by Amit Lodha
‘Are you all right? You need to see a doctor immediately.’
‘Sir, I am all right.’
‘Tell me, what exactly happened?’ asked Tanu.
There was no need for her to ask who did it. Vijay.
‘Sahib had almost caught hold of one of the assailants when he started limping. We thought he had twisted his ankle,’ said one of the guards who had followed me.
‘We tried to catch the criminals, but they had a head start and vanished in the dark,’ said another constable.
Tanu immediately understood. It must have been an attack of ankylosing spondylitis. She looked at me angrily, ‘What was the need to show such bravado? What if the assailant had fired at you?’ I tried to hold her, but she pulled her hand away.
We took Ajit to a doctor in Sadar Hospital. ‘Sir, this guy is very lucky. Had the injuries been serious, or had he lost a lot of blood, we would not have been able to do much.’
The doctor was telling the hard truth.
I looked at Tanu’s face. Tears had dried on her cheeks.
‘Chun, do something please. Promise me that no harm will come to our children. Ever.’
I held her hands. ‘Yes, I promise you.’
The next day, I got a series of calls from my seniors and well-wishers. They were all concerned about my safety.
That morning, there had been a report of the Special Branch lying on my table. It mentioned the previous night’s attack and advised me to be cautious about my family. I smiled wryly when I read it. So much for the ‘warning’. This often happens with the field units of the Special Branch. Field units are often poorly equipped and understaffed. More often than not, the poor unit in-charge, a junior officer, prepares a report after an incident takes place, that too, after taking inputs from the district police. Ironically, this is the exact opposite of the very purpose for which the Special Branch exists––to provide intelligence in advance to the district police.
I put the report aside. I was hopeful that I would not get any more reports on any threat perception. But things were not going to cool down any time soon.
44
An Attack on the MLA
26 August 2012
Krishna was a busy man. He had been attending back-to-back functions and delivering speeches all over the district. He was returning from a ‘Brahmbhoj’, a luncheon in memory of a villager who had died a few days ago. In the evening, he had to attend a wedding. But he was not complaining. He had come a long way from being known as just Krishna, the owner of an arms shop in Shekhpura. He smiled at this change of fortune.
His car was about to enter Murarpur, his native village. He was expecting a grand reception at the wedding. After all, he was the local MLA. As he was thinking about it all, his driver drove smoothly, making good time. Just then, in the blink of an eye, he felt a powerful blast shake the frame of the car as it turned over twice. The next moment he felt as if his eardrums had ruptured.
A dazed Krishna somehow managed to get out of his vehicle. His driver and bodyguards were badly injured. He looked at his vehicle and the crater under it. The front of his car had been blown to smithereens. He looked around fearfully for any attackers hiding nearby. Luckily, a few villagers came rushing to his aid.
‘MLA Sahib, aap theek toh hain? Are you all right, Krishna Bhaiyya?’ the villagers asked.
The assailants had triggered the device when the car was a few metres away from the bomb. The attackers had misjudged the position of the car due to poor visibility in the fog. Krishna thanked the gods. He knew it was Vijay. Nobody else could be so daring. Even after six years in jail, Vijay was not finished.
Later, as he was recuperating in the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS) in Delhi, the Shekhpura police apprised Krishna of the progress in the investigation. The conspiracy to eliminate Krishna had indeed been hatched by Vijay Samrat and his accomplices in jail.
Krishna was not surprised. Apart from Naxalites, only Vijay Samrat had the capability to plant a landmine. The planning had been meticulous. Even a ‘rehearsal’ of the explosion had been carried out a few days ago. A battery recovered from the blast site led the police to the perpetrators of the crime. A similar device and battery had been used in the fields of Thalpos village in Nawada. Chhotu Samrat, who was out on bail, was the brains behind the plan.
Krishna had to take a decision. He remembered the murder of ex-MP Kesho Singh. He knew he would not be so lucky each time. Krishna knew that Vijay would come after him again.
Once he was back in Patna, he called Raju immediately. He knew it was late in the night, but it did not matter.
Raju was in his veranda in half an hour.
‘Raju, let me be very clear. We know that Vijay was behind the attack on me. He attacked SP Lodha Sahib also some time ago. Vijay has started this war against us, and we will end it.’
‘Krishna Bhai, what do you want?’ asked Raju.
Krishna stared hard at him.
‘What do you think?’
They talked till the wee hours of the morning. Both of them discussed each and every minute detail of their plan. They were sure that this was going to be the endgame. Vijay had brought it upon himself.
45
‘Woh Hi Laddu Hain’
13 June 2013
‘Kaisan ho, Horlicks (How are you, Horlicks)?’
Vijay was delighted to meet Horlicks after so many days. He embraced Horlicks and showered kisses all over his face.
‘Kya baat hai (Is something wrong)?’ asked Vijay, a little concerned by Horlicks’s lukewarm response.
‘Nahin, bhaiyya, sab theek hai (No, bhaiyya, everything is fine). Just missing my children.’
‘Haan, but don’t worry. Sab theek ho jaayega (Everything will be all right). Don’t you remember the Nawada jailbreak?’
Vijay started laughing loudly. He looked at Horlicks, who was not showing any emotion.
Vijay and Horlicks were meeting after a while. They had been kept apart during the trial, but had been sent back to Nawada Jail for their entire sentence. It was poetic justice indeed.
For Horlicks, it had all started in this jail. He had had such a happy family life at one point, but Vijay had changed everything. He had been a simple man whose only desire was a better future for his children. That dream had to be fulfilled. Even if he was behind bars for the rest of his life.
‘Kya soch raha hai (What are you thinking about)?’ asked Vijay, tapping Horlicks on the shoulder.
‘Kuchch nahin, just thinking of what I have done with my life,’ replied Horlicks glumly.
‘Arre, you should be happy. What were you? Just an ordinary man. Now you are my right-hand man. The entire state of Bihar fears you.’
‘Haan, bhai, you are right. People know me as the killer of innocent children.’
‘Abe, it seems you have got depressed. This sazaa, this life imprisonment, this is all meaningless. We will be free birds again.’
Horlicks smiled faintly. Vijay grinned.
‘Come on, cheer up.’
‘Ji, Vijay Bhaiyya. You are absolutely right. How can I forget? You are the king, the emperor.’
‘Yeh hui na baat (That’s more like it),’ Vijay patted him.
‘Yes, yes. Let us celebrate,’ exclaimed Horlicks.
Horlicks opened his tiffin and took out a few laddus.
‘Khao, bhaiyya, these are your favourite.’
‘Oh ho, mazaa aa gaya (Wow, this is amazing)! How did you get them?’
‘Bhaiyya, aapne hi toh kaha tha (Bhaiyya, you’re the one who told me), everything can be made available in the jail. You just have to pay the price!’
‘Of course, of course!’
‘Enough of the talking now. Let us eat.’
‘Yaar, Horlicks, tune mood achcha kar diya (Horlicks, you’ve really cheered me up).’
‘Then you should take two of them.’
Horlicks offered the laddus to Vijay.
‘They are delicious. Thank you, bhai,’ Vijay sai
d, eating them happily.
‘Then have one more. Ek mere haath se (Let me put one in your mouth).’
‘Kitna khilaayega (How many will you make me eat)?’
Vijay’s mouth was full of laddus. He looked rather funny.
‘Bhai, this is my love for you.’
‘Yes, I know how much you love me, Horlicks.’
Both of them laughed heartily. The other inmates also smiled, but from a distance. They dared not get close to Vijay. Not even now.
After a few minutes, Vijay stopped laughing. He felt dizzy and was having trouble moving his limbs.
All the inmates got up and looked at Vijay. Something was seriously wrong.
Vijay dragged himself towards Horlicks.
‘Kya milaya tha laddu mein (What did you put in the laddus)? You snake! You . . . bastard!’
He lunged forward, somehow managing to grab Horlicks collar, but lost his grip and slowly fell to the ground. He lay motionless for a minute. Then, all of a sudden, he coughed violently. The blood in his sputum soaked his shirt crimson red.
Horlicks hovered over Vijay and looked into his eyes.
‘Woh hi milaya tha joh jailbreak ke time mein milaya tha (The same poison used during the jailbreak). It’s just that the dose was stronger this time.’
Vijay stared at Horlicks, and then went limp.
Epilogue
Krishna is an honourable MLA from Shekhpura now. Raju is the head of Aphani village.
Ranjan has been promoted to the rank of an inspector. His wife is doing much better now. Of course, being able to live with her husband is a major factor in her recovery.
Kumar Sir is the ADG of the Bihar Police.
Ajit Singh, my bodyguard, has been promoted to the rank of an ASI of police. He cannot be my bodyguard any longer, but his loyalty remains unflinching.
I just let go of Manish. Kumar Sir told me to forgive and forget him.
Shanti Devi is still baffled. She lost both the men in her life and she does not know how. She got married soon after. Maybe she will be third time lucky!
Netaji surrendered before the court in the jailbreak incident.
Aishwarya is growing into a beautiful girl. Her mother, Tanu, is worried that I will pamper her badly.
Horlicks is serving his time in Nawada Jail.
Right after the unsuccessful attack on Krishna, Raju and Krishna went to the Bhagalpur Jail to make a deal with Horlicks––a deal he could not refuse.
‘Horlicks Bhaiyya, ek waqt aap hum kitne achche dost the (Horlicks Bhaiyya, we were bosom friends once),’ said Raju and Krishna with earnestness.
Of course, all of them had worked together in Vijay’s gang. They had bonded over guns and booze during those days. Raju, in particular, had doted on Horlicks’s son, Chhotu.
‘Aap ko toh ab jail rehna hai (You have to spend your entire life behind bars now). Don’t you want to fulfil your dreams for your children?’ said Krishna.
‘Horlicks, I still think Chhotu can become a policeman. Imagine, your Chhotu!’ added Raju.
‘Really? How?’ Horlicks had asked with hope in his eyes.
Raju explained the deal to Horlicks. He agreed instantly.
‘And I think you already know that Vijay had an affair with Shanti Bhabhi,’ added Krishna. Horlicks turned his head away. He did not want them to see his tears.
I went to meet Avi, my son, in his hostel in Netarhat School, the most prestigious school in all of Bihar and Jharkhand. The school has a tradition of producing IAS and IPS officers.
‘Avi, where is your friend Chhotu? Call him.’
‘Papa, please! Don’t call him Chhotu. We are teenagers now,’ retorted Avi.
‘Okay, sorry. I know he is your best friend and all grown up, but I’ve known him from his “Chhotu” days.’
A smart, immaculately dressed young boy walked over and wished me. ‘Morning, uncle, how are you?’
‘I am fine, beta. How are you doing?’
‘Papa, do you know, Shivam stood first in the essay competition!’
‘Excellent, Shivam! What was the topic for the essay?’
‘Uncle, it was “What do you want to be when you grow up”?’
‘Oh, and what did you write?’
‘I want to become an IPS officer.’
I just ruffled Shivam’s hair and looked heavenwards. I am sure the gods will definitely answer Horlicks Samrat’s prayers.
Acknowledgements
When I narrated the idea of a film to my friend, acclaimed director Neeraj Pandey, he instantly suggested I write a book too. I procrastinated as I thought that it was quite an onerous task to pen down my thoughts. But probably I was destined to become an author.
It was Emraan Hashmi who introduced me to India’s best-known crime writer Hussain Zaidi, who, in turn, connected me to Milee Ashwarya, my publisher at Penguin Random House India. Contrary to his screen image, Emraan is suave and very well read. It was our bonding over books and sons that led me to wielding the pen along with the gun.
I have to put on record my appreciation for all the policemen, the unsung heroes, who put duty over everything else and who stood by me during my ‘bad’ times too. Shri Sunil Kumar, IPS, has always been a wonderful mentor. Inspector Ranjan Kumar and Havaldar Shiv Narayan are the epitome of courage and valour. My bodyguard for years and now an ASI, Ajit Kumar has been like my shadow. These are the kind of policemen who instil a tremendous sense of pride in all of us. I am fortunate to have the DG of Border Security Force (BSF), Shri K.K. Sharma, IPS, be so supportive of all my endeavours.
There is one person I have learnt a lot from and look up to and that is the National Film Award winner Akshay Kumar. Special thanks also to the lovely and ever witty Mrs Funnybones, Twinkle Khanna, for writing the foreword.
Of course, I can’t thank God enough for making me marry my amazing wife, Tanu, the light of my life. I thank my children, Aditya and Aishwarya, for patiently listening to my songs every day and tolerating my idiosyncrasies. Aditya has become my friend, confidant and the toughest rival on the tennis court. I was confident of my writing skills only after his critical appraisal.
This book could not have been completed without the assistance of Ravinder Mahur. I also thank Avantika Poddar Dalmia, Verun S. Mehta, my father-in-law, Arun Dugar, and my parents, Dr Narendra Lodha and Asha Lodha, for going through the manuscript umpteen times and making invaluable suggestions. My brother, Namit, has always been a solid support, right from my childhood. I am also very lucky to have wonderful friends like Sameer Gehlaut and others from IIT Delhi, St Xavier’s Jaipur and the civil services.
Thank you so much, Hussain, for your constant support, and Milee, Roshini and Aditi from Penguin for your editorial inputs.
THE BEGINNING
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This collection published 2018
Copyright © Amit Lodha 2018
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Jacket images © Devangana Dash
ISBN 978-0-143-44435-0
This digital edition published in 2018.
e-ISBN: 978-9-353-05167-9
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