers. It is also close to BDD.” “But won’t it require some medical expertise?”

“I don’t want to waste much time on this. It would be better if I find another job.”

“We are only 23 years old. We can still complete the necessary training in one or two years and begin working. This employment also 59

provides safety, something that our mill jobs were just promising.”

“Yes, I think I do not have any problem with it. ” This was the day he decided to pursue his older ambition of working in medicine.

“Kaka paise?”, inquired the shopkeeper. Mane gathered his thoughts and realised that his plate was empty. “How much does it cost?” “fakta 15.” He paid the owner and went back to work at KEM hospital.

He entered the hospital and stopped near the reception area, when a woman in a white coat waved at him.

“Are we meeting today?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll notify you if anything happens.”

“Ok.” After meeting Mane kaka, she walked to the pantry. She had been working here for almost ten years. She met him for the first time while studying human anatomy in a morgue at KEM hospital. A nurse arrived to inform her that the patient in ward 15, bed number 10, needed to be checked. She was about to leave to check on the patient when she received a phone call.

“Good afternoon ma’am. Is this Manasvi Tambe?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Ma’am, I am speaking from HDFC bank. You haven’t paid your loan. It has been a month. If not paid until the coming week then we will have to take strict actions.”

“I am trying to repay the loan. I am facing some….… ” Before she could explain her issues, they hung up on her. She chose to ignore this for the moment and proceeded to the patient. She entered the ward and continued her routine examination. She noticed that the patient’s heart rate was slower than usual and his condition was severe, so she decided to inform Mane kaka.

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2 Sarang assisted the packers and movers in unloading all of the necessary equipment. The truck couldn’t wait for long because of the narrow street and constant honking. He paid them the agreed-upon amount and went inside to begin unpacking. The previous medical shop was in a smaller gala across Tata Memorial Hospital. He and his wife had found this pharmaceutical company. But his wife insisted on forming a larger corporation that would include her research and development unit. He accepted the offer half-heartedly, and they bought one unit in the Kohinoor Mill Compound. He heard a scooter being parked outside.

“Sarang! Have the packers and movers left?”

“Manasvi, I am inside the R&D unit!”

She dashed to the R&D room, terrified of what he might discover. He was looking for a temporary location for the boxes. She was relieved because everything had been taken care of. She recommended putting the boxes in the restroom closer to the shop. She asked if he had eaten lunch yet. He refused, so they ate lunch in the pantry room.

“Do you have any appointments today? I am really exhausted after this shift. I was thinking that we can go watch a movie tonight “ “We are yet to set up the medical shop , which will go upto 5pm. And later, I wish to work in my research lab. ” She agreed after some arguments. They began unpacking and stacking the store after lunch. Her focus was still split. She kept checking her phone for a message from Mane kaka. It was 5 p.m., and there was still no news.

“Are we done?” asked Sarang.

“Yeah”, replied Manasvi with a lack of enthusiasm.

Her phone finally rang. Mane kaka was on the other end of the line.

She inquired when they should meet. He told her to meet at 6 p.m.

She told Sarang the change in plan because she had an emergency at the hospital. He walked away with disappointment.

Mane called Manasvi and informed her of the deceased. At 6 p.m., 61

the body would be transported to the Sewri crematorium. Mane had already informed the guard that they were on their way to retrieve the deceased. The deceased’s family was informed that the patient died as a result of contagious disease and that they were not permitted to take the body for cremation. Instead, the body would be taken by a hospital personnel. A group of people drove the body to the crematorium in an ambulance and handed it over to Mane. A stone-filled dummy coffin was carried in front of the family, who stood far away from the crematorium. Mane and his associates returned to the mill by car.

The drive from Sewri Crematorium to Kohinoor Mill felt long that day. Mane shivered slightly as he looked at the gate from far before approaching them. Manasvi hosted her medical setup, which she had begun this morning. The body was too heavy to carry from one location to another, but they managed to move it on a stretcher. Manasvi quickly wore her coat and started with a scalpel. At the research lab, Mane and his friends closed their sleepy eyes.

A group of three surgeons surrounded the body. It lasted for quite some time. Finally, the operation was completed. She successfully removed the liver, heart, cornea, lungs, pancreas, heart valves, kidneys and skin.

The organs were placed in sterile containers and wrapped in moist ice. This took some time. Inspector Kolte and Mane had gone for a cigarette break but became restless when they realised it was already daybreak. They dropped their cigarettes and crushed them with their feet. They dashed into the operating room where they found that everything had been cleaned and the containers were ready to be transferred. Inspector Kolte was assigned to transport the organs with the help of some of the associates to the port. Manasvi and Mane stayed back to close the mills and check for any leftovers.

The mill was only 15 minutes away by MBPT. Driving early in the morning made it much faster. Inspector Kolte was overjoyed as the packaging and surgery was completed in time. The monsoon winds fueled his desire to race down Rafi Ahmed Kidwai Rd to the Port.

He called the ship’s owner to inform him of their arrival. They were summoned to the Coal Bunder. Kolte parked on the other side of the street, leaving one of the associates instructions, in case of emergen62

cy. They chose to walk with some space between them through the slum’s narrow streets to the port.

He was walking along when he noticed a light coming from an aperture on the right and realised it had to be the ship niche. He told everyone to stand back and sent one of his associates ahead to check the ship. He rang the ship’s owner. When one of the associates noticed a man picking up his phone, he warned everyone. Inspector Kolte and two other employees came forward. Two of the associates were instructed to remain behind and hide in one of the crevices created between the houses.

Manish bhai greeted Inspector Kolte and directed his employees to bring the container inside. One of his men approached Manish bhai and whispered something to him, assuring him that everything was fine. Manish bhai handed out an envelope containing the agreed-upon sum. Inspector Kolte was never supposed to open the envelope; instead, he was supposed to hand it over to Mane, who would then distribute it to the rest of the team.

3 Inside the mill compound, everyone was waiting for Inspector Kolte.

As they moved inside through the gate, they were amazed to see such a vast empty space of non living machines occupied by the equipments of a pharmaceutical company. It was natural to imagine what it would have been like when the mills were running. All dark, with light filtering through the large door in the research lab. It took some time for them to process the grandness fading into darkness. The hypnosis was broken when people began to chatter. Inspector Kolte was speaking.

Everyone gathered around Manasvi and Mane, hoping to see some money. Inspector Kolte took the envelope from his pocket. Mane extended his hand to receive the money. “Did you have any problems dealing with Manish?” Inspector Kolte shook his head in denial. He opened the envelope and turned it upside down. Everyone was re-

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lieved when they found five bundles of 500 rupee notes. Everyone thought to themselves that it was worth putting their lives in danger right now. It had cost Rs. 2.5 lakhs. Mane began counting the money, while others also set their eyes on his hand movement as each note striked the other. He then divided the money and handed it to everyone involved, starting with Manasvi. It was 6 a.m., and everything outside was quiet. There were only a few joggers and a newspaper vendor visible. It wasn’t difficult to slip away without being noticed.

Mane was amused by what he was able to pull. Others were also smiling as they walked back to their homes or places of business.

They couldn’t believe that this plan would be successful without being caught or making some blunder.

This became a routine. The organs from some bodies were packaged and exported to the countries whereas in some cases the body was kept in the pharmaceutical company. The body was then used by the medical students and doctors for study purposes, research and experimentation. The organs were sent to other countries as food for animals. These animals were crossbred in research labs in different countries. They consumed a lot of food unlike others. They were fed with human flesh. To preserve these rare species, the bulk of human organs and flesh was sent to these labs.

Manasvi’s life revolved around practising medicine during the day and researching at a pharmaceutical company at night. Manasvi still owed a significant sum to repay her education loan. She instructed Mane to bring one corpse on alternate days to conduct research and the mill workers enthusiastically agreed as it made easy bucks.

One day, Kolte was strolling at the outskirts of Sewri, near the port, to supervise the trade and export the packaged organs. He walked through the densely populated slums on the port’s outskirts in a narrow street with water spilled all over it. There was an outlet to the city’s sewerage line near the end of the port. It also had a pipeline that connected to the Kohinoor mills to drain the medical waste. Blood was flowing into one of the sewerage lines. Kolte suddenly realised it was the sewerage of the Kohinoor mill.

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