The Don and the Damsel
The Don and the Damsel


The office was as usual bustling, this day the 30th of November was no different to other office staff that were in the process of settling down on their designated desks for the next eight hours of arduous public dealing. Salim took his seat and put his water bottle and lunch box in the creaking drawer of the wooden table in the same way as he had been doing for the last forty years. For a moment he became so engrossed in the files pending on his desk that he forgot that this was his last day in office. While he took out his pen from the pocket, Salim caught a sight of his new shirt which his daughter Hera had coaxed him to wear on the day of his retirement.
Except a few affectionate glances and winks from his aging friends, nothing unusual happened in the office while Salim went through the files. It was during the lunch break while he spread the old newspaper on his table to put the lunch box, Salim’s mind momentarily drifted to that cold January morning forty years back when he had joined as a junior clerk in this office. His mind continued to wander while he munched his routine lunch pack of two rotis and a staple vegetable mix. A kaleidoscope of thoughts razed past his mind refreshing forty years of memories which were both fond and painful. He remembered the day when he lost his first wife due to dengue. The next moment his memories catapulted him to his second marriage to a distant cousin precisely twenty-five years back. A faint smile crossed his parched lips when his mind stumbled upon the memory of the birth of his daughter some twenty-two years back. Salim’s train of memories was broken when the peon put a fresh bundle of files on his desk. Salim realized there were tears in his eyes, he took a mouthful of water from the bottle and once again settled down to finish the files. While he glanced on the other desks, he realized life was normal for other colleagues.
While the office gate closed at five in the evening, Salim realized that all the office staff had converged in the office of the Superintendent. A couple of his colleagues escorted Salim to the place where the other office staff was standing. A thin film of tear covered Salim’s eyes. He didn’t see for sure who placed the rose garland around his neck. The Superintendent was speaking something which pertained to extolling his long service to the office. The makeshift function lasted fifteen minutes. Salim glanced, for the last time, towards his chair which will have a new occupant tomorrow.
His wife and daughter were at the door of the house to welcome Salim. Although both daughter and wife realized the pain of retirement which Salim would be undergoing but Hera had made an effort to put a spirited show of exuberance to celebrate her father’s retirement. The dinner was laid out with Salim’s favourite biryani. That night Salim found the reality of retirement a difficult task to handle. His mind fumbled time and again to the forthcoming financial hardships. It was around midnight that Salim spoke to his wife about the proposal to rent out a portion of their house. He reasoned that this will in a way offset the financial hardships post retirement.
Salim’s house was in the lane adjacent to the ICICI Bank. A few days later when he visited the bank, Salim put a word to some of the employees that there was a vacant space in his house which he wanted to rent out. Javed had recently joined as Assistant Manager at the ICICI Bank and was searching for a suitable place to live in the vicinity of the Bank. The Branch Manager told Javed about the availability of the accommodation at Salim’s place in the adjacent lane. Javed made a mental note to visit Salim’s house in the evening.
It was dusk and Salim was preparing to go to the mosque for the evening prayers. The door bell rang while he was still in the final stages of ablution ritual, Salim called Hera to check out at the door. Hera was in the midst of kneading the flour when she heard the doorbell. With sticky dough on her hand, she draped the shawl around her shoulders and opened the door. Finding an unknown person made Hera conscious. Involuntarily she checked her drape and looked at the stranger with inquisitive countenance. Javed’s eyes met her gaze. In that unkempt demeanor Hera looked innocently ethereal. For a moment Javed lost his reason, his basic instinct egged him to savor this moment. While Hera stood on the other side of the door with an enquiring gaze, Javed fumbled to find words to ask whether this place belonged to Mr Salim and that he wanted to meet him, if possible.
Salim found Javed to be a well-mannered boy with decent antecedents. He was willing to pay the rent without any haggling. The deal was finalized and Javed left Salim’s house with a new address and a lingering memory of flour smeared dazed damsel.
The demarcation in the house was such that Javed had full privacy from Salim household. It was a rare moment when he would get a glimpse of Hera. Life moved on. Salim had settled into his retired lifestyle. On a couple of occasions, he did invite Javed for dinner but the middle-class religious upbringing never made Hera to come in front of Javed or to strike a conversation. Despite her discomfiture in meeting Javed with any direct eye contact, on occasions when she did glance at Javed she found him good – looking.
Javed found the family of his land lord affable. Salim and his wife on occasions offered home cooked food for Javed. It was a Monday morning when it started to rain heavily. Javed was getting ready to go to the bank when he suddenly found Salim knocking at his room. Salim looked worried. He told Javed that Hera had to take a competitive examination today and that with heavy rains and water logging she was not getting any public conveyance. Salim implored Javed to take Hera to the examination center on his motorcycle.
Both Javed and Hera were conscious of each other. Despite the exigency of the moment, Javed felt an unknown excitement while he drove to the examination center in that soft drizzle. At times Hera felt her hands clutching Javed, albeit involuntarily, in an effort to balance herself when the motorcycle waded through water logged streets. Even with a profound effort not to let her mind wander to the tune of evolutionary instinct, Hera found it impossible to distract her mind from sensing the warmth of Javed’s body in that wet atmosphere. Today she felt an emotion which was alien to her until now. She felt happy.
While an innocent admiration was brewing between two individuals, just half a kilometer from Salim’s house a lavish party was underway to celebrate the election victory of Jabir in the State assembly elections. The new MLA was entertaining his guests with all the vices available to humans. The guest list included, among others, every known criminal of the town. After all, this was the occasion where politics was having a rendezvous with crime.
After becoming an official lawmaker, thanks to the modern definition of democracy, Jabir found it very easy to break law for sundry reasons. In the next six months he controlled all the liquor shops, sand mining leases and development tenders. Jabir’s writ ran across the town, few had the courage to defy his diktat.
While Jabir’s fortunes were spiraling in the new role of an elected representative, his marital life was giving him troubles. Jabir’s flashy lifestyle and his love for extra marital flings had become a reason for divorce which his wife was seeking through a court notice. All his efforts to browbeat the petition had been in vain. The eminent separation with his wife had happened. Given his clout Jabir was in no way dependent on marital status to seek contentment, however, he felt he needed to show himself as a family man for popular public perception. Recently Jabir had received feelers from several quarters about beautiful girls whom he might consider marrying.
Someone close to Jabir had spoken to him about a beautiful girl who was the daughter of a retired government servant and lived near the ICICI bank just a few hundred meters away. Within no time Jabir had the biodata of the girl in question. Jabir found out that the girl belonged to a lower middle-class family with just old parents as guardian. The girl’s image perfectly suited Jabir’s quest for a showpiece wife with a meek background who would not object to his other interests.
It was Saturday and a day off for Javed. He was coming out of his room when he saw two white Toyota Fortuner cars stop at the door of his landlord. In the last six months Javed had got a fair idea of visitors at Salim’s place. The arrival of Fortuner cars with unknown guests was something new.
Salim didn’t recognize the guests either although he threw open the door to let the guests inside. Salim noticed that only the female guests had come out of the cars, there were some people in the other car who didn’t come out and remained seated. The female guests were in expensive clothes and were ostensibly carrying a few gifts. Salim’s wife was also perplexed but played host with all humility. The conversation meandered between normal exchange of pleasantries and everyday life. It was after about thirty minutes that the elderly lady in the visiting group dropped the question of Hera’s marriage to Jabir. Hera’s mother was not prepared for such a question. She had no answer, however, she did get an inkling that the tone of the proposal was not in the form of a question but as a foregone conclusion.
Although Salim had never met Jabir but he knew him as an influential MLA who commanded respect by his unlawful acts. The events of this evening had been frightening for the family. Salim realized that he was caught between the devil and the deep sea. Marrying Hera to Jabir was tantamount to mortgaging his daughter to an environment of crime and deceit.
Events happened fast from the time the unknown visitors had come to Salim’s place. Almost everyday there was a flurry of activity with expensive cars and equally bejeweled visitors visiting Salim’s house. Amidst the din of high-profile visitors, Salim’s wish and voice had no influence. He was just a spectator to a proposed marriage of his daughter to the most dreaded man in the locality.
Hera was treated like a princess by Jabir after marriage which was a grand affair with the elite of the town in attendance. The constant flow of visitors and the new responsibility of being presentable made Hera so busy that she lost her hitherto constant contact with her parents. It was a good couple of months later that Hera started to feel pangs of loneliness in the sprawling mansion which now seemed suffocating. Despite being bathed in indulgence, Hera felt that she had to seek permission to go out even to her parental house. On rare occasions when she went outside, she was accompanied by security.
Time passed; the initial euphoria of marriage waned. Hera was now realizing the reality of Jabir’s life. Every day she overheard conversation between her husband and his associates which spoke of murder, abduction and crime. Hera grew restless. At times she got a feeling that Jabir was indulging in extra marital relationships. She realized that she was being treated as a namesake wife who was just a prisoner. Hera was now not allowed to meet her parents. She had lost all touch with them.
A year had passed for Salim since he last saw Hera. Aging has been fast after retirement. Salim and his wife were now perennial patients. At times Salim thought how lucky he was to have Javed as a tenant. Javed was always at hand to help Salim manage his post retirement niggles. Javed too felt a void after Hera’s marriage. On numerous occasions he had to console his mind to distract it from the fond memories of Hera. At times he found himself cursing his shyness for not being able to muster the courage of talking to her. Forlorn in thought, he would frequently remember his feelings when Hera sat on the pillion of his motorcycle. It was well past midnight that Javed’s mind prompted a plan. He started contemplating. Taking on Jabir was akin to challenging Goliath, but he knew to get Hera he had to become David.
Jabir’s mansion was under security 24x7. The gate was manned and Jabir had issued clear instructions that both entry and exit was to be checked. It was Sunday morning when Javed reached the vicinity of Jabir’s house. The mansion was the last house on the road before a dead end. A few roadside shanties dotted the path. Javed stopped at the tea vendor and ordered a
tea. He saw a barber shop and a sweetmeat shop nearby. At the far end he could see the big green gate with embossed insignia of MLA.
The following week passed with Javed contemplating options. When Saturday came, he again went to the lane which led to Jabir’s house. On this occasion, Javed took a seat in the barber shop keeping an eye on the house at the end of the road. He realized that there was very little traffic on the road, a few big cars did find their way inside the gate. Other than these sporadic occasions, the gate was mostly closed with two security guards. Today Javed spent a couple of hours biding his time in the barber shop and then sipping two cups of tea. It was just before noon, while he was preparing to go back to his room, that Javed saw a man walking upto the MLA house. The man carried a shoulder bag and he did speak to the guard about something. Javed saw the guard going inside. A couple of minutes later, Javed saw a woman come up the gate and receive a packet from the man who was carrying the bag. From the brief glimpse Javed could recognize Hera. The gate closed. Javed waited for the man to return. When he saw the man from close quarters, Javed recognized that he was a postman.
Javed’s plan started to find substance. He played back the events and his observations of the Saturday morning. The postman was a big clue. His mind again reminisced about Hera. From a far recess of his mind, a memory of Hera became alive. He recollected that on an occasion when he had visited the inside of Salim’s house on a dinner invitation, he had seen a shelf full of Urdu novels and periodicals.
The next Saturday, sporting a worn-out Khaki uniform and a tilted cap, Javed walked gingerly towards Jabir’s house with a shoulder dangling bag full of packed envelopes and packets. He reached the gate where one of the sleepy guards accosted him. Javed had already played this scenario many times in his mind. He explained to the guard that a registered parcel had come for Mrs Hera Jabir. The guard silently walked inside the gate asking the postman to wait. It took an unusually long time for someone to respond. Javed’s heart was pumping blood twice its capacity. His adrenaline was in over drive. After five minutes Javed saw the gate open. Hera emerged looking disillusioned and bored. She looked towards the postman. The postman handed her a packet. Hera’s eyes caught a glimpse of the postman, her more than 80 billion neurons in the brain searched to piece together where she had seen this postman before. She found the answer, her eyes met Javed’s gaze. Hera’s memory went back almost three years back while she had stared, with disheveled looks, at a stranger who was standing at the door. The postman fished out a paper and pen and asked Hera to sign. Hera signed but didn’t miss the note written on the paper “read page 50”.
Hera experienced a tsunami of emotions. While she was happy to see Javed approach her, her knowledge of the reach and capability of Jabir was too intimidating. She started to think about Javed’s safety. In the comfort of her room Hera unpacked the book. It was a monthly edition of a popular Urdu language magazine. Nothing unusual. She remembered the postman’s note about page fifty. She glanced at page 50. Two printed pages had been inserted in the magazine at pages 50 and 51. She started reading what was written in those pages. The contents brought mixed feelings to Hera’s mind. The plan looked feasible and achievable but if gone wrong the repercussions could be equally disastrous. That night she didn’t sleep. When Jabir saw an Urdu book at the table, he inquisitively flipped it but couldn’t understand its content. He spared a moment to glance at the pictures of girls in pretty dresses but paid no heed to the content.
Javed returned to his room excited. Seeing Hera after such a long time evoked fond memory. He realized he loved Hera. He again cursed himself for not expressing his love for Hera when she was not married. That night he didn’t sleep peacefully. Thoughts of Hera and the next part of the plan punctuated his disturbed and erratic sleep. He made a mental note of things to do on Sunday.
The next day Javed called his old friend Atul who had a clinic in the old city. He fixed an appointment with him. From his friend Javed got the telephone numbers of few drivers who were operating ambulances. He contacted each one and then visited them. Manoj was in his fifties, he had long known Dr Atul and frequently ferried his patients. When Javed approached Manoj and explained his work, Manoj became jittery. Albeit politely, Manoj refused Javed. Two other ambulance drivers were approached but non showed courage to say yes to Javed’s proposal.
Javed found himself losing the plot. He decided to take another chance. The next day Javed went to a used automobile store which had several dilapidated vehicles waiting for a prospective buyer. Moving through the long line of dirt laden assorted collection of vehicles, Javed found an ambulance. He negotiated the price of the ambulance and purchased it. The owner was also happy since such vehicles usually went unsold.
Javed spent a few thousand rupees to get the vehicle in running condition. He paid no heed to the other gadgets or to the worn-out tyres. He knew he required this vehicle for a specific purpose, there was no need of any medical equipment.
While Javed was busy preparing for his plan, Hera was constantly coaxing her mind to pump more courage in her heart to execute the plan which was explained on page 50 and 51 of the Urdu magazine.
This Saturday morning was no different in Jabir’s mansion. Jabir had woken up early and completed his exercise and yoga routine according to everyday schedule. Today he was to address a public function in the forenoon. Later he was slated to meet the District magistrate in connection with a few cases of land grabbing which Jabir’s adversaries had recently raked in the newspapers. While Jabir took his seat on the table for breakfast, he didn’t find Hera. Jabir enquired and was told that Hera was unwell. Jabir paid no heed to Hera’s medical condition and continued with his chores. Within fifteen minutes the cavalcade of three vehicles exited the gate and brazenly, siren blaring, went on the road. As if on cue, the few visitors in the tea stall and the barber shop stood with folded hands before the passing cavalcade.
Although Hera was under strict instructions not to use the phone to call any other number except Jabir, Hera picked up the phone and did something she had not done before. She made a missed call to the number mentioned on page 50 of the magazine.
Hera realized she had reached the part of the plan which was at the point of no return. She went outside her room and walked up to the kitchen. Although she usually had no work in the kitchen but sometimes, she did visit the place to kill boredom. Today she went to the kitchen for something else. As she reached the kitchen where two maids were in different stages of preparing meal, she fainted. Her loud thud startled everyone within hearing distance. The maids frantically tried to revive Hera but she was motionless. Someone yelled to call a doctor. The security person called Jabir. The public function where Jabir was the chief guest was already underway when Jabir received a call on his private number. He listened to his security guard and then called his friend who owned the biggest hospital in town. The doctor told Jabir that an ambulance will be at his house within ten minutes. Jabir called back and told the security guard that an ambulance was underway which will take Hera to hospital.
Javed received the missed call and sprang to life. He put on the white coat, took the stethoscope and rushed to the ambulance parked within spitting distance from his room. The daily labourer who was being hired for the last three days without doing any work was fast asleep inside the ambulance. Javed woke him, asked him to sit on the passenger seat and himself took the wheels. Within five minutes of the missed call the ambulance reached Jabir’s house. The guards opened the gate without any hesitation. Giving full respect to the doctor, Javed was escorted to the place where Hera was lying motionless. Just behind Javed, the labourer pushed the stretcher. Hera was put on the stretcher and the same was put inside the ambulance. It took just a couple of minutes for Javed to complete the task of taking out Hera from Jabir’s house. The ambulance was on its way within a couple of minutes.
While the ambulance with Hera inside had made the first turn towards the next street, it passed another ambulance which was racing towards the street leading to Jabir’s house. The second ambulance reached the gate and was halted by the guards. Two doctors alighted from the ambulance and told the guards that they have been sent to take Mrs Jabir to the hospital but the guard looked aghast. He told the doctors that an ambulance had already taken Mrs Jabir to the hospital.
The shrewd mind of Jabir took only a moment to understand what had happened. He had just finished his speech. He told the organizers that due to an urgent work he needed to go. Within fifteen minutes he reached home. Jabir listened to the maids and the security staff about the arrival of two ambulances. He went into his room, opened the almirah and took out his gun. He gestured to his henchmen in the accompanying gypsy van to follow and his car raced out of the gate.
Javed dumped the ambulance approximately two kilometers from Jabir’s house. With Hera in tow, he walked briskly looking for a rikshaw to go to Jagdishpur, a hamlet on the outskirts of the town, where his grandparents had a house. After a few denials, Javed finally got a rikshaw. He realized this was the first time he was sitting with Hera. The next part of the plan was to escape recognition from Jabir’s henchmen, who as Javed understood, would be in hot pursuit.
While his cavalcade reached city center, Jabir was busy on his phone giving instructions. Within the next ten minutes almost half the city was searching for a young couple who may be travelling in an ambulance. Barely ten minutes later Jabir received a call informing that an abandoned ambulance had been found on a road which goes to Jagdishpur. Jabir’s car followed the directions.
Jabir checked the ambulance which had no occupants. He knew Hera and his accomplice would have taken some conveyance from this place. His henchmen started interviewing the passerby and the waiting rikshaw. Finally, somebody told that a young couple was seeking a rikshaw to Jagdishpur. They seemed to be in hurry.
Jabir’s car raced forward with the trailing gypsy van on the road to Jagdishpur. Every rikshaw going to Jagdishpur was checked for its occupants. Javed’s rikshaw had reached its destination a few minutes earlier. He along with Hera alighted from the rikshaw. Javed realized a lot had changed from the time he last visited this place almost a decade back. He needed to get directions to go to his grandparent house. He saw a tea stall and decided to talk to the people there. Jabir’s car reached the Jagdishpur rikshaw stand a few moments later. From behind the tinted glass, Jabir scanned the motley group of people in the open space. His eyes caught the sight of Hera standing alongside a rikshaw. Jabir leapt out of his car, as he advanced towards Hera hurling choiciest expletives, Hera tried to run towards Javed. In that moment, Jabir fired from his gun. Hera had taken only a few strides when the bullet pierced her chest. She fell down.
The sudden turn of events and the gunshot created a commotion in the area. Javed rushed towards Hera. Jabir returned to his car and ordered the driver to return back.
The daylight murder was the talk of the town and the headline in following day newspaper. Amidst public pressure, the police registered an FIR but did not arrest Jabir.
Javed vowed to avenge Hera’s murder. Today precisely six years later he was standing in the corner of the sessions court waiting for the Judge to pronounce his judgement in the Hera murder case. The entry of the judge made everybody stand. The judge read the order. Jabir was found guilty of charges under Section 302 of the IPC. The police moved in to arrest Jabir.
With tears in his eyes and a rose in his hand, Javed went to the graveyard and stood beside the grave of Hera. He remembered the girl to whom he could never say ‘I want to marry you’.