Phantom Of My Dreams

Phantom, the ghost who walks, was my favourite school level comics. The idea of a phantom who stood up against the evil always remained evergreen in my mind. Only later in life I possibly realized that there could be a racist dimension and the white man’s burden in the evolution of the concept of the phantom. Are questions like these could he not have been a coloured hero? cropped up in the mind.

As a writer, I became my own phantom, the correct political version and the protagonists of this story here.

Malleswaram, Bangalore 2020.

An upscale and upper-caste locality of Bangalore, what with its lanes dotted with the temple, Sankey Tank, Chowdiah Memorial Hall and numerous tiffin centres which serve up a foaming south Indian filter coffee and steaming idli or dosa crispies. If you know Malleswaram you would know that the main roads and crossroads criss-cross each other. It is easier to move around in two-wheelers than in the cars. Evenings are when at the shopping centres, the crowded throng and the women come out decked out with flowers and jewellery adorning them. While the men are still pushing either file or keying away in their computers.

The Inspector at the Malleswaram police station was highly alarmed when the constable on the beat reported yet another case of chain snatching in one of the by-lanes of Malleswaram. The season of festivities has begun and the COVID seems to have subsided a bit emboldening the women and youth to step out of their home, maybe even with a bit of rebellion.

An idea was forming in my mind and I decided to pay a visit to the police station and meet the Inspector there in the garb of journalists. I told the Inspector I am meeting with the intention of writing up a special report which would also enable the community especially women to get more cautious. Inspector got convinced and briefed me at length and shared some insights from his reading of the file.

It became clear that there was a gang operating there undertaking both chain snatching, eve-teasing and even molestation. It was bikers who were at large and taking advantage of the layout with crisscrossing by lanes. I was seething with anger when I wrote up the report not for any journal but for my own understanding. The last straw on the camel’s back soon followed when my friend’s wife became the latest victim.

I decided to become the coloured phantom myself and borrowed his devil (not a dog but wolf) and his famous skull mark bearing ring. His white horse (Hero) was out of place in this modern world but I used my own bike christened as the black stallion and manufactured by the Branded company Hero Motors. Again, I did not darn any phantom suit to merge with the crowd but put on a specially designed T-shirt with the phantom logo and a biker’s jacket paired up with black sneakers. I had taken some self-defence in school and colleges and confident of fairly defending myself.

I set out on a weekday in the twilight hours and began prowling the street hunting the hunters. First few days were uneventful for me but the police station reported incidents all the three days. I kept patience and on Friday morning I woke up with a tingling in the body. I had this notion today was going to be the day of the phantom. The day passed off in a buzz. On the evening I began my prowling with the devil at the back on a specially designed seat holding on to my shoulders. We had practised our moves in the early mornings before dawn and were ready with anticipation.

It was around 8 pm when I had almost given up when I heard the scream and saw a speeding bike. I noticed it turning left into a lane. I turned on the acceleration and soon caught up. At my signal, the devil leapt on to the lonely road with a deep growl that sent me shivers down my own spine. The rider too must have heard and lost his momentary balance. The man at the pillion fell on the road and the devil took a few leaps and held him by the throat as he has been trained by the phantom.

I soon caught up with the rider and cornered him. I hit him hard with my ring on his jaws and broke it and left a deep impression on the skull. I left him there and came back to the man held by my devil. All this happened in a few seconds on the deserted by lane. The second man too got the same treatment. I called the police from a fake sim.

That night I left a sheet of paper at the police station with the impression of the ring and a caption “Black Phantom.” I sent a similar sheet of paper to the newspaper which has been covering the chain snatching case.

The next day on the front page was the report that two chain snatchers were caught by a mysterious black phantom with a photo of the skull impression that I had sent.

Phantom of my dream has arrived.