by Mainak Dhar
‘Sir, the enemy is accounted for. The others have escaped, but they seem to have left their weapons behind. I don’t think they will be a threat without their leader, but in case they come back, we now have two guns and people who are ready to fight.’
I walked back to the society on wobbly knees, paying no attention to the many people watching me as I went to the lift. At my apartment, I didn’t even register when Megha walked in behind me. I collapsed on the sofa. She sat down beside me and buried her head against my shoulder. I could tell she was shaking as well. Neither of us said a word, and before I knew it, I was fast asleep. Sleeping well for the first time since this had all begun.
SIX
I woke up disoriented, flailing my arms. I had been dreaming of a man lying dead at my feet, and of being arrested for murder. I felt a reassuring hand on my shoulder. It was Megha. I sat still for a little while, waiting for my breathing to return to normal, and then gratefully took the glass of water Megha offered.
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten in the morning.’
That made me sit up straight. I couldn’t believe I’d slept that long. What was happening in the society? What had happened to the pilot? Had the gang come back?
I stood up, and then felt my legs give way. I sat back down on the sofa where I had fallen asleep the previous night. Megha looked at me, concern in her eyes.
‘When was the last time you had a decent meal?’
To be honest, I couldn’t remember. Things had been moving so fast that food was the last thing on my mind. Megha went to the kitchen, rummaged through my stuff, and emerged in a few minutes with a plate piled up with nuts, fruits and a few slices of the packaged cake I had picked up from Haiko.
As I dug into it, I began to feel a bit better. Megha waited till I was finished and then she broke the news to me. ‘The pilot died this morning. When you get down there, Dr Guenther has an update for all of us. The pilot spoke to him at length before he passed away.’
I rushed down to see everyone gathered around the meeting room. Guenther was there, and I could see that he had probably had little or no sleep the night before. When he saw me, he smiled weakly and took a sip of tea before he began speaking.
‘His lungs were perforated and he passed, but before he did he told me things. He said that if this was an EMP blast like he suspected, then almost everything with electronics in it is going be fried. He linked up with some policemen but they were ambushed by men with automatic weapons. That’s when he got shot. So in addition to the nuclear blast, there may be terror cells in the city taking control over key areas.’
If the residents had felt any relief at surviving the night’s events, that dissipated as word spread of what the pilot had shared. We were under attack, by an unseen enemy, one which had rendered us helpless and defenceless. Terror was something we saw on TV or online, and even when it intruded close to home, it was something that happened to someone else. And, there was always the feeling that someone else would take care of it. The police would come, or the Army. Even those who had been around during the Mumbai attacks of 2008, painful as they were, knew that at some point the Army would end it. Here we were faced with a situation where we didn’t know if anyone would be around to help or protect us.
General Lamba was standing nearby. I turned to him and said, ‘Sir, what are the chances the Armed forces would be able to cope with this kind of an attack?’
He shook his head sadly. ‘I was in the Ordnance Corps, and that too years ago, so I may not know much about combat units today, but our strategic units were hardened against WMD strikes, as was a lot of our key strategic hardware. But the supply chain would be toast as it relied on trucks, which would have stopped working. Most planes would be out of action, unless they can get ancient propeller-driven planes up and running or replace chips and circuits, which will take time. Communications will be badly disrupted, and add to that the chaos that will follow once people realize the lights are not coming back for some time—as we’ve seen, quite likely the police will panic and melt away. Net result is that any forces that are able to regroup will have to both fight an enemy and maintain law and order.’
I could feel panic welling up inside me. This was far worse than I had thought. I turned to Nitish, hoping he could help. ‘Any chance we can get electronics repaired soon?’ I asked.
‘The article I read made it sound like solar flares would be a huge disruption even in the context of the US, and they are probably much better prepared than we are. I wouldn’t bet on the lights coming back anytime soon.’
People were hovering all around me, panic writ large on their faces. But the one face I was looking at was Megha’s. She had been so brave the previous night, and had more than held her own in a terrifying situation. Now, her eyes were wide with concern and she was holding on to a door as if for support. That was when I realized she was also looking at me, and the panic she showed reflected what she saw on my face.
The previous night many of us had stood up to the gang, and that was because we were feeding off each other’s courage and outrage. Today, unless someone did something, we would feed off each other’s panic. That was when I caught sight of Pandey. He just nodded, stood straight and saluted.
He did not need to say a word. That someone I was looking for was me. I took a deep breath and stood in the middle of the room.
‘Folks, I do not have any answers but I do know this. If we stick together, we can make it through this longer than we will if we panic. We saw that last night. God knows I’m as scared as you are, but I come from an Army family, and the one thing I was taught from childhood is that we don’t surrender. As long as we have a fighting chance, we keep trying. And that’s the best we can do—we can try, and try together, to make it through. Till three days ago, the most important thing in my life was getting a bloody promotion and doing well at a job—neither of which mean anything today. I’m sure the same holds for many of you. But if you think about it, many of you have run large companies, managed big departments in the government and solved huge issues of resources and supplies. I’m sure all of that experience can be useful now. Let’s just put our heads together and think through this.’
I had consciously not mentioned the possibility of terror cells in the city. Chances were that they would be focusing on the central areas and the seats of government and industry such as the port. Being a bit out of the way in the suburbs would keep us safe, for the time being.
As people began to move towards me with their ideas and suggestions, I knew we had turned a corner. I didn’t know how long that would last till the next surprise caught us and threw us into panic, but for the moment, it was as good as it could get.
As was the fact that Megha was beaming at me when I looked at her.
We spent more than three hours brainstorming and it was a chaotic affair, with people throwing any and all ideas into the ring. However, it was a damn sight better than each of us panicking alone in our homes.
The lives we had lived meant that each of us had bothered about little other than our jobs, our families and our immediate circle of friends. In just a few short days, we were all being taught an important lesson: that in the real world, not the one of PowerPoints and spreadsheets, we depended on each other and it would be hard for any of us to survive for long if we struck out on our own. Even sceptics like Suri had come around, and it looked like our whole building and the neighbouring one were in it together.
Kundu was holding forth on the problem of water supplies and how our overhead tanks would soon be empty, and that we needed to find some water sources soon. Everyone was a bit lost for solutions. We had become used to a world where we didn’t really have to solve basic problems, we just had to know whom to call. Now that we had to find answers to such questions ourselves, we were all out of our depth. Then someone spoke up, a lot of hesitation obvious in her voice.
‘There is a lot of water nearby.’
It was Rani, the woman who had come
with us from Haiko. When Mrs Khatri encouraged her to say more, she blurted out, ‘You people are thinking too much. Powai Lake is just a little way away, and it has more water than we will need for a long, long time.’
Many people laughed at the simplicity of her solution. Kundu roared in laughter, holding his ample belly.
‘You are so right, Rani. My god, we were overcomplicating things. We just need to find a way of getting water from there.’
Encouraged by the positive response, Rani continued. ‘Yes, and then we boil it here and we have water for drinking. We did that all the time in my village. You people won’t have your fancy showers or hot water for bathing, but in the village we always used to get water in buckets from the well. We can just do that and we should be okay.’
We were reminded, certainly not for the last time, that a lot of the skills and education the supposedly urban upper classes like us took to be critical were far less important than the basic, grassroots survival skills of people like Rani. People who did not have the luxury of speed dial on their phone to solve all the issues they faced, who did not have a retinue of maids and servants to do their tasks. People who, in the world we lived in just a few days ago, would have been considered beneath us by many of those in the room. Our world was changing, in more ways than one.
We had broken for lunch and I was sitting in a corner, nibbling on some rice, my head spinning with all the problems we would need to deal with. Water supply, food, medicines and care for people who fell sick. And I hadn’t even got as far as what we would do with law and order, children’s education and so on. My head began to hurt as I tried to take it all in—it was one thing to deal with no power for a day or even a week, or even a month, but trying to recreate our lives in an environment where not just power, but all the systems and establishments we took for granted no longer existed, was something my mind could not process. Megha came and sat next to me. At least it was good to have someone to talk to, instead of brooding by myself.
‘A penny for your thoughts.’
I smiled at her. ‘Fat lot of good that will do. Money doesn’t mean much now anyway, does it?’
She smiled back but then turned serious. ‘With all that’s been going on, I never got a chance to thank you.’
I looked at her. If only we had met under different circumstances. If only we had met when I still lived the life I used to, perhaps I would have asked her out. She was attractive, sure, but what I was really drawn to was her spirit. I smiled involuntarily as I thought about how Baba would say that indeed the world had to end for me to find a girl I wanted to be with. With that came the sobering thought that Baba was all alone, dealing with the chaos we were faced with. At least he lived in a society filled with his friends and colleagues, but they were all fairly old.
‘You okay?’
I reached out and held her hand. There was so much on my mind that I didn’t know how to put it all into words. Perhaps it was the same with her, because she didn’t probe further. We sat there till Pandey came up to us. Saluting, he said, ‘Sir, a group from the Glen buildings has come—the society want to join us.’
As I got up, I murmured to nobody in particular, ‘Why does he keep saluting me?’
The ‘group’ Pandey had referred to seemed to consist of every single resident of each of the five towers that made up the Glen society, including a sizeable number of foreigners who lived in the newest of the towers. While they had rebuffed us the previous night, it was clear that a lot of them had witnessed the confrontation and had come to the conclusion that safety, in this case at least, did lie in numbers.
The man who had turned us away the previous day was there, and extended a hand towards Mrs Khatri. ‘I’m Biren Bhagat, the secretary of our society, and we would like to join in with your societies.’
Bhagat had a slightly sheepish expression that indicated that the conciliation was perhaps more a result of the other residents pushing him after the events of the previous night, and he looked visibly shaken up. I greeted him, but he seemed so distracted that he barely nodded at me. All that was fine with me. The last thing on my mind was trading polite niceties with him. As long as they were willing to play ball, we could help secure the immediate neighbourhood for all of us.
General Lamba filled in the newcomers on what we had learned from the pilot and I could see the same mixture of shock and disbelief that had crossed the faces of many of our own residents.
In the meanwhile, Kundu had been working something out on a piece of paper and he called out to all of us.
‘Aadi, we can get water from the lake sure enough. The problem is transport. How much water can we carry back on a cycle, after all? Carrying it by hand will be time consuming and tiring. How I wish we had one single car that still worked.’
That would have been nice indeed, but we had to make do with what we had and Kundu had worked with clinical efficiency, writing out a roster of water duty that he now stuck on the notice board. As I glanced at the list, I realized he had been pretty smart. Each family was to contribute to the effort once a day so that nobody could complain about bearing too much of the load. On the roster were families from the other societies who had joined in as well, including Glen, and each family was to bring back water for the tanks of their own buildings, so that we avoided any squabbling over who had got more water or less.
The first water gathering party was to head out in thirty minutes, and people got ready with buckets, some with two buckets tied together with a rope slung across their shoulders. Pandey was there, carrying the rifle we had recovered from the gang.
‘Sir, I’ll go out and escort the convoy.’
I had not noticed it in the chaos of the night before, but now I could see it: a level of animation I had never noticed in Pandey’s eyes before. As a guard in a housing society, he had always looked bored, but now, perhaps getting a chance to relive being a soldier, to be doing something worthwhile, he was more alive than I had ever seen him. I asked him to take Subin, Prashant and a couple of the guards from our neighbouring society with him, just in case the gang caused trouble.
Trouble, as it were, came not from a gang but from within. As the people were loading up to set out on the journey, I heard a sudden commotion. When I pushed through the crowd, I saw a middle-aged man wearing a dapper polo t-shirt and jeans arguing with a young woman wearing an old, faded sari.
‘Soni, I asked you to go and get water. How can you refuse?’
The woman held her ground. ‘Who are you to order me? Go and get water yourself if you want. Your name is on the list.’
The man exploded in rage. ‘You are our servant. You need to do as I say.’
The woman looked him straight in the eye and then spat at his feet, causing the man to jump back to prevent the spittle from landing on his expensive-looking loafers.
‘Servant? Your money means nothing now, and why should I listen to you? Everyone has to work now. Go and get water for your family and I will help, but why should I alone do all the hard work for all of you?’
The man was stumped for a second and looked around, seeking support. There were several more maids and domestic helpers around and they were gathering behind Soni. This could get ugly unless someone intervened. Then I saw a familiar figure step in between them.
It was Megha.
She introduced herself to the man, who said his name was Ketan Shah.
‘Mr Shah, she does have a point. All of us need to chip in and if she was your employee before, now she is no longer obligated to work for you.’
Shah burst out in indignation. ‘I am the CFO of a multinational. I cannot lug around buckets of water. She lives in my home and has been living off my salary. I see nothing wrong in her doing the domestic chores as she always has.’
Megha’s voice was calm but firm. ‘Sir, try and understand that things are different. What position you once had doesn’t really matter. All of us need to help out and as for staying in your home, let’s ask Soni.’
; She turned to the maid. ‘Soni, I get the fact that you aren’t obligated by salary to work for him or his family anymore, but you are staying in his apartment and taking advantage of the security this society complex gives you. So you do also need to chip in. Is that fair?’
Soni nodded but pointed at Shah saying, ‘I am willing to do my share and more in terms of cooking and cleaning in return for staying in this society. But to expect me to do everything, and for them to do nothing to help—that is not fair.’
Megha turned to Shah. ‘Sir, the only fair solution is that you, your wife and Soni alternate in getting water. Think of it this way—she is staying with you, and is paying her rent by helping get supplies and water. If you want, she can of course leave. It is your home, after all.’
Mrs Shah came up and whispered something into her husband’s ear. He looked at Megha and, seeming a bit deflated, said, ‘Okay, okay. I can go today and she’ll go tomorrow.’
That seemed to satisfy everyone and as she stepped away from the group, I smiled at Megha.
‘That was something. You really helped sort things out there.’
She smiled and winked at me. ‘I’m learning from someone who seems pretty good at it.’
The world ending or not, my heart skipped a beat.
As the first group left to get water, some of us buried the pilot in the park next to our building. This was not the first body I had buried since this began, and I wondered how many more final rites I would have to help with before it was over.
As we got back, sweaty and tired, I saw Mrs Khatri, General Lamba, Bhagat and a few others in what seemed to be an animated conversation. When I went up to them, the General was speaking in a polite but firm voice, ‘Water supply is important for sure, but we need to take care of food and security as well. And we cannot let that be an ad hoc effort.’