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  ‘What’s wrong?’

  I told her about the refugees and how it had felt to turn away people who would struggle to stay alive out in the black of the city. I stopped mid-sentence, realizing that my conscience and how I felt mattered very little versus the real issues of life and death Megha and Dr Guenther were dealing with.

  ‘Forget it, Megha. You’ve got work to do and enough on your mind.’

  I let go of her hand and then, to my shock, she leaned forward and kissed me. When she drew away, she seemed almost embarrassed, and I held her face and kissed her back.

  She smiled and said, ‘Aadi, our world is really screwed up and perhaps the lives we knew are gone forever, but whenever I meet you, I realize that there are still things to look forward to, that there are still people who give a damn. That’s what makes you special.’

  As she got up to leave, I thought about it and then decided to say what was on my mind. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

  ‘Megha, if you want, you can…I mean, I’d like it if you stayed with me. You don’t need to sleep on the floor in the club. No, I don’t mean it that way. I mean, I do have a sofa bed…’

  God, I was making such a hash of things that I was grateful when Megha stopped me.

  ‘Come by at night and pick me up.’

  ‘Sir, I know the bastards who broke into Haiko.’

  We had cremated those who had committed suicide in the evening. It had been a sombre affair, and had brought home to all of us just how fragile our lives were. I didn’t linger there for long, but took another round of the checkpoints and saw that the dogs were already in place. I had been thinking of going to pick up Megha in a while, when Pandey had to put a dampener on my evening plans with his news.

  ‘Who is it?’

  He unloaded with a few choice expletives before getting to the point.

  ‘Bloody politicians never improve. He supposedly created a huge jewellery business from nothing and then became a big-shot MLA or something at one point. He has bodyguards with machine guns with him at all times. One of the guards at his society is an old friend of mine and I passed them this morning. He didn’t say anything, must be shit-scared, but asked me to look at the garbage being dumped behind the back gate. I saw many Haiko plastic bags and empty cartons of packed food.’

  Once again we were back in the meeting room at our society. I had picked Megha up along the way, and if she was disappointed at having this detour on what would otherwise effectively have been our first date, she didn’t show it. The General was more subdued than I had ever seen him. Megha leaned towards me and whispered, ‘One of those who committed suicide was an old friend of his.’

  Pandey had told everyone gathered there about who he thought had looted Haiko. The diamond merchant, a Mr Sinha, lived in one of the newer societies, a premium and exclusive building set apart from all the others. That building also had a number of expats, including several high-ranking executives, and so security was always tight, supplemented by Mr Sinha’s gunmen. They were one of the societies which had rejected our offer of working together.

  Mrs Khatri—who was looking more and more distraught every time I saw her, with the strains of managing things beginning to take their toll—spoke with a sigh, ‘We are not the police. We cannot accuse them without proof and really have no jurisdiction to do anything about it. After all, we ourselves may be breaking into shops before long.’

  What she said was true and that made it even more frustrating. Bhagat swore at the injustice of it all, and the General finally spoke. ‘Malini, you’re right, but if we take this to its logical conclusion, every society will be at war with each other over food, water or electricity. We either try and live together in a civilized manner or fall apart like barbarians. What they have done is the act of barbarians.’

  Bhagat sneered. ‘Mr Sinha never came for any of the local events and only once did he show up at the club when the managing committees of all the societies had got together to plan a fest. He acted like we were all beneath him somehow. He and his bloody bodyguards. If one of us goes to him, he’ll be insulted and bloody throw a fit or worse.’

  A few others nodded and shouted their agreement, and I wondered what they were rousing themselves up for. Were we going to storm the building? Could we realistically do anything about it?

  Anu chimed in as well. ‘He’s very old school. If you aren’t someone of what he considers to be an appropriate status, he won’t even talk to you.’

  I stood up and addressed them all. ‘Look, you may have had your problems with Mr Sinha, but he doesn’t know me at all. In fact, I really am a nobody to him. So I have nothing to lose. Let me swing by his society and see if I can get something moving.’

  When I reached the building with tall wrought-iron gates, I noticed that no lights were on; there were just a few candles and lamps lit. I was greeted by a man wearing a khaki safari suit and carrying a sten gun. One of Mr Sinha’s personal bodyguards, I presumed. The two building guards were in the background, watching.

  ‘I need to speak with Mr Sinha.’

  ‘It’s dark and we don’t allow anyone in. What is your business?’

  ‘Tell him I have a business proposition for him. One he will regret passing on.’

  The guard smirked, perhaps amused at my audacity, and went inside. I waited, wondering if I had overplayed my hand, and then took confidence from the fact that I had done this before. Sure, not many of the skills gained sitting in an office were useful now, but convincing people to part with their hard-earned money was. Whether it was convincing a big tycoon to sell his company to a multinational, or bringing two estranged business partners to the table to arrange an equity sale, I had done it before, and I was hoping those same skills and insights would help me now. What I had gathered about Mr Sinha reinforced my gut. While he was not particularly liked for being aloof, the reality was that he had come here as a refugee of the Partition, with no money to his name, he had worked hard and become a billionaire. And, as a politician, he had a reputation for being clean and had actually done things to improve the lot of people in the area.

  After a few minutes the gate creaked open and I saw a man flanked by two armed guards. He was supporting himself on a walking stick and had sharp eyes, but a kind smile. Nothing like the ogre the others had made him out to be. Again, consistent with my experience of first-generation entrepreneurs who had made it big—smart cookies, and often with their hearts in the right place. His eyes told me that it was unlikely he had stolen the food. There was no hesitation or guilt in them. Either he was the best actor I had ever met, or his guards had stolen the food without his knowledge.

  ‘Sir, I…’

  He stopped me cold.

  ‘You are the young man who fought the gang, I suppose?’

  I didn’t know how he had guessed that, so I waited for him to finish.

  ‘When I heard a young man was here promising an opportunity I couldn’t refuse, I thought it must be the same person. Tell me, how can I help you?’

  ‘Sir, let me get to the point. Your guards, whether at your bidding or not, have looted Haiko of food that should be shared with all societies around here.’

  His widening eyes told me that he didn’t know the food had been stolen. He glanced sharply at the guards and I saw a look in their eyes I did not like. He saw it too and when he looked at me next and nodded, I knew I had his attention.

  ‘You created a great business and have served honestly in office, neither of which matters now since that world is gone, perhaps never to return in quite the shape we knew it. But the question is, what legacy will you leave in the world we have now?’

  He gazed back at me and I could see he was thinking. He motioned to one of his guards. ‘Gobind, we are not thieves. Return all the food that was taken.’

  ‘And starve?’ the guard asked. ‘The other security men were smart to leave and strike out on their own. We’re here and we have to make do with what we have.’

  ‘Gobind, I
ordered you. Return the food.’

  The guard took a step towards the old man.

  ‘I don’t take orders from you anymore. We need a secure place to sleep and live and that’s the only reason we’re still here. Your money means nothing now, and your business is gone. Now you’re just an old man and we’re young men with guns.’

  I had to make a decision and fast. The bottom line was that we could not have armed men like this in our midst. Sooner or later, they would turn on the people in their building and then on the others. As Gobind raised his gun at Mr Sinha, I took out my pistol and pointed it at his head, the barrel just an inch from his temple.

  ‘Drop the gun and take a step back.’

  He paused, as his friend considered his options.

  ‘If you don’t do as I say, I will blow your brains out, I promise you.’

  He took a step back and glared at me, but dropped his gun. I told his friend to do likewise and both of them took a step back as I kicked the weapons out of reach.

  ‘Pandeyji.’

  As my mentor at work Dhruv had taught me—be confident in your Plan A, but always have a Plan B. My Plan B came marching out of the darkness—Pandey carrying his rifle and Yash and three college kids from the dojo whom he had got for the mission. They picked up the weapons and then I turned to the two guards.

  ‘We will not tolerate looters in our midst. Leave now. These men will see you out beyond our checkpoints and we’ll spread the word that you are no longer welcome here.’

  They swore at me, but they had no option. When they left, Mr Sinha looked at me, relief in his eyes.

  ‘I was blinded by the power and protection I took for granted. That’s why I didn’t entertain thoughts of joining the others. I thought we could manage till things got back to normal.’

  ‘Sir, we do need you and I have a proposal for you. Join our societies—we can help you get your generator working, and these weapons will help keep all of us secure. Also, nobody in our societies has any real experience of leading a large group of people, outside of offices. General Lamba does, but he is getting on in years. You’ve built a huge business from nothing, you’ve led people in politics and worked in the area. You could really help us.’

  He looked at me, a strange look in his eyes.

  ‘Young man, I will help in any way I can, but you don’t need a new leader. They just need to see who the real leader here is. And that is you.’

  EIGHT

  ‘How is my all-conquering hero?’

  Megha said the words with a big smile when I came home. I had always said and believed that being single gave me freedom, that it left me with the ability to make choices without being weighed down. That day, I realized just how good it could feel to come home to someone.

  I knew Megha’s smile was taking a lot of effort. A patient had died that day, an elderly man who had passed on after a heart attack, and there had been one more suicide. I had dealt with my own share of stresses and worries, and so when we met, smiled, hugged and kissed, it was just that extra special, because in each other, we managed to leave behind, if only for the moment, all the things that were worrying us.

  We prepared dinner together, a modest affair of juice, nuts, bread and some canned beans. It was hardly a grand feast, but both of us were tired and famished, and we ate in silence. When we finished, we put all of the waste into a bag which I would throw in the communal dump the next morning. There were no society employees to take away the garbage, something I had taken for granted all these years. Now, as with so many other things, we had to take responsibility for our own garbage and throw it in an old construction site which Kundu had designated as the communal dump. It was still pretty close to many societies, and I knew sooner or later we would have to think of a more permanent solution.

  ‘We need to get a gas cylinder or a portable stove from somewhere. I’ll make you some hot soup tomorrow.’

  I looked up at Megha’s remark and smiled. So she would be here tomorrow night as well. I held her from behind and nibbled at her ears.

  ‘Still hungry?’

  We walked to the drawing room and were on the sofa, kissing, when she suddenly gasped and sat back, looking out the window. I followed her gaze. The first night, I had thought our city had been painted black. Now that blackness was punctuated by an eerie glow.

  The glow of many reddish-yellow flames burning on the horizon.

  We both went to the balcony and looked out.

  ‘That looks like south Mumbai.’

  Fires were burning out of control over a large area of the city, and we stood there, watching it, realizing that the danger we had known was out there, was not very far from us after all.

  ‘Is it the terrorists?’

  I had no answer to Megha’s whispered question. It could have been terrorists, looters, rioting between different groups, or even just an accidental fire that was now spreading with nobody to rein it in. There was no way we could find out what had happened, but the devastating results were laid out before us. I looked around and saw almost every balcony occupied by people looking at the flames, wondering what was going on in the city we called home. We stood there for a long time, holding each other’s hands and watching the flames. Life had never been as unpredictable and never been so much out of our control.

  As we walked back to the sofa, I looked at Megha, not sure if she was any longer in the mood. She looked back at me and smiled. ‘When everything around us is going up in flames and when our world could end at any point, we should at least enjoy the moments we have together.’

  I led her to my bedroom and drew the curtains. We could not stop the mayhem that was engulfing our world, but for just a few hours, we could shut it out.

  When I woke up, I felt Megha’s head on my chest. She was still fast asleep, and I lay still, feeling her breath on my chest, feeling her warmth against me, feeling her body rise and fall gently as she breathed. It had been a long time, perhaps for the first time since college, that I had felt myself being drawn this strongly towards someone. In college, it had been a case of adolescent hormones, but this was something much stronger. Was it just our circumstances that had made us seek comfort in each other’s arms? Would our relationship sustain if things got back to normal?

  I put those thoughts out of my mind. What might have been and what might be in the future did not matter. The only thing that mattered was the here and now. The beautiful woman with me, and the few moments of joy we could give each other in the black world we lived in now. If the last few days had taught me something, it was the futility of planning. In my office, we had made such a ritual out of talking about long-term career objectives, of making grand plans of the promotions we’d have, of the money we’d earn, of the designations we’d have. Now, we lived in a world where daily survival was the ultimate, and only, prize—those promotions, bonuses and other trinkets of upward mobility counted for nothing.

  I felt Megha stir and she looked up at me.

  ‘Good morning.’

  When she said the words, lying next to me, it was easy to believe that it would indeed be a good morning. That was till we heard a loud thud and then people screaming.

  Dr Guenther had the body carried inside as fast as he could and a crew cleaned up the area, but a body does make a bit of a mess when it falls ten storeys. Much more than they would have you believe in the movies. A young boy, who had been undergoing medication for depression, had jumped from his balcony after telling his parents that he had nothing to look forward to. If a seventeen-year-old could come to that conclusion, I wondered what all the older folk were thinking.

  ‘Aadi, people are starting to unravel slowly,’ Guenther said. ‘The initial shock gave way to some constructive action when we were faced with the gang, and then the immediate need of getting food and water, but when people have time to sit down and consider where we are and where we are heading, it is easy to lose hope.’

  What the doctor left unsaid was the damage that each suicide did to
everyone left behind. The meeting that morning was a depressing one. General Lamba was in a corner, looking pale and gaunt. The stresses of the last few days and the loss of his friend were clearly beginning to tell on him. Everyone else was silent and looking downcast. I had thought I’d tell them about the weapons we’d got from Mr Sinha’s guards—there hadn’t been time the evening before. Now, with two sten guns and three pistols, our armoury was substantially increased. Each checkpoint could have one person armed with a firearm. Pandey would already have started his basic weapons-handling lessons, having selected a crew of three young men who had been in the NCC to handle the pistols and Akif and Ismail, summoning up their half-forgotten military training, would be handling the sten guns. It was a step-change in our ability to defend ourselves, but I doubted if any of that would lift the mood in the room.

  I heard a tapping noise and looked up to see Mr Sinha walk into the room. Everyone had heard about his society agreeing to join us, but nobody had expected him to come in person. As one, everyone looked at him.

  ‘Good morning, everyone.’

  I could see Mrs Khatri start to say something, but she stopped mid-sentence, perhaps too shocked at his sudden appearance. Mr Sinha sat down on an empty chair and looked around, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. ‘I know you all think I’m very reserved and don’t mix with people, and to be honest, I don’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because I spend eighteen hours a day working.’

  A few people looked away as he continued, ‘My family had a huge construction business in Lahore and then overnight we lost it all during the Partition and became penniless refugees. We had to start all over again and I built what I did, what became the all-consuming legacy of mine. And then, overnight, all of it disappeared again, in the blackness that overtook our world.’

  He had everyone’s attention now.

  ‘I dealt with it the wrong way, by hunkering down, by being selfish, and then I was reminded of how to react to such situations, how my own family came back from nothing. By learning to trust and help each other, through the kindness of strangers, by opening our doors to those we do not know. That is what I want to offer now. I am an old man, alone, my Saroj passed away years ago and my children are in the US, but if I can help, I will. That lesson is something a certain young man taught me so well last night.’