Copyright © Sanjay Kumar 2014 Cover art and design by Notion Press, 2014

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events,

establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to

provide a sense of authenticity, and are used factiously. All other

characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author‟s

imagination and are not to be construed as real.

No part of this book may be used, reproduced in any manner whatsoever without

written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations

embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Chapter 1

A Victim of Various Circumstances

Monday, April 30, 2012

Saksham zipped through desolate night roads, hoping the insane

speed would vacuum out the grim memories of his public humiliation

inflicted by his ex just a moment ago. Little did he know that the worst

fate had planned for him was yet to come.

The day marked the end of Saksham‟s college life, but he felt none of

those typical „last day of college‟ emotions – no relief at finishing his

studies, no sadness at saying goodbye to friends, neither the anxiety

about nor an excited anticipation for the real world that awaited him.

His colourful world, which was resplendent in all its kaleidoscopic

magnificence a mere three months ago - the life he had grown to love -

had crumbled into fine dust, from which emanated a dense grey cloud

that enveloped his being.

The shiny red of Saksham‟s bike reflected South Delhi‟s streetlights,

as he rode unabashedly through the inner city roads. Just as he

approached Ring Road, the sight of a PCR vehicle served a reminder to

slow down. The slackened speed helped calm his nerves. He began to

breathe again. How could things change so fast? He wondered. „Divya and

I were almost inseparable just a few months ago. Everything was so perfect…

until… until I started to take a closer look at the world around me… until I

started to have an opinion; an opinion that happened to be different from hers.

But, what is so wrong with demanding some personal space in a

relationship?’

An unexpected convoy of night time truck traffic shifted Saksham‟s

focus back to driving. At Dhaula Kuan, he took a turn towards the

forested ridge area, purely on impulse. He was a wanderer, a reluctant

explorer of the night. With no particular destination in mind, his

decisions at signals were a random mix of straight, left, and right. His

mind stayed busy, regressing over one question, worded in a myriad

different ways: What has life come down to?

Fate, or call it a random sequence of thoughtless turns, that took

him to India Gate. Saksham continued riding unconsciously around the

big circle, the tall national monument standing majestically in the

centre of the wide green landscape. Most tourists at the monument

had left, and the rest were winding up.

Saksham circumscribed the circle a full three times, but could not

decide which exit to take. He was almost embarrassed at the thought

of returning home this early when everybody expected him no sooner

than in the wee hours of the morning, after a long night of

celebrations.

When an untimely drizzle sent the last set of visitors packing,

Saksham took one of the inner roads through the lawns and parked his

bike next to a bench. Half drenched by now, Saksham saw no point in

finding shelter. In almost stoic resignation, he leaned against the

bench, closed his eyes, and surrendered to the thick droplets of rain

lashing against his body.

The steady sound of rain was interrupted by a deafening noise of

engines as a gang of bikers passed by on their specially modified bikes.

Saksham remained oblivious to what was happening around him,

submerged as he was in thoughts that had now turned to more

fundamental questions about life. What is the purpose of life? Why is it so

difficult to be happy? Why is there so much pain in this world – pain, apathy,

hatred? I wish I could make a difference. But, what change can one person

bring? Wouldn’t it be perfect if people begin to realize there is value in being

nicer, more ethical and more responsible? And if people don’t realize it, why

doesn’t God interfere? Why doesn’t He enforce a better, more organized

world? Assuming there is a God, and He cares for this world! A fresh new

wave of helplessness overwhelmed him; neither anger, nor mirth, it

was unadulterated frustration at a life that had suddenly hit a dead

end!

A knock on the bench interrupted Saksham‟s thoughts.

Saksham opened his eyes. There were two policemen standing in

front of him, one on either side. The short and middle-aged policeman

on his right was holding a wooden staff; he was most likely a head

constable. The other, on Saksham‟s left, was younger and taller, but

looked the senior of the two. He could probably be a sub-inspector. A

police bike was parked right next to his bike, and the rain had reduced

to a light drizzle.

Saksham looked up blankly as his tired brain tried to make sense of

an unwelcome intrusion.

The constable tapped the bench one more time, “So, our friend is

taking a break from bike stunts, huh?”

“What stunts?” Saksham‟s eyes narrowed in bewilderment.

“You guys think you are heroes.” The constable tapped his cane

authoritatively one more time. “Where are your other friends? Those

stunt bikers… bloody freaks!” His face grimaced with contempt.

“I think you are mistaken; I do no stunts. I was just…”

“Don‟t act smart,” the policeman cut Saksham, “you young boys

watch these English films and think you are heroes yourself. A few

canes on your bare backside, and you will forget all this hero-giri.”

Both policemen shared a mean grin.

“What the hell is going on?” Saksham was in no mood to accept

such insolence.

They ignored his protestations. With a smirk, the senior policeman

added, “Ram Singh, don‟t scare him too much, or he might pee in his

pants”!”

“How do you know, sir ji… he may have wet his pants already. You

know, it is tough to tell when it‟s raining!” Their grin turned into a

wicked chuckle.

This was the last straw for Saksham. He stood up and stared down

at the fat constable. “Enough, you bastard!” he shouted, eyes furious,

fingers curled into tight fists. A punch on the nose, a wild swipe of palm on

the neck or a kick in the ribs, and this mean bastard would be flat on the

ground; an impulsive radical thought germinated in his martial-art

skilled brain.

But the sub-inspector looked unperturbed; this was everyday

business. He put a hand on Saksham‟s shoulder. “Cool down, boy!

Don‟t make it worse for yourself.” He pushed Saksham down, back on

the bench. “We got no time to waste; tell me quickly who you are and

what are you doing here?”

“I am no stunt biker,” Saksham made another attempt to reason it

out. “I am just a normal guy, sitting here… doing nothing… just

passing time.”

The inspector put his foot on the bench next to Saksham and leaned

forward. “Dekh bhai, chutiya to bana mat (listen brother, don‟t fuck with

me). Normal guys don‟t go around riding their bikes in the middle of

the night, or sit at India Gate all alone, doing nothing.” He looked at

his watch. “It is one o‟ clock in the night.”

“It is my life and I can do whatever I want, anytime of the day or

night. I don‟t need permission from you to sit on this bench. It is

public property,” Saksham retorted in self-righteous indignation.

“Sir ji, I don‟t think he is getting it. We will have to turn up the

volume,” suggested the constable.

They briefly exchanged a mysterious glance, after which the

inspector turned his attention back to Saksham, “Don‟t fool around

with me. Tell me straight… are you a stunt biker or a terrorist

planning to blow up India Gate?”

“WHAT?” The accusation rattled Saksham. “Are you guys crazy?”

He shook off inspector‟s hand from his shoulder. “I am neither!”

The constable stepped closer, put his cane on Saksham‟s shoulder

and addressed his senior, “Sir ji, we are wasting time for nothing. Let‟s

just put him in the lockup. The enquiry team will figure out in the

morning who he really is.”

The logic behind this unnecessary harassment escaped Saksham, but

then, the baton charge episode from the past popped up in his memory.

He recalled how he had been mercilessly beaten by three policemen.

These guys are capable of anything, he reminded himself.

The inspector derived pleasure from the worried look on Saksham‟s

face. “Why even spend that much effort? Why not just do an

encounter? He looks like half a terrorist anyways,” he said, with an

obvious reference to Saksham‟s bearded look.

Saksham shuddered. “Encounter?” he echoed back in disbelief.

“You stunt bikers have been quite a nuisance lately. One encounter

will quieten all of you for good,” the constable added.

“I am… not a stunt biker… not a terrorist either,” protested

Saksham, his voice just a hoarse whisper.

“Leave that to us… we will figure out a suitable profile in the

morning.” Another mean grin followed.

Logic was not making any inroads, and Saksham knew well he

could not trust these policemen. His taekwondo-trained mind got

down to work. He surveyed them carefully. Only the inspector has a

revolver. Twist to your left, and smack his jawline sideways with enough force

to shock his skull into unconsciousness. The fat constable’s movements will be

slow. Swing back to position and kick him in the ribs with the right foot flat.

Check back on the inspector, he may need another blow. To be safe, take the

revolver out. Ten to fifteen seconds should be enough to start the bike and ride

out of their reach. And yes, their key is still on their bike. Take it out before

leaving!

His mental planning made him miss out on the last few sentences of

the policemen.

“Ram Singh, you know what?” The inspector looked hard at

Saksham, before turning back to his subordinate. “Let him go. May be

he is not that bad after all.” They exchange a quick meaningful glance

that Saksham failed to decipher.

“You are one lucky boy. Ready to go home now?” the constable

asked Saksham, as he tapped his staff on Saksham‟s shoulder.

This quick turn of fate puzzled Saksham. “O… okay,” he stammered.

The constable removed his stick and stepped back, “Go.”

Something did not feel right. Are they planning to shoot me from behind,

burn my face and turn in my body as some terrorist suspect? It may very well

earn someone a promotion. Saksham stood up hesitatingly. They were

standing about three feet away, with a cocky smile on their faces.

Just as Saksham took the first step, the constable stopped him, “We

spared your life and you will walk away just like that?” he smirked.

“For free?”

It all began to make sense now. Saksham felt both relief and

indignation at the same time. “What do you want?” he found himself

asking.

“How much do you have?” the constable asked.

“Two thousand… I think.”

“Okay… make it quick.”

Saksham reached for his wallet, took out the money and began

counting.

“Don‟t worry, we‟ll do the counting,” the inspector said curtly.

The constable followed the cue, stepped forward and held out his

hand.

“I think it is more than two,” Saksham said, as he finished counting.

“Three and half thousand.”

“So, you lied to us?”

Saksham did not want to let go, but offered no resistance as the

constable plucked it out of his hands. Saksham stood motionless,

wishing he had enough guts to retaliate.

The inspector broke the silence. “Now, take off your pants and go;

ride your bike in undies.”

The constable covered his mouth to hide his uncouth chuckle.

“What for? I just gave you three and a half thousand for nothing.”

“For lying to us about how much money you had.”

That is never going to happen. Saksham stared coldly into thin air.

“Any more delay and you will need to take off you undies too,” the

constable added, with a muffled chuckle.

This is it… the end of my patience! If I don’t act now, I will call myself a

coward for the rest of my life.

The constable moved his staff and tapped Saksham‟s belt. “This is

where you start, boy.”

Saksham‟s hands moved in automated motion to his belt… and

stopped there.

What the hell are you doing? Wake up! His self-respect asserted itself.

His body stayed frozen; his hands made no further movement.

“Have you gone deaf or what?” the constable raised his volume.

Saksham did not answer. Nor did he deign to look at them. He took

his hands off his belt and began to walk towards his bike. He cared

little if they shot him in the back.

As Saksham reached his bike, he could still hear their voice, albeit

faintly.

“For a second, I almost thought he was going to take his pants off,”

the constable sounded mighty pleased. “Sir, you really scared him

today.”

“The scaring part is important…” the inspector added, “to make

sure they never come back, or think about complaining.”

Saksham started his bike and raced away, hoping the long miserable

night had come to an end.

* * *

Fifteen minutes passed, and though the feeling of release from the

trauma was overwhelming, Saksham felt utterly weak and devastated.

He wouldn‟t be riding at just sixty kilometres on empty roads

otherwise.

Why did I let it all happen to myself? Why couldn’t I stand up against

injustice? They can’t kill people just like that! Well, maybe they can… fake

encounters are a reality in this country. But, fake encounters won’t happen just

for a few thousand bucks! A mixture of anger, hatred, frustration and

embarrassment continued to haunt him.

Saksham skipped a blinking yellow signal, not his first tonight,

without checking for approaching traffic. A truck almost brushed past

behind him. He reprimanded himself for a blunder that could have cost

him his life.

Why care? It’s a useless life anyways! A life rendered useless by fear and

cowardice. If you really cared for a dignified life, you should have had guts to

kick the balls of those two bastards!

Submerged in myriad thoughts, he continued to drive intuitively

towards another yellow signal which was blinking its warning. Yet

again, he failed to slow down or check for approaching traffic. Some

thirty metres from the intersection, his thoughts were rudely

interrupted by a loud honk of a truck.

His foot sat on the brake instinctively, though he couldn‟t see the

source of the noise yet. A second later, he saw the truck approaching

the intersection from his left. In all probability, the truck had not seen

him either. Fearing a head-on collision, he slammed even harder on the

brakes, while guiding his bike towards the left of the road.

Saksham‟s quick and unchecked move to left put him directly in the

path of another truck coming from behind that was planning to

overtake him from the left. The truck blared at its loudest.

Saksham was stuck, twenty metres away from the truck in front of

him and a mere five metres ahead of the truck behind.

Panic struck. His tired brain refused to take any more stress, and

blanked out immediately. His hands clung on instinctively to the

handle, but his mind was disconnected from the external world.

While his reduced speed helped his bike miss the truck in front, the

very next moment, the truck behind him hit the bike with good force.

The difference in their speed caused his bike to race ahead much faster.

The bike cleared the intersection before hitting the footpath at an

angle. The impact sent Saksham flying into the air. His tensed body

landed on the footpath, head first. The helmet made a sickeningly loud

cracking noise.

The bike toppled over, the momentum carrying it to the middle of

the road, blocking the truck‟s path. The truck stopped just in time to

avoid another collision with the bike.

The music stopped inside the truck. A boy jumped out from the

passenger side, followed by a middle aged man from the driver‟s. Both

rushed to the front of the truck. They pulled the bike out of the way.

The boy began wiping truck‟s bumper with a dirty cloth he was

carrying, while the driver scanned the surroundings. There were no

witnesses.

Looking satisfied with his quick cleaning effort, the cleaner stood up

and turned to the driver, “Let me check if he is alive.”

“Are you crazy?” the driver lashed out. “Do you want to spend the

rest of your life in jail?”

They hopped back in, and the truck resumed its journey. Some

hundred metres down the road, the music began to play again.

Saksham lay abandoned on the footpath. There was no sign of blood

around him, but his body made no movement either.

Chapter 2

A Beautiful Day, Interrupted

About three months earlier… Monday, February 6, 2012

As the gentle rays of the morning sun fell on Saksham‟s face,

serving a wakeup call, he simply tossed over and buried his face in the

pillow.

The residents of the Amaltas tree outside the window were long

gone, having chirped endlessly announcing the beginning of another

beautiful day of spring. Inside, a predictably perfect day waited for the

command of its master to get started. Life had been perfect – easy,

predictable and lots of fun. Saksham wished it stayed like that.

Forever!

As the phone rang, Saksham grabbed another pillow and covered his

ears, waiting for the nuisance to end. He needed rest; the party last

night was long and tiring.

When the phone rang the second time, he reached over and rejected

the call, without caring to check the caller. But, just as his head found

the comfort of the soft pillow, the phone rang for a third time.

It better be urgent, or else… Saksham told himself, and answered the

call in a sleepy voice, his eyes still closed. “Hello!”

“Good morning, Captain!” The cheery voice at the other looked

familiar. “Time to wake up.”

“Asif… who is dying, man?”

“Probably you. That is, if you don‟t reach here in next one hour.”

“Dude…I slept at four in the morning,” Saksham mumbled. Saying

even one word was an effort. “Am gonna hang up now.”

“Wait! I‟m not joking,” Asif sounded serious. “We have a situation

here. You got to hurry up!”

“Come on! What is it?”

“Can‟t tell you on the phone… you just got to trust me.”

Saksham sounded exasperated as he reluctantly propped himself up.

He struggled to open his hung-over eyes – dry, puffy and red. “How

much time do I have?”

“An hour… be here by ten, positively.” Asif hung up without

hearing Saksham‟s reply.

Saksham stared blankly at the clock on the side table. It was only

eight fifty, a full three hours earlier than planned. He shrugged in

resignation and headed for the bathroom.

* * *

Saksham was good looking by most standards. He was just a shade

under six feet, and had an athletic body – muscular, but not too bulky.

His physique was a result of all the hard work which began at a very

young age. When Saksham was three, a doctor friend of his father

diagnosed him as a hyperactive child. “Now we have someone with

enough energy to disrupt Vikram‟s peaceful world!” he joked. His

father laughed in good humour, but took the remark very seriously.

From then on, he ensured that Saksham was busy with activities to

constructively channelize his energies.

Vikram Rajput was an ambitious man; business took up most of his

time. Whenever he had a few moments with Saksham, he would ask for

a detailed status report – studies, sports, cultural activities. The

update, over time, became a ritual that bonded father and son. Since

early childhood, Saksham would eagerly wait for these sessions. He

would meticulously detail his accomplishments, hoping it would

prolong their father-son time. Though his efforts could not ensure

longer meetings, they did help him excel in sports. He was arguably

the most popular boy in school and an obvious choice for the position

of school captain. The nickname stuck, even after school. Some of his

friends still called him Captain.

Daughter of a school principal and grand-daughter of a freedom-

fighter, Indira Rajput was always an advocate of good education and

sound principles. While Vikram Rajput strove for better control,

Indira worked hard to ensure that abundance did not render family

values irrelevant; nor did she let Saksham ignore studies for sports or

extra-curricular activities. “He can easily top his class, if only he

devotes a little more time to studies,” Indira often complained, but

Vikram always laughed it off. “I want my son to be smart, not a book-

worm. And, why do you worry… I already have a great career planned

for him already.”

For Saksham, school was fun, but college proved even better – easier

studies, more freedom and minimal time-control by parents and

teachers. Thinking about a career was the last thing on his mind. But

his easy life was destined to end pretty soon, in another three months‟

time, when his final year exams would be due. Time really flew by – he

often wondered and blamed Divya, his girlfriend, for the most part.

* * *

Asif, Aditya and Divya were waiting for Saksham in the canteen.

“What do you say?” Aditya looked at Asif, on his left. “Do we have

time for another omelette?”

Asif checked the time on his phone. “Ten minutes is all we have, and

this guy is already running late with orders.”

“Leave that to me, omelette will be here in a minute,” Aditya waved

at the service boy.

“Aditya, there is life beyond food,” Divya admonished him. “It is

time you realized it!”

Aditya was oblivious to Divya‟s subtle reference to his growing

waistline. The service boy came and Aditya wasted no time. “Chhotu,

get me an omelette, quick.”

“It will take time, sir,” the boy replied. “I can get you idli if you want

something quick.”

“Chhotu, my friend,” Aditya pulled the service boy closer and

lowered his voice to a whisper, “I have a class in two minutes. There

must be some omelette on the pan; just get me that.” Then secretly, he

put a ten rupee note in service boy‟s pocket. “Omelette with bread…

and extra butter… quick. I need to rush!”

The boy gave in to his offer with a childlike innocence and left.

Aditya looked at Asif and grinned, his face shining with pride.

Asif was unimpressed, “Adi tiye, why did you do that? You just

corrupted a young boy.”

“My friend, money is the lubrication that moves the machinery of

this world.” He winked, “Keep this free tip, it will serve you a lifetime.”

“Aditya, I think you should start charging for your wisdom tips.”

Divya‟s remark brought another proud grin on Aditya‟s face. Then,

she looked at Asif and winked, “That will give us an option… we don‟t

pay, we never hear them!”

Divya and Asif burst out laughing.

Aditya had forever been the butt of everybody‟s joke in their group.

He usually played along, especially if they came from Divya, for he had

a soft corner for her. Divya was smart, intelligent and sexy – exactly

the type of girl he had hoped to find in an English Honours course at a

Delhi University college in South Campus. However, it was soon clear

she was way out of his league. But he hung around, content to be her

friend, hoping Divya would invite someone like her into their group.

Unfortunately, it was not to be – Divya‟s need for attention and

control proved too much for other girls to handle.

“I think you need jogging more than this omelette,” Divya added.

“That won‟t help,” Asif quipped, “I know this guy… jogging will

make him so hungry afterwards, he would end up consuming more

calories than he burns!”

Asif and Divya laughed again, raising their hands for a high-five.

“Who the hell is overweight?” Aditya was unapologetic as he put his

hand on his bulging belly. “This is a sign of wealth and happiness.”

Saksham entered the canteen and was surprised to see his friends in

a jovial mood. He glared at Asif and shook his head in exasperation.

“So, was it another of your cheap jokes?” he asked Asif, as he gave

Divya an affectionate squeeze and took the seat next to her. He looked

back at Asif, waiting for an explanation.

“Well, you couldn‟t be more wrong…” Asif replied, “remember our

new prof… Dr Sen?”

“That ethics guy? What about him?”

“It seems he is a stickler for attendance. He has put up a list of

students who would fail his subject if they miss any more classes. And,

guess what? Your name is on the top of the list!” He paused for

emphasis. “I assume you wouldn‟t want to fail in any subject in your

final year.”

“Seriously?” Saksham shifted his indignation to their professor. “But

why? That stuff is pretty simple. Besides, he can‟t threaten us like that.

We are not kids, you know!”

“Well, he is a professor after all. They make the rules, we simply

follow.”

“But, why couldn‟t you tell all this on phone?”

“Don‟t you know him?” Divya said, not too pleased. “He played the

same prank on me.”

“After all, you both are equally good friends of mine.” Asif grinned.

“Now that you feel like thanking me, I feel obliged to say… you guys

are most welcome!”

“Thanks, if you insist!” Saksham glanced at his watch. “Let‟s go

then; it‟s almost time.”

“Uh, wait a minute,” Aditya implored.

“What for?”

“Our friend wants to increase his wealth and happiness by another

inch,” replied Asif, patting Aditya‟s belly. Divya and Asif burst out

laughing again.

“Your eyes look tired,” Divya said, casting a concerned look at

Saksham. “Looks like you didn‟t get much sleep.”

“Thanks to this professor… and, of course, you,” Saksham

complained.

“What did I do?”

“Lady, next time I am not dropping you home.”

“Come on, it was only five kilometres extra for you.”

“Five kilometres each side. And then, you were so drunk I had to

stop ten times to make sure you don‟t fall off.”

“That was only once. Anyways, it‟s time you ask your dad to buy

you a car. Or, we can take mine the next time.”

“Or, it might be cheaper and safer to find a new driver,” Saksham

teased her.

“You sure?” She gave a sly smile. “You want me to have all that fun

with someone else?”

“Correction… I meant just the driving part. For, everything else, at

your service!” He winked at her.

She raised her brows, “Well, it‟s a package deal. You get it all, or

you get nothing.”

“Madam, can I apply for replacement,” Aditya stepped in, “for that

driver-cum-everything-else position?” He couldn‟t hold back his grin.

“Shut up! Don‟t even think about it,” Divya cut him off at once. “You

can‟t dance, you are out in two pegs, and not to mention, need to drop

at least ten kilos.” She looked back at Saksham and pouted. “I guess it

is time I found someone else.”

“Cut the romance, guys,” Asif interrupted. “You‟re boring me.”

“Oh, I see envy in your eyes!” Saksham leaned forward and peered

into Asif‟s eyes with a serious look. “Dude, this loneliness is gonna kill

you some day! It is time you found someone… someone who can finger

the strings of your heart.”

Divya and Aditya burst out laughing at Saksham‟s imitation of a

harbinger of doom. Aditya paused momentarily, pointing his middle

finger up at Asif, “Finger… the strings… of his heart,” and resumed

his raucous laughter, loudly thumping the table in front of him. He

enjoyed those rare moments of getting back at Asif, who otherwise

was the perpetrator of most pranks.

As their laughter subsided, Divya grumbled, “Anyways, who is

worried about this stupid class. I‟m just gonna crash on the last

bench.”

“Not a bad idea, I need sleep more than anybody else.” The idea

delighted Saksham.

“And, here comes the omelette,” Aditya sounded almost reverent.

The service boy put the plate in the centre of the table. While

Aditya was busy settling the bill, Saksham grabbed one half of the

omelette sandwich, “Thanks man! Perfect timing, had no time for

breakfast.” Saksham winked at Aditya as he took a big bite. “A friend in

need is a friend indeed.”

Wasting no time, Asif picked up the other half, “A real friend… a

true friend… who shares his wealth and happiness.”

Aditya was not too happy as Asif and Saksham wolfed down their

halves with mock relish.

Divya glanced at her watch and got up. “Let‟s go boys… it‟s time.”

* * *

“Almost thought I came to the wrong class,” Dr Sudhakar Sen joked

about the sudden increase in attendance, but only a few students

smiled in return.

There were about fifty students in total. Asif, Saksham, Divya and

Aditya occupied the last row.

“As I pointed out earlier, the objective of this course is to highlight

the importance of being a socially responsible citizen. There is no

exam; attendance and participation are all that matter.” He paused.

“Trust me… I hate putting these notices. So, please help me avoid

them in future.” He moved on with the main agenda. “Since I see many

new faces, let‟s begin with a quick review… to bring everyone on the

same page.”

That was enough hint for Saksham. Craving for some rest, he

reclined himself against the bench and slid down, hiding behind the

tall student in front of him. Saksham slipped into deep slumber, almost

at will.

Several minutes later, Divya‟s sharp elbow prodded Saksham out of

his peaceful world. Annoyed, he directed his dry-eye stare at her, but

she was looking elsewhere. As his gaze followed hers, reality dawned

upon him – the entire class was staring at him. Being the centre of

attention was nothing new, but this felt different. He had Professor

Sen‟s attention too, who seemed to be expecting something from him.

“I suspect you may have missed my question,” Professor Sen‟s tone

was dripping with sarcasm. “Let me repeat… have you heard about the

golden rule of ethics?”

Saksham straightened himself and replied, a little abashed, “Uh,

sure… do unto others… as you would… have them… do unto you.”

“Please explain.”

“Uh… one should treat others as one would like others to treat oneself;

also called the ethic of reciprocity.”

“Okay,” said Professor Sen, rather grudgingly. “Any ideas about

Kant‟s theory?”

“The categorical imperative…” Saksham paused, digging into his

memory for details.

“And, what is that categorical imperative?” Dr Sen probed, almost

certain he had nabbed Saksham.

“Act only on that maxim through which you can; at the same time,

wish that it should become a universal law of nature.” Heads began to

turn towards Saksham as he continued, “Simply put, you should act

only on those principles that everyone else could act on as well… of

course, without making it a worse place than it is now.”

“And, that is one formulation of…”

Saksham took charge before Sen could finish, “The second

formulation stresses on respecting other people‟s humanity. It advises

people not to use others in ways they would never agree to themselves.

Basically, we should not manipulate people to suit our own selfish

needs. We should treat them as worthy of having their own goals.”

“Hmm… not bad!” Sen was forced to compliment Saksham. “But,

that still does not give you the right to sleep in the class.” Suppressed

sniggers and giggles filled the room. “I would urge you to stay with

us; you have potential to contribute to our discussions.”

“But why?” Saksham did something he had never done before – he

dared to rebel against authority.

An uncomfortable silence enveloped the class.

“I am sorry.” The twitch of the lower jaw muscle revealed Dr Sen‟s

discomfort. “Could you explain your question, please?”

“Sir, with due respect, this is simple stuff. When we can read by

ourselves, why is attendance so important? Why do we need to be

threatened with notices?” Saksham asked in an unusually belligerent

tone.

Dr Sen glanced around, judging everyone‟s reaction. “Let me start

by thanking you for being honest. That is the first thing we need for

an open intellectual discussion.” A faint smile crossed his face. “For

subjects like this, discussion is the best way to learn. The aim is not to

memorize these concepts and, at the end of the year, regurgitate them

on paper. If you cannot internalize what you learn, it would be a failed

effort. And I feel taking part in class discussions with an open mind is

the best way to truly understand these concepts.” He stopped and

looked at Saksham. “Does that make sense?”

“A little,” something seemed to have possessed Saksham.

“Okay…” Saksham‟s passive aggression continued to challenge

professor‟s patience. “You just showed that you understand basic ethics

theories rather well. Now, let us take an example and see if you can

apply it in practice. Tell me, in your opinion, is Indian society an

ethical one?” the professor asked Saksham.

“I think so, by and large.”

“Can you give me an example… a real life example where you can

apply these ethical theories to prove that Indian society is indeed an

ethical one?”

The question caught Saksham off-guard. While he struggled for an

example, Dr Sen opened the question to the rest of the class,

“Anyone?”

A girl in the first row, Deepti, raised her hand tentatively. “I don‟t

think so. There is so much crime and corruption in our country. I

would rate us pretty low on ethics.”

“And, what makes you think crime or corruption is non-ethical?” Dr

Sen probed further. “Can you use any ethics theory to support your

claim?”

“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” Deepti said,

“but a criminal is not thinking on those lines. A murderer won‟t be

happy if someone tries to kill him. A thief would not let someone else

steal from him. Or… a rapist would not willingly offer himself for

sodomy, for example.”

“You never know… may be he will,” someone snickered.

The entire class burst out laughing. Sen raised his hand to request

seriousness from the class.

Saksham joined in. “But everybody is not a criminal. Majority of the

people could still be ethical.”

“Why don‟t we take an example,” professor offered. “Let‟s say two

men are trying to rob an old man who just withdrew his whole life‟s

savings from the bank, to buy a house for his family. He is holding

onto the bag with his life. He cares little if he loses his life in the

process because, without that money, his life will reduce to ashes

anyway.” The professor paused, giving students time to contemplate.

“Now, we have two miscreants who, as Saksham pointed out, are a

social minority. We have a victim, who is again a minority. But, let‟s

say there are about fifty people watching this act as it happens – they

represent the majority. Everybody in agreement?”

Only a few nodded, while the rest stayed in thinking mode.

“I would take silence as agreement,” Sen smiled. “The majority is

watching from a distance, as the old man clutches on to his life savings

while the goons start kicking him, to loosen his grip on the bag. I

think we will all agree these goons are unethical. But, what about the

majority who are witnessing this incident unfold right in front of their

eyes? Are they ethical in their conduct?”

“Of course not,” Prerna replied. She was the front runner in the race

for top marks. “If they were in the same situation, they would certainly

expect people to help. So, by the law of reciprocity, if they are ethical,

they should help.”

“What if these goons are armed?” Divya had always been too eager

to oppose Prerna‟s points. “Why should people risk their life? I guess

they are justified in maintaining a distance.”

“So, you mean everybody is on their own? It is not a society then,

being ethical comes way down the list.”

“I think you both have some valid points,” Sen mediated. “Let us

move further… let‟s say they do have a gun and people are scared for

their life. The goons manage to snatch the bag and escape. The old

man is on the ground, crying for help. About ten people stay, watch

the old man‟s plight while others move on, discussing the increasing

lawlessness in the state.” Sen looked at Saksham, “Now tell me, are

these people ethical?”

“Perhaps not,” said Saksham defiantly, “because this case is skewed

to prove they are not ethical. In real life, there could be someone who

has noted down the bike number and offered the information to the

police. Someone else may have called the police already. Some others

may come forward and take the old man to hospital, if needed.”

“That is an ideal world,” Prerna cuts Saksham‟s off. “In reality, it

does not happen… not in this city, or this country.”

Asif quickly came to his rescue, “I think, if some people do what

Saksham suggested, we could call their actions ethical. But others, who

simply walk away – their apathy cannot be categorized as ethical.”

“That‟s a fair statement.” Dr Sen decided to move on, “Let‟s look at

corruption now. Tell me, what are some of the common forms of

corruption?”

“Scams”, “Commission”, “Forgery”, “Bribery”, the class echoed

several examples.

“Let‟s pick an easy one… bribery,” Dr Sen said. “Is bribery ethical?”

“I guess so…” Aditya was quick to defend it, “that‟s everyday

business. That‟s how things move.”

Deepti interjected, “That‟s absurd! Everything is wrong about it.”

“Examples, folks,” Professor Sen reminded them again. “Let us hear

something from this side.” He gestured to the middle rows on his

right.

“If you are offering a bribe, you are bending the rules in your

favour.” Tanmay supported Deepti, “Let us say five companies are

bidding for a project. Someone uses his links to bribe the decision

maker and earns the contract. On the other hand, someone else, who

has a better product, fails to get the contract because he tried an

honest route. Now, he has reasons not to feel good about it. The

decision making process has not been fair – it has been influenced by

monetary favours instead of product quality.”

Divya did not look convinced. “What if the bribe is just to expedite

the process? There is no competition there; you just want to get things

done,” she asked.

“What do you think? Is it ethical?” Sen redirected the question back

to her.

“I guess so… works like oil for our bureaucratic machinery,” she

smirked.

“I don‟t think so,” Prerna was quick to retort. “Those who have

extra money use it to expedite things, but that ends up screwing up

the whole process. The lower and middle classes suffer. First we pay

taxes that help pay for their salaries. On top of that, we need to pay

them bribes so they do what they were hired for in the first place.” Her

face turned red with indignation. “How can that be ethical… it is so

horribly unethical!”

“What is your opinion?” Professor Sen came back to Saksham.

“If it is illegal, it must be unethical, I guess,” Saksham replied

matter-of-factly.

“That could be another viewpoint.” Sen paused. “Now, coming back

to your question – the need for attendance. If you notice, the theory of

ethics has one version, but how we apply them differs from person to

person. The learning of ethics is incomplete until we engage in an open

and intellectual discussion like this.” He turned to address the whole

class. “I would like to stress the word open, because very often we all

have a tendency to get stuck with our viewpoints. Such pre-

dispositions will hamper your learning, and in turn, your ability to

grow as individuals. Of course, it is natural to feel passionate about

your thoughts and ideas, but I would urge you to keep your mind open

and give others an opportunity to influence your thoughts. Primarily

because, when you have a great idea, you want other people to listen to

you with an open mind. And, by the law of reciprocity, you ought to

offer others the same opportunity.”

“So, let us move on, keep an open mind and be ready to be influenced

by others‟ good ideas.”

* * *

“Prerna is a bitch, we all know that. But, I was shocked even you

took her side,” Divya fumed at Saksham, as they settled down in the

lawn outside the canteen, holding tea cups in their hand.

“Come on! I was taking no one‟s side. I just answered a question the

professor asked me,” Saksham defended. “Aren‟t we a free country

anymore? Whatever happened to freedom of speech?” he winked at

Asif.

“Well… freedom of speech does not really work under

dictatorship… you know, when you are reporting to a queen.” Asif

winked back.

“Asif, you stay out of this,” Divya put a quick end to their laughter,

and turned to Saksham. “Bribing is a way of doing things. It may be

illegal, but that is how things move.”

“Come on Divya, now you are exaggerating. Don‟t tell me things

don‟t get done without a bribe.”

“Not if you want to do something big, like having your own

business. You always need to bribe someone or the other, on a regular

basis,” Divya held her stand. “Ask your dad, he will tell you more

about it.”

Saksham felt that was uncalled for. He turned serious. “I know my

dad would never bribe anyone for illegal favours.”

“Take it easy, guys! It was just a discussion.” Aditya tried to calm

things down. “Class over, topic over.” He then looked at Divya, “By the

way, don‟t worry about Prerna. She hates you because she can‟t match

you. No matter how hard she tries, you will always be on top… studies

or looks.” He smiled and patted Divya on the shoulder.

“Thanks!” Divya found solace in Aditya‟s words. “Nice to see there is

someone on my side,” she said, still glaring at Saksham.

“Come on, I didn‟t say anything against you.”

“You better not,” she warned, and moved on. “Anyways, what was

that nonsense about practical work?”

“It‟s no big deal,” said Asif. “He wants us to observe the common

man in a public place. So, we just go to any place where there are lots

of people – a busy bus stop, a market, a bus or a train – observe them

for some time and take some notes. That‟s it.”

“What for?” Divya asked scornfully. “We would be out of college in

a few months; it is time to focus on our careers. And, he wants us to

waste time watching these… stupid… lower class people. How lame!”

Asif took offence to that remark, “Divya, for your information, I am

one of these, so called, lower class people.”

“Come on, Asif! You know I was not talking about you.”

“Relax Divs!” Saksham said. “It is just a matter of fifteen minutes,

max thirty.”

“You know how busy I am, with this MBA stuff. I have no time to

waste.”

“Don‟t worry, baby. If you don‟t want to do it, I will do it for you.

Just give me a sweet smile.” Saksham drew her close.

“Thanks!” She replied curtly; though her eyes stayed cold and her

face rigid.

Asif looked away. He did not seem too happy seeing Saksham bail

her out, yet again.

“Come on, you could smile a little,” Saksham implored. But Divya

remained stone-faced. He put his hand around her and whispered in

her ear, “By the way, the evening plan is still on, right?”

“I am not sure. Let‟s talk about it later.”

“Come on, your parents won‟t be back until midnight,” he cajoled

her, still whispering. “We can‟t miss a chance like that.”

Just then, Saksham‟s phone rang.

“Oh, it‟s Dad. Excuse me, guys.” He walked a few steps away. “Hello

Dad!” He listened carefully, saying “sure” every few seconds. “Okay

Dad. I will call him after I am done here.” He hung up.

“Everything okay?” Divya enquired.

“Yeah… Dad wants me to go to some place in the evening, after

college. He will send the driver,” Saksham sounded anxious as he

turned to Asif. “You will need to take my bike home, and pick me up in

the morning.”

“So, what is so bad about it?” Divya asked.

“Nothing…” he looked away, “just wants me to start getting

involved in the business.”

“Congrats, Captain!” Asif grinned, extending his hand towards

Saksham, “Looks like you‟ve just got a job.”

The idea of joining his father‟s business wasn‟t exciting at all.

Saksham was yet to figure out what he wanted to do after college. For

now, the mere thought of a full time job suffocated him; it meant an

end to his carefree world. An end to his freedom.

“I thought we were both going for MBA,” Divya interrupted his

thoughts, “hopefully to the same college.”

“Of course! Dad‟s business is only a backup option…” Saksham

clarified, “just in case nothing else works out.”

* * *

“So, where are we going?” Saksham asked.

“Police station,” Jitendra, the driver, replied cordially. “There is a

briefcase on the backseat.” Saksham turned to take a look. “It needs to

be given to the SHO (Station House Officer).”

“Cool… that‟s easy.” Relieved, Saksham reached for the car stereo,

increased the volume and leaned back on his seat, humming along.

The visit to the police station did not take long. Devender Singh,

the SHO, eagerly took the briefcase, scanned its contents, shut it down

and swiftly moved it under the table.

“Please ask Mr Rajput to send only thousand rupee notes next time.

You know it takes less space,” he said with a meaningful smile.

* * *

On the journey back, Saksham chose the backseat. Staring blankly

out of the window, he looked completely detached. He neither listened

to the music nor did he talk. He struggled to cope with the reality of

what had just transpired. Why couldn’t dad just tell me that I was going to

bribe someone?

“Is everything okay, Sir?” Jitendra asked. “You haven‟t said much

since you came back. I know this SHO is uncouth, hope he wasn‟t rude

or something.”

“I‟m fine, he didn‟t say anything,” Saksham replied. Then, after a

pause, he decided to dig deeper. “How long have you been working for

Dad? Been a while... right?”

“Full eight years, Sir,” Jitendra said proudly, “Nine... in August.”

“Then, I am sure you know why we went to the police station.”

“I guess…” Jitendra hesitated, “he must have asked for money. That

is what these guys do all the time.”

“And, do you know why we gave him that money?”

“What do I know, Sir? I am just a servant.”

“Jitendra, tell me the truth,” Saksham adopted an authoritative tone,

“I shall be joining office pretty soon. Don‟t you think I should know

about what happens in the company?”

Saksham put Jitendra in a tough spot. “Sir, I can only make a guess,

but please don‟t tell Sir that I told you this.”

“Of course not,” Saksham softened his tone.

“There is a factory worker who got injured few weeks back, while

working. He was asking for more money than what Sir was willing to

pay. So, he filed a police report and is now threatening to go to the

court for compensation.”

“But, how would bribing this SHO help?”

“That I am not sure… maybe he can help tweak some facts. You

know these guys are expert at that. On their own, they won‟t do one

right thing, but throw them money and they will do ten wrong things

without a hitch.”

Saksham was shocked. “I never thought dad would bribe someone

like that.”

“Who doesn‟t, sir? Everybody bribes – some by choice, others by

force.”

“Really? Whatever happened to honesty?”

“Who has time to think about honesty, Sir?” Jitendra seemed almost

resigned in his stoicism. “Three fourths of the population is hungry –

all they think, worry and dream about is their next meal. Those who

have enough to eat are busy accumulating more and more for the

future – so they are never short of anything.”

“That is an extremely pessimistic view, I would say. I am sure there

must be many who are still honest.”

“Sir, I will tell you who is honest these days. Jiska daav nahin lagta,

sirf wohi imaandar hai (one who hasn‟t yet found a shortcut to make

money, only that guy is honest). People are honest by their

circumstances… not by choice.” Jitendra sounded bitter as he shared

the belief he had learnt to live by.

Chapter 3

An Opportunity Lost Forever

Sunday, February 12, 2012

“So, how did you like the movie?” Saksham asked Asif as they walk

out of a South Delhi cinema hall on a Sunday evening.

“Great! Bond movies rarely disappoint. If the plot is lacking, the

action and the special effects will make up for it. If nothing else, there

are always gorgeous Bond girls,” Asif added with a delightful smile.

“How about you?”

“Not bad, but I liked the last one better.” Saksham glanced at his

cell. “Eight thirty. Should we take an auto?”

“Or, a bus?” suggested Asif.

“My mind is still whizzing with Aston Martins and 1200cc bikes,

and my reality… a pathetic DTC bus. Bad day for the bike to give up

on me,” Saksham sighed.

“Captain, the DTC buses are not what they used to be; these low-

floor buses are far more comfortable than an auto.”

“What difference does it make? It will still be midnight by the time

we reach home. And tomorrow we have that class I can‟t afford to miss

anymore.”

“Well, tomorrow‟s class is all the more reason to take the bus.

Remember, we need to finish our assignment of observing the common

man in a public setting.” Asif emphasised on the last part.

“Well, we don‟t need a bus for that, we can do that now. See that

guy?” Saksham pointed to a lean man walking in front of them, “thirty

seven, manual labour, going back home after work.”

Asif liked the idea, and joined him, “His bag holds a quarter of

country liquor. Looks anxious, probably anticipating the drama that

will unfold at home once he starts drinking.”

“Hmm… so you think he is planning a counter-strategy for his

wife‟s hot temper already?” Saksham mused. “But the real question

is… is he happy with life?”

“Well, with liquor in his bag, he has hopes,” Asif joked. “If drinking

and dinner go without argument, he should be happy enough for

tonight.”

“And, then?”

“A sound sleep, what else?”

“You sure? Even if there is no fight, and his wife behaves well… and

he has some energy left?”

“Oh, I know where your dirty mind is headed,” Asif grinned, “but

keep in mind – looking at his age – he might already have three or four

kids. Besides, his wife would be pretty exhausted by the time dinner is

over.”

“Like he would care,” Saksham quipped.

“Right, he may not,” Asif agreed with a smirk. “Who knows then, his

short burst of pleasure may add one more to our population.”

As they reach the bus stop, Saksham proposed, “Let‟s take whatever

comes first, auto or bus.”

“Okay,” Asif nodded in agreement, and asked, “What about that

guy?” He gestured towards an ice cream vendor walking in their

direction.

By the time they were done with their fifth character analysis, fifteen

minutes had passed, as had two DTC buses without stopping. They

managed to stop three auto-rickshaws, but none would go by the

meter. Asif refused right away.

“Dude, this is not going to work. We have to get home quick…

tonight.” Saksham‟s patience was now running thin.

“Captain, I am not doing this on purpose. These guys are

extortionists and they get worse after sunset.”

“I know,” he glanced at his cell, “but, it is almost nine. I guess it was

a bad idea to come here without a bike. Janak Puri or Vikas Puri would

have been much closer.”

“Are you crazy? You won‟t find this crowd over there.”

“Dude, I fail to understand you. What is the point of going after a

crowd if you are not gonna talk to anyone? I seriously think you

should have talked to that girl; the one sitting next to you.” Saksham

offered a friendly advice.

Asif simply ignored his comment.

Just then, a bike stopped at the bus stop, a little ahead of them. The

riders, a young man and a girl, looked like college students. The girl

got off and gave the rider a quick hug before he drove off.

“Five feet two, twenty, fair skin, black straight hair, very pretty,

probably from one of the hill states,” Asif turned his attention to the

young lady.

Saksham turned and gave a quick passing glance. “Anybody can see

that… the exercise is about digging deeper.”

“Hmm… off white bra, fair skin, smooth like marble, yet soft like a

feather…”

Saksham broke into an instant chuckle. “Dude, you are getting

cheaper by the day.” He punched Asif mockingly on his shoulder.

“Time to go get a girlfriend.”

“Well, I haven‟t found someone… like her.”

“There you have it. Go dig.”

“Her? Come on, she‟s got a boyfriend already.”

“What do you care? Besides, he could be her brother or just a

friend.”

“Captain, I saw them hug. If we were not around, who knows what

else they might have done.”

“I see, you lose without trying?” Saksham challenged Asif‟s guts.

Saksham‟s comment only added to Asif‟s discomfort. Like any other

guy, Asif longed for a girlfriend, but something seemed to stop him.

He was decent looking and very good with words, but it was probably

his financial insecurity that stopped him. Their household expenses

were barely afforded by his widowed mother. He gave private tuitions

after college to support his studies. Having witnessed how much

money couples like Saksham and Divya spent, he had come to believe

that dating was an expensive indulgence… something he couldn‟t

afford… definitely not until he had a job. He shrugged off the

comment with a smile and continued to admire the girl from a

distance.

When the next bus approached, Saksham quickly moved to the

middle of the road, trying to flag it down. The bus, however, did not

slacken its speed. Saksham was forced to retreat. Then, just as it

passed them, the bus came to a screeching halt, about thirty yards

ahead of them.

They both ran for the bus, along with other people standing there.

The conductor peeped out from the window and asked the girl who

was the first to reach it, “Madam, where do you want to go?”

“Dwarka,” she replied.

He opened the door, “Get in, quick.”

“It‟s going to Dwarka.” Asif looked at Saksham. “We can take auto

or Metro from there.”

They both boarded the bus without losing another second. An old

man also boarded the bus behind them, accompanied by a boy in his

early teens.

The bus was only half full. The girl walked down towards the back

and took a window seat.

“Let‟s stand here,” suggested Asif, and stationed himself near the

front door. “It‟s a good vantage point for our observation assignment.”

“Assignment, or your voyeuristic pleasures?” Saksham winked, and

then, gave the girl a look over. “Dude, you were right… the lady is a

delight to the eyes,” he whispered.

“Captain, you better keep your eyes off her.”

“Listen, if you really like her that much, why not go and talk to her,”

Saksham said. “This is the perfect opportunity.”

“Come on!” Asif looked shocked at the proposition, like this was the

most ridiculous thing he ever heard. “I can‟t just go and talk to her.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you can‟t.” Asif wouldn‟t budge.

“Here, watch me,” Saksham smiled, and before Asif could understand

those words, Saksham turned and began walking towards the back of

the bus.

“Saksham!” A hushed warning from wide-eyed Asif proved only too

late. Five or six short steps later, Saksham was standing next to the

vacant seat adjacent to the girl who was busy browsing songs on her

phone. Her earphones were firmly plugged in.

Saksham tapped at the back of the seat in front of her. She looked up.

“Hi!” he greeted her with a wide 400-watt smile across his face, his

brows raised in surprise. “Pooja, Pooja Negi, right?”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?” She pulled one of the

earphones out to free her ear.

“Pooja Negi, DPS Dwarka, class of 2009,” Saksham‟s ear-to-ear grin

was still intact, “Remember me, Saksham? We were in the same

section until class ten, then you took commerce and I…”

“I think you are mistaken.” Her face relaxed a little. “I didn‟t study

in that school.”

“You sure?” he persisted. “Hope you are not still mad at me. I know

we were not the best pals, but…”

She cut him off again, “I am no Pooja. My name is Namrita. I can

show you my college I-card, if you want.” Her tone was polite and

formal.

“No, of course not.” His smile was gone now. “I trust you.” He

pouted and turned to go, but then stopped, and looked back at her.

“And, Pooja is not your twin sister either?” With pleading eyes that

looked too eager to extend the conversation, he waited for her

response.

“No twin sister. I have no sisters for that matter.”

“Oh… oh… and no look-alike cousin sister either?” Saksham asked

with a smile.

His friendly smile proved contagious this time. A hint of smile

reached her lips too. “Nope, no cousin sister either.”

“Hmm…” Saksham raised his hand in apology. “Sorry… sorry for

disturbing your peace.”

“It‟s okay… it happens.” A confirmed smile this time.

“By the way, I am Saksham… Venkateshwara College, English

Honours, final year.” He offered his hand with a charming smile. “Nice

to meet you… Namrita.”

She gave Saksham an evaluating glance. Besides good college

credentials, he looked like a decent guy from a good family. She took

his hand tentatively. “Same here.”

“Some day when I meet Pooja, I am gonna tell her about you.” He let

her hand go without delay. “Have a good rest of your life! And take

care.”

“Her name is Namrita,” Saksham said boastfully as soon as he settled

down next to Asif. “See, you can talk to women… just like that.”

But Asif was rather mad. “Now, you will see what I am going to do.

I will spice it up and lay it all out in front of Divya. She is gonna chop

you down into small pieces and have you for breakfast, lunch and

dinner… over several days.”

Saksham burst into non-stop laughter, at the misery of his dear

friend.

Two stops later, most passengers got off the bus, leaving behind the

few who had boarded the bus along with Saksham and Asif.

“Ouch!” A loud female voice from the back of the bus broke the

silence. Saksham and Asif turn to look at the source of the noise; it was

the same girl. She looked indignant, as she addressed the man sitting

next to her. “You better stay away from me. Or, I will call the police.”

The twenty-something man looked like a manual labourer. “Cool

down, madam! I didn‟t touch you on purpose. The bus took a sharp

turn and I simply lost balance,” he offered an excuse.

“Boss, why don‟t you sit elsewhere?” Saksham called out. “There are

enough empty seats in the bus.”

The conductor came rushing and intervened, “Please sit down. I will

talk to him.” Saksham and Asif sat down reluctantly. The conductor

walked down to the back of the bus.

When things seemed to have settled down, the conductor walked

towards the front, into the driver‟s cubicle.

“I don‟t know, but something doesn‟t feel right,” Asif said.

“Relax! It is the Bond effect,” Saksham grinned, “usually happens

after you watch these action-packed movies.”

“No, Captain, I am serious. That guy looks rather drunk. He may

not have good intentions.”

“Let me check.” Saksham propped himself up and looked back. “It is

all fine. That guy is now seated somewhere else.”

“You sure?”

“What do you think I am blind?”

“It must be okay then, I guess,” Asif gave in reluctantly.

A few minutes later, two men who had been sitting in the driver‟s

cabin all this while, come out and walked straight to Saksham and Asif.

One of them bent down and asked softly, “Where are you guys

headed?”

His breath smelt of country liquor. Asif flinched.

Saksham replied, “Vikas Puri and…”

“Not going there,” the man cut Saksham off. “You can get off at the

next stop.”

“We know you guys are going up to Dwarka only,” Asif interjected.

“We shall manage from there.”

“Well, we are not going to Dwarka yet. Most of the bus is empty, so

we are taking a different route. Will drop you off at Dhaula Kuan; you

can find something there.” His tone made it clear he was not offering

options.

“You can‟t change the route just like that!” Asif complained.

The short and stocky guy who was quiet until now, bent over Asif,

“Listen brother… this is our bus. We take it through whatever fucking

route pleases us.” He reached under his shirt to grab something tucked

under his belt. He was unshaven, un-bathed and reeked even more of

country liquor.

“Easy guys! Take it easy!” Saksham intervened.

“Ask your friend to take it easy,” the short guy retorted. “Next stop,

get your asses off.”

The first guy put a hand on the short guy‟s shoulder, to calm him

down. He then looked at Saksham, “Please try to understand… it has

been a long day for us. We want to take it a little easy, if you don‟t

mind.”

“What‟s the difference? We need to take an auto anyway,” Saksham

reasoned with Asif. He saw no point in arguing.

“What about others? Is everyone getting off at the next stop?” Asif

asked.

“We just talked to everyone…” the first guy replied, “we will drop

them further down. We are dropping you here so you can get an auto.”

The short guy looked out of the window and whistled to the driver.

“Here comes your stop.”

Asif got up disgruntled. “This is insane!”

“Take it easy,” Saksham nudged him forward, “let‟s go.”

As they walked to the front gate, they turned their head for a

moment. The girl at the back had her eyes closed, her back and head

resting against the seat. The earphones were firmly plugged in.

The bus stopped for just enough time to let them out and

immediately gained speed.

Asif was incensed. “I think we should call the cops.”

Saksham ignored him and started pacing towards the first auto-

rickshaw his eyes located. Asif followed behind, unenthusiastically.

Some hundred metres farther ahead, the bus made another stop. The

old man and the teenage boy got off the bus, and the bus disappeared

into the darkness of uncertainty.

* * *

Monday, February 13, 2012

The next day in the ethics class, Professor Sen decided to take

students‟ feedback on their assignment of observing the common man.

While the professor wrote key points on the board, Saksham tuned out

and glanced at his watch. He was concerned about Asif‟s unannounced

absence. Asif had not picked up Saksham‟s calls either. It was very

unusual of him, for Asif was an early riser.

As the class came to an end, the professor announced another

assignment for which students must visit three NGO‟s of their choice.

Sen proposed that the assignment would help sensitize students

towards social issues.

“This guy is completely crazy,” Divya sounded awfully grouchy.

“It is time you raised your voice and shared your views,” Saksham

whispered back teasingly.

She stared back stone-faced, “Listen… I am not doing this.”

That was enough hint for Saksham to understand this would be just

another assignment that he will have to do for her. He shrugged

resignedly and went back to wondering about Asif‟s absence.

After the class, Saksham felt relieved to find Asif sitting on the steps

outside canteen. Saksham couldn‟t read his face yet, but something

looked wrong. Asif was holding his head in his hands, looking down at

the ground. Saksham paced ahead, leaving Divya and Aditya behind.

“Dude, what‟s wrong?” Saksham asked, as he approached him.

Asif returned a blank stare, his face expressionless.

Divya and Aditya join seconds later. “What‟s wrong?” they asked

too. Asif finally found his voice. “Remember that girl on the bus last

night?” he asked Saksham.

“Yes… what about her?”

“After we left… those bastards…”

“They… what? What did they do?”

“They raped her.”

“WHAT?” Saksham‟s eyes widened with disbelief. “How… when… I

mean, how did you find out?”

“It is all in the papers.” He took the paper out of his bag and pointed

to the news item on the front page, „College student gang-raped in

moving bus!‟

Divya grabbed the paper for a closer look.

Asif continued, “There is no picture of her, but the description

matches perfectly – white chartered bus, tinted glasses, gang of five,

bus driver plus four helpers, a girl about twenty years old, and the bus

was going from South Delhi to Dwarka.”

Divya began reading from the paper, “They dropped all other

passengers at Dhaula Kuan and took a diversion towards the ridge.”

“SHIT! It does sound like her,” Saksham echoed Asif‟s suspicion.

“Those rascals raped her in the moving bus.” Asif looked at

Saksham. “Remember her innocent face? They beat her so bad they

disfigured her face… eyes swollen, cheeks badly cut from inside.” Asif

continued sharing gruesome details, “One of the guys gagged her with

his socks, and when she puked, they laughed. She pleaded, she cried,

but they did not stop. Poor girl… she resisted hard, but it only

intensified their brutality. They hit her repeatedly with a broken chair

handle! She fell unconscious, but even that did not stop those

maniacs… they kept raping her unconscious body.”

“Please stop it.” Saksham shuddered and shut his eyes, trying to

control his emotions.

Asif carried on in a choked voice, “They dumped her, stripped of all

clothing, by the roadside. She cried for help, but no one came forward.

Some said she was mad, while others simply watched. A crowd

gathered… but no one came forward to help. Can you believe it? She

lay there for a full one hour, but no one helped. The largest democracy

in the world… huh! I spit on it. Heartless!”

“Where is she now? Did anyone take her to the hospital?” Aditya

asked.

“She is in AIIMS now, but her condition is extremely critical. That

is all the paper said,” Divya replied.

Saksham was in shock, at a complete loss of words!

“Guys, whatever happened is horrifying, but I don‟t understand…

how are the two of you involved?” Divya asked.

“We were in the same bus. This thing happened just after we got

off,” Saksham replied.

“Let me correct him,” Asif offered, “we were kicked out of the bus.

We could sense something was wrong… but we kept quiet. We lost

the opportunity to save her.”

Asif‟s words hit Saksham hard. A sudden realization of apathy filled

him with an acute feeling of guilt.

“Come on guys, you wouldn‟t know this whole thing was going to

happen,” Divya argued.

“May be not the whole thing… but it was a little shady, I guess,”

Saksham supported Asif. “I am sorry, man, for letting you down. You

were right, we should have called the cops.”

“Call the cops and say what? That the bus dumped you midway?

That‟s no crime.” Aditya rejected the notion.

“He is right,” Divya sided with Aditya. “Guys, listen… it‟s not your

fault. There was no way you could have stopped it. The cops won‟t

move their asses just because someone was treated badly in the bus.”

“What about those guys? Has anyone been arrested?” Saksham

asked Asif.

“They are still at large,” Asif replied. “She shared some details with

police before losing her consciousness. Police said the information may

not be enough… they need witnesses.”

“That‟s two of us,” Saksham said.

“Saksham, don‟t be crazy,” said Divya, signalling disagreement. .

“Why get into unnecessary trouble? You guys didn‟t see anything

happen; how can you be witnesses?”

“We can share what we saw,” Saksham replied matter-of-factly.

“The police can decide how useful it is for them.”

“Won‟t it be better if she tells the story herself? She has much more

details than you guys do.”

“Divya, you probably missed… she is critical, and right now,

unconscious,” Asif snapped. “We don‟t even know if she will survive.”

He looked at Saksham. “We must do what we can.”

“Let‟s go and first make sure she is the same girl.”

“Saksham, if you don‟t want to listen to me, don‟t, but for God‟s

sake, talk to your dad before you do anything stupid.”

“Why would he disagree?” Saksham questioned Divya.

“Just talk to him, okay?” Divya said sternly.

“Okay, I will.” Saksham got up and looked at Asif, “Let‟s go.”

Before leaving the college, Saksham tried calling his father several

times, but the line stayed busy. Twenty minutes later, just as he was

parking his bike outside the hospital, his father called back.

“What did he say?” Asif enquired, as Saksham finished the short call.

“Can‟t believe it… he said no,” Saksham punched the bike‟s seat in

frustration. “Says forget about it. If someone calls, tell them you don‟t

remember any faces.” Saksham looked shattered. “I never thought Dad

would talk like that.”

“I‟m not surprised, Captain. That‟s how most people think.”

“Sorry, man. I‟ll need to disappoint you one more time,” Saksham

looked listless. “You know… I can‟t go against dad.”

Thank You!

Thank you for taking time to read this sample

from ‘Wings of Courage’!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

An engineering graduate from IIT Kharagpur,

Sanjay Kumar went on to pursue a successful

career in IT industry. A decade later, his quest

for meaning and a passion for writing, led him

to abandon his high paying job in North

Carolina, USA and return to the by-lanes of

New Delhi, India.

After a tryst with India‟s emerging political scenario and working

towards his vision for an ideal nation, Sanjay wrote his debut novel

“Wings of Courage”.

Sanjay lives in New Delhi with his wife and two young sons. He can be

reached at wingsofcourage@india.com.