Hawamahal Bazaar
It was well past 6 p.m. and Qiara had been walking the streets for more than three hours. Sweat poured down her back and she took a swig of water from the bottle. The slight breeze cooled her brow and she wiped off the beads of perspiration dotting her face with the back of her hand.
Kabir had got a call from Zayed informing him that the third man in the picture along with Khanna and her father was a guy named Harisingh Rathod who ran a string of hospitals in Rajasthan. He had also tracked down Rishi Mathur’s secretary who had revealed that her boss was currently in Jaipur, meeting up with a client, who happened to be none other than the mysterious Rathod.
At Kabir’s insistence, Qiara had called up an extremely agitated Rishi. But once she promised to meet him he’d calmed down. He’d given her directions to Mithapur Haveli, situated forty kilometres north of Jaipur. The call had been a short one but it ended with Rishi’s ominous warning, ‘Come alone.’ He was in for a shock because the person he was about to have a rendezvous with was Kabir.
The plan was to trick Rishi into thinking she was following his instructions. Kabir was pretty confident her cell phone was being tracked by Rishi, and she had given it to him, so he could keep texting Rishi till the time he got to Mithapur Haveli.
Kabir had been most reluctant to let her ‘wander around the streets of Jaipur’ as he had put it. Finally, they had come to an agreement – and he had given her a ride to the Bazaar but not before buying her a cheap mobile phone and a local connection so he could stay in touch with her. She’d promised him she would do nothing more risky than be a regular tourist and soak up the ambience of Jaipur. But being a tourist was no fun when she was on edge and worried about Kabir. She wondered if meeting Rishi was a good idea at all. What if he was walking into a trap?
Kabir had assured her the element of surprise would work in his favour. ‘Rishi has no clue I will show up.’
‘What if…’
He’d cut her protest swiftly. ‘Look how desperate he is to contact you. Don’t you want to know why?’
‘Yes, but how smart is it to walk into the lion’s den?’
Kabir gave her a dark look. ‘Sometimes the only way to do it is by bearding the lion in its den.’
So, that was that. He had set off on what she could only think of as a wild goose chase. But why was she suddenly afraid of the risks? Hadn’t she embarked on one such chase herself in order to locate Reshma? Surely, Kabir, given his professional experience had a better chance of achieving his goal than she did? The difference, she realized, was now she was worried for Kabir. The man who had taken permanent residence in her head space. Her nerves were still tingling from the wild passionate encounter they had had in the bungalow. Colour crept into her cheeks unbidden at the thought of how she had given play to every sexual fantasy she had harboured about him. If it hadn’t been for Zayed’s insistent phone calls – many of which Kabir had ignored – they would still be wrapped in each other’s arms, playing merry hell with all their inhibitions!
Nothing about their relationship had ever been tame. Not then and not now. It was almost as if they drew out the most intense emotions in each other. When she had first met him, it had all been about hate at first sight which had quickly morphed into attraction and love. And finally heartache. Somewhere in that equation, trust had not come into the picture. She felt ashamed she’d been the one with so little trust. In herself. In Kabir. In their fragile first love.
Even now, she was conflicted when it came to her feelings for Kabir. She couldn’t deny they shared a sensational chemistry and she was a heartbeat away from falling in love with him all over again. What future was there for a relationship that had already been snuffed out once, thanks to the interference of her father? Was it fair on her part to reel him in to help her piece together the fractured picture of her past? Why was everything such a mess, she wondered glumly.
Lost in her thoughts, she found herself standing in front of the tattoo shop. Should she make another attempt at coaxing some info out of the shop owner? Chances were he wouldn’t reveal anything more than what he already had. At best, he would shoo her off.
Before she could change her mind, she stepped inside. The man who had rescued her was nowhere to be seen.
A young boy of about eight was sitting in a corner copying an intricate sketch on a pad.
He glanced up. ‘Uncle is inside working with a client. You’ll have to wait.’
She sank into a plastic seat that was the only other chair available. After a long wait, the curtain to the inner room was brushed aside and a heavily tattooed man left the shop. The young boy continued to draw as he yelled out.
‘Chachaji, there is a Madam waiting for you.’
The curtain rustled once more and the shop owner appeared. On seeing her, his smile disappeared.
‘Madam, why have you come? I told you whatever I know. Please go.’
Qiara got up from the seat and eyeballed him.
‘Why did you tell me? Did you think you could make some quick money?’
The man was taken aback at her vehemence.
She wasn’t ready to back off. Not yet.
‘How much do you want?’
Discarding his dismissive tone, he pleaded, ‘Please understand, it’s not about money. If they find out, I’ll be in deep trouble.’
‘Who is this ‘they’ you keep talking of? The cops, goons, who? Don’t you get it? I need to find out why I have the exact same tattoo.’
‘I’m sorry. Please.’
‘Being sorry doesn’t change anything. The damage has been done.’ She glared at him. ‘I will pay you ten thousand rupees. Just take me to the place where you found out about the tattoo. I won’t bother you after that.’
She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and charged on.
‘But if you lead me up the garden path, I will send the cops after you.’
The man was now agitated. His gaze darted around, avoiding her eyes.
She went for the jugular. ‘Did you see the man who came to get me earlier? He is a cop and I promise you, you will be in so much trouble…’
Her words galvanized him into action. Grabbing a pen and a notepad he scribbled something on it and thrust the piece of paper at her.
‘Madam, I don’t want any trouble. Not from cops and not from the gang. Please, I don’t need your money. Just leave me alone.’
She glanced at the words he had written: ‘Garima Nursing Home, Phulera’.
‘Hospital?’ She looked at him.
‘It’s about fifty kilometres from Jaipur. You should go there tonight. You will see for yourself.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You don’t believe me, right? Go and see for yourself what happens. Now please leave.’
Turning away from her, he walked back into the inner room. She noticed the boy looking at her curiously. The sketch on his pad was nearly finished.
Fear stabbed at her heart as she recognized the drawing on the pad. It was her butterfly tattoo.
Kathputli Nagar, Jaipur
He surveyed the rows of shanties stuck to each other on either side of a narrow lane. Finding a needle in a haystack would be easier than looking for one person in this stinking sea of humanity spread before him. Urchins brushed past him, as they engaged in a boisterous game of tag, unmindful of the filth all around. He shot out his hand and fisted a boy’s shirt, bringing him to a halt. Not too pleased at the interruption, the boy threw an annoyed glance at Kabir.
‘Where can I find Bholu Sapera?’ Kabir asked in Hindi.
‘You have come to the wrong basti, Saheb. The snake charmers live on the other side of the field.’
Before he could ask for directions, the boy was running down the narrow lane, stepping over the open drain and avoiding the litter strewn around like a fleet-footed cat.
Kabir turned towards the field that stretched out in front of him. Feral pigs and ragpickers were poking around in the garbage. The stench was overpowering. In the distance, he spotted more blue plastic-sheet-covered shanties and wondered how long it would take him to reach the place. The shortest route would be to cut across the dumpyard even though it would be one heck of a nasty walk. He wished he’d brought his motorbike, but then he would have had to park it somewhere while he looked for Bholu in the slum. He had no doubt that if he so much as left his bike unattended for a couple of minutes, he would never ever see it again.
Steeling himself he briskly walked down the field, immediately drawing the attention of a few ragpickers who tittered among themselves.
Calling out to one of them, he asked, ‘Do you know where Bholu Sapera lives?’
They simply grimaced and went back to poking into the garbage, picking up odd items and thrusting them into the half-filled plastic bags they carried on their shoulders.
For a moment Kabir thought he should give up this crazy idea of seeking out a man he had last seen when he was seventeen years old. A man who visited him in his nightmares every once in a while. And yet, Bholu was the one who had ensured his life did not turn into a living hell. Bholu was the only bridge to a life he foolishly believed he’d left behind. For ever. Who would have thought he’d want to revisit Sonagarh!
Qiara was right: he was a coward. He had locked away the old memories rather than deal with the hurt they caused. On the other hand, she was so much braver than him – willing to face the truth even when her entire life was unravelling around her; when every truth as she knew it seemed to be built on a foundation of lies. He wanted to be there for her, shelter her from life’s vicissitudes. But how could he when he was unable to give up his secrets?
While walking into ‘the lion’s den’ on his own would be the macho thing to do, he wasn’t a fool to go rushing in without any preparation. That’s exactly why he needed Bholu. If there was one person who knew what Suraj Pratap Singh, the man responsible for his flight from Sonagarh thirteen years ago, was up to it would be him. It was imperative that he find Bholu, if he had to sort out the unholy nexus between Suraj, Rathod and Mehender Singh.
However, finding him in this stinking hell hole would be no easy feat. Much like the snakes he charmed, Bholu knew exactly how to disappear and avoid detection. With his help, Kabir and his mother had made their way to Delhi from Sonagarh. He had never seen his friend again after that fateful night and all he knew was he had taken refuge in this ghastly slum.
It was going to be a bit like a throw of the dice. Kabir was not one to mock the all-powerful force of destiny. If she happened to be on his side, he might be able to track down his friend. The row of shanties loomed ahead and he broke into a run; he just didn’t have time to wait around for destiny to show her hand. He planned to meet her head on.
It was time for a showdown with his wily half-brother, Suraj Pratap Singh.