Mousebite

by Ganesh Chaudhari

  I tell Ulhas that I am calling it a day. I utilize the drowsy blanket provided by Ulhas’s potion to catch sleep before it wears out. But sleep is fitful. I dream of my grandmother. Seated in a verandah, she is sharing a joke with Mushtaq’s mother as Kumar chases me around my ancestral house at Dharangaon with an axe in his hand. As I move in sleep, even the occasional jab of pain from my shoulder does not break my dream.

  ***

  “Pandurang. Wake up!” I hear a silken female voice.

  “Bhavna?” I rise from the stupor pleasantly surprised.

  “It’s me, Kshipra.” There’s a loud chuckle. Shit. Now I am fully awake. I am still spread out on the bed. Kshipra is seated in the chair next to me. She is dressed in black & white. Stunning as usual. There is no sign of Bhavna. A man in his fifties stands next to her. He has a French cut beard, shining spectacles to go with his chiseled face. He is dressed in a gray colored suite & a red striped tie. He is looking at me with a lot of interest.

  “This is Advocate Shah. I stole some time off his schedule. But it is not too much I am afraid.” Bhavna explains. She has brought up this man to help me get the UIDAI angle. I sit up straight now.

  “Mr.Shah has filed a writ petition in the high court against the UIDAI design & implementation.” Kshipra confirms.

  “Mr.Shah, could you?” She asks. Mr.Shah does not take the other chair in the room. He paces to & fro as he talks.

  “So Pandurang, tell me what you know about the UIDAI or the Aadhar scheme.” He starts.

  “It is a scheme brought about by the central government to assign a unique ID to every Indian citizen via biometrics. It is going to help with proper aid disbursement to actual citizens rather than phonies by means of linking the id to basic services like banking.” I summarize with great effort.

  “That is the official intention. But what about the unstated intentions? ” He takes a theatrical pause. I am hoping that the news of a terrorist attack on the UIDAI servers has been kept away from him. I give up on his questions by shrugging.

  “You are a police officer, right?” He asks me.

  “So what is the standard procedure for getting a person’s finger prints?” His next question comes before I can answer the first. Definitely a top-class lawyer.

  “A divisional magistrate has to issue the orders after we have an FIR for a severe crime & the evidence to back the charges.” I answer.

  “Or?” He cajoles me to think specifics.

  “The person has to give his consent.” I recollect after some time.

  “Yes. The person has to allow it. But with UIDAI, the government has all the finger prints that it may need. Without the people consenting to it. You must have seen strange crimes. Imagine how you can trap anyone in a forensically airtight case with the help of the biometrics.” He explains in simple words.

  “But why would the government do that? And the data is protected by the government.” I counter logically. He smiles either in pity or in derision.

  “That is the sad part Pandurang. The guys collecting this data are not government agencies. They are private organizations. Yes, they do upload the data to government servers realtime but what is to stop them from misusing it? From uploading data of non-Indians? And as far as why the government would do it, you can take your pick.” His counter is chillingly simple again.

  “Not only the biometrics, if a citizen chooses to link his bank account number with his UID, his bank account details are also up for grabs. To top it, god be with you if you submit your active email id too.” This keeps getting better. The UIDAI data has the entire kundali of a man. With his email in play, his entire professional & social network, preferences from shopping to politics could be mined by a person or an agency.

  “And who would want to do these things you may ask. Well, you cops will want this for policing, the intelligence people would want this for spying & the industries would want it for selling things. An ad campaign tailor made for every Indian according to his taste & purchase ability is possible if you have the UIDAI data.” Was this the reason for the US trade delegation being offered the data?

  He continues explaining to me how the UID has ingredients of destroying individual privacy. He tells me how the CIA has invested in a database technology that is the backbone of the UIDAI program. He tries to conjure the scariest possible combination of authoritative governments, corrupt officials & security fanatics murdering basic liberties of any citizen with the UID. What scares me most is the realism of the scenarios described by him. He leaves after his calendar app beeps. I thank him for his time. This has clarified things about the UID.

  Kshipra stays back though.

  “So Bhavna huh?” She asks with a huge mischief in her voice.

  “X, it’s not what you think it is.”

  “Oh Jaggu. Nice try.” She giggles as if she has seen me blush.

  “Anyway, good for you. I have to go. Anirudhha says hi & does not want you to worry about his device. Actually, he has found somebody to invest in that design. It is going to be manufactured on a large scale now.” She passes the message. Where is Nautilus? It should have been here. I have to ask Ulhas about it. Those videos are precious.

  “Thanks X. I know the surveillance must have given you hard time.” I remember the look of horror on her face at the railway station.

  “Anytime Jaggu. And about the anxiety, I actually enjoyed it. Life for a working woman in Mumbai can be very dull. Those tense moments were special. I felt alive!”She smiles again.

  “Don’t get used to it.” I offer my chivalrous advice.

  “The hell I will.” She trashes it right away.

  ***

  In the evening, I decide to take a stroll. I have been moving alright within the hospital. The wound has remained clean so far. So the doctors don’t mind it. But I am a changed man. I take the footpath at the Lilavati junction to keep going South. I am dressed in the night-suitish hospital garb that goes well with the sling holding my left hand. But nobody on the footpath gives me a second look. They carry on at their predetermined, required pace. A workday has ended for most and reaching home at the earliest is far more important than checking who is walking besides you. The faces are tired, exasperated but resolute. For me though, things have not met closure. And it is going to remain that way for some time.

  Nothing has changed about my looming transfer away from this city but I may have shut the door on my only chance to avoid it. I still don’t know what I am going to do about holding forth in this city. Professionally, though I have some solace of having contributed to avoiding a major terrorist event, the episode has put my professionalism in question. Actually, it may well be a question on my competence. So I need to sort that. I have no proof of why I acted the way I did. I asked Ulhas about my backpack. He remembers that I had it on me when I passed out but does not remember seeing it in the hospital with my other things. That backpack may have clarified my actions very easily due to the videos. Now I’m not sure who has it or whether it contains the Nautilus that Anirudhha had given me.

  Achhu’s site has been obliterated of every bit of its data. And there is no way I can get my hands on the videos that Kumar had because of the NIA’s involvement. After listening to the home minister’s monologue about the UIDAI, I can only surmise that the central government’s position on it will be even more rigid. With Advocate Shah’s inputs, I don’t know what to make of the entire UIDAI framework. My boss has resigned on what I think are emotional grounds. I really hope he helps Mushtaq but that also looks next to impossible. Though he gave up on the planned act, he was part of the plan. That could go against him. May his mother find the courage to withstand this. Khan would protect me during the enquiry but I have lost a mentor from the department. Ulhas has heard Pritam telling the office staff that the first thing that will happen after the enquiry starts will be my suspension. In short, the professional front looks screwed.

  Personally, things are looking worse on the house front. With my Mumbai
posting in limbo, it would be a tall ask to maintain my current house. I can’t imagine staying anywhere else at such a short emotional notice. My landlord may not hold on for long. But most importantly, I have not been able to make up my mind about Bhavna. Whatever time that I have spent with her over the past week has been nothing short of magic. She is smart, sensitive & seems to like me. But is it too early to tell her? Will I lose her if I open my heart now? Even if she approves of me, will that change once she knows about the state of my job & my house? She has not been to the hospital today though she called sometime back, assuring to be there for dinner.

  I have walked long in the flow of my thoughts. I can see the “kalas” or the zenith of the Sidhhi Vinayak temple now. What will you do now Pandurang? I ask myself. Do I set my professional things straight? Does the truth behind Achhu’s murder & the attack deserve to be swept under a carpet? Do I find out who killed Pulkit & why? Do I set my house in order? Or do I go after the love of my life?

  I stop as another wave of pedestrians washes past me at its military pace. Why do I have to choose? Why should I compromise on the things that I stand for? Why should I stop striving for goals that can make my life better? Can I not go after everything that is morally right & worthwhile? Is it not what this city which has place for the most modern to the ancient, from the wealthiest to the poorest & for the most righteous to the most twisted, would have me pursue day in & day out till it is done? I have to set things right on the professional front, on the personal side & not give up till it is done.

  I reach for my mobile phone & dial Bhavna. She answers on the second ring.

  “Hello Bhavna.” I try to maintain a balanced, measured tone.

  “Pandurang. Tell me.” She says in a voice that feels as if she is smiling.

  “I love you.” I manage to say over the noise of the footpath. There is silence on the other end of the phone. Is it over?

  “Where are you?” She asks after the pause.

  This is good. There is hope. It could easily have been “What did you say?” or “I am sorry, but I thought we were just friends.” or a terminated call. And I was prepared for those. This is better. I give her my location.

  “Wait right there. I am on my way.” She says.

  “I will be right here.”

  THE END

  About The Author

  The author is a software engineer by education & works in the game development industry. Born and brought up in Maharashtra, he currently lives in Cochin, Kerala.

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