The Rule Breakers

by Preeti Shenoy

  ‘But Sanju—he could have left after getting the question paper,’ Kanika said.

  Vijay looked at her. Was she daft? He couldn’t believe what she was saying.

  ‘Why did I explain to you so much in detail? Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Eh. . . ?’ Kanika was puzzled.

  ‘Your boy—did he come back?’

  ‘No—of course, not. That’s why we are asking you.’

  ‘So, understand what might have taken place. I can only tell you this much. I have to leave now. Thank you for the juice,’ he said, and he stood up, pushing back the chair.

  Kanika, Veda, Ron and Kajol stared at him wordlessly as he limped his way out of the coffee shop.

  ‘Didi, did you understand what he was trying to say? I am so frightened, didi. Anything, just anything could have happened. That’s what he was saying, didi,’ Kajol gripped Kanika’s hand with worry writ large in her eyes.

  ‘Shhh . . . Kajol. I suggest you go home now. We will go to this Maldhakka yard and find out,’ Kanika tried to calm her. But Kajol didn’t want to stay back.

  ‘Please didi, let me go with you. I am so worried,’ she pleaded.

  But Kanika wouldn’t hear of it.

  ‘No, Kajol. You must go back home. Veda didi, Ron bhaiya and I will take care of this. You have to trust us,’ Kanika was firm.

  ‘Also, four of us won’t fit into an auto. We will have to hire a car then. Kajol, please remember, we have very little time left for the exams. You should go and revise. And rest your arm,’ Veda advised her.

  Reluctantly, Kajol agreed.

  They all walked towards the Sitawadi arch. Kajol walked home from there, while Kanika hailed an auto.

  ‘You know, I am terrified to go there and look. I don’t know what is worse—finding him there or not finding him there,’ said Veda, over the din of the auto. She was squished between Kanika and Ron, and she brushed her hair away from her face. Kanika’s hair was fluttering in the wind too.

  ‘Yes, but since that’s the only lead we have, we have no choice but to follow it,’ Ron raised his voice to be heard.

  It was a bumpy forty-minute ride, and by the time they reached the Maldhakka yard, Veda’s throat was parched. She looked around to see if there were any shops nearby. There was nothing. It was an isolated place, just as Vijay had described.

  Kanika took one look at the place, and she turned to the auto-driver.

  ‘Bhaiya—we need to go back too. Will you wait?’ she asked him.

  ‘How long would you need me to wait?’ he asked.

  ‘We have come to find out something. About an hour? Will you wait?’ she asked.

  ‘Extra charges,’ he said.

  ‘No problem,’ Ron quickly agreed. It was evident to them that there was no way they would be able to get an auto back from this lonely place.

  A barren ground, only sparsely populated with some shrubs, which were more brown than green, stretched endlessly in front of them. To their right was a railway platform, which was more or less deserted. A lone bench stood on the platform, and they could make out a human figure asleep on it. There were a few wagons parked on one of the tracks. There was not a single person anywhere near them. On a second track stood another train of closed wagons. At the end of the railway tracks, stood large railway sheds.

  ‘Do you think that could be the shed Vijay talked about?’ asked Ron, pointing to them.

  ‘No way—those belong to the railway; let’s walk ahead,’ said Kanika.

  ‘I wish I had brought some water. I am so thirsty,’ Veda said.

  ‘Here,’ said Kanika, as she reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of water.

  ‘Wow! You carry water too! Thanks,’ said Veda, as she gratefully took a few sips.

  They continued to walk on the barren land, which sloped upwards. When they reached the top of the slope, they could see what lay ahead, and there it stood—the building that Vijay had described. It was like a large shed, just as he had said.

  ‘Let’s go. I think that’s the one,’ said Veda, as soon as she saw it.

  They walked a few metres and reached the building. The large, rusted, faded red iron doors in the front were padlocked. The lock was bigger than Kanika’s palms.

  She rattled it.

  ‘Nobody here,’ she said, as she walked around the godown.

  ‘I don’t even know what I expected to find, but certainly not a locked building,’ confessed Ron.

  ‘What do we do now?’ Veda asked, and they looked at each other.

  Ron pushed at the doors of the godown, trying hard to part the iron doors a teeny-weeny bit, to see if he could peep inside. But the doors were tightly shut, and he could not get them to budge even a little bit.

  They walked around the godown, trying to see if they could look inside. But there were no windows at all, just like Vijay had said.

  When they got to the back of the godown, they noticed a small structure, like a little kennel, about four feet high, right at the centre. An asbestos sheet served as a ‘roof’ for this tiny structure. Damp gunny sacks hung from the ‘roof’, forming curtains, closing off the inside of the structure from view. Veda spotted a pair of feet protruding out from under the gunny sacks.

  ‘Hey—look, there is somebody there,’ she said, clutching Kanika’s arm.

  ‘Oh yes, you are right!’ said Kanika.

  Kanika, Veda and Ron edged forward cautiously. As they approached the structure, they saw a bamboo stick lying by it.

  Ron lifted the gunny sacks. An old man in the uniform of a security guard was sleeping with his back turned towards them.

  Kanika took the bamboo stick and hit the ground next to his ear hard, making a noise, so that it would wake him.

  ‘Bhaiya, BHAIYA!’ she said loudly, near his ear.

  If they weren’t so tense, they would have found the way he jumped up amusing. But instead, all three looked at him in sheer relief.

  The old man rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was dreaming.

  Then it seemed like he had remembered something. He stood up immediately.

  ‘Eh? Sorry, sahib. Aaankh lag gayi. Good morning, sir,’ he said, when he saw Ron.

  Then he looked at Veda and Kanika. ‘Good morning, madam,’ he said. The old man wasn’t sure who these people were, but he didn’t want to be berated for dozing off on the job.

  ‘Bhaiya, we came to ask about a young boy. He was here yesterday?’ Kanika said.

  The old man’s expression changed. He instantly looked alert.

  ‘Please, bhaiya, helps us. That boy did not come home yesterday, and his mother is very worried. She sent us here to look. He had told her he was coming here,’ Veda lied, improvising on the spot.

  ‘Ummm. . .’ The old man hesitated, weighing his options, unsure as to who these people were and what they wanted. All he wanted was to keep his job. He had created a natural air-conditioning system with the damp gunny sacks, and hardly any people came here. It was a cushy job and he did not want to risk losing it. He had to ensure that whoever these people were, they did not report back to Ganga sahib, who employed him, that they had caught him snoozing on the job.

  ‘Bhaiya—the boy is missing. If you have any information, please tell us. Else we will have to make a police report and the police will come to search this place,’ Kanika spoke firmly.

  At the mention of the police, the old man made up his mind. If these people who looked like educated folk brought the police here, Ganga sahib would be furious and would throw him out. If he gave these people the information that they wanted, his job would be safe. It was evident that Ganga sahib did not much care for the young boy these people were enquiring about.

  ‘The young boy was thrashed. And rightfully so. He tried to steal,’ said the old man.

  ‘Steal? Why would he do that? What did he try to steal?’ asked Kanika, shocked.

  ‘You know—the papers,’ said the old man, pointing to the godown.

  He was so casual and matter-of-fact a
bout it, that it sent a chill down Kanika’s spine.

  ‘But, I don’t understand. Why would he do that? He . . . had money!’ said Kanika.

  The old man shrugged. ‘I think he lied to them about the amount of money he had. They chased him with sticks. He took off like a plane—zzzzzzzoooooom—and he ran all the way over there. They told me to catch him as he ran out. I could only make it to the top of the hill. But they pursued him. I stood here and watched as they caught him there,’ said the old man, pointing in the direction of the railway platforms.

  ‘Did . . . did you see them beating him?’ Kanika asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

  ‘You should know who you take pangas with. Foolish boy. He walks into a lion’s den and hopes to get away by offering the lion stale meat? Will the lion spare him?’ he asked.

  Kanika thanked him, thinking hard. Veda and Ron were doing the same. They all reached the same conclusion independently.

  There was only one place that Sanju could be. The railway platforms.

  They hurriedly climbed down the slope and headed for the platforms to search for Sanju.

  Chapter 33

  March 1997

  Railway yard, Pune

  Veda, Ron and Kanika almost broke into a run to reach the deserted platforms of the railway station.

  Ron ran towards the man on the bench whom they had seen from a distance. He wondered if that was Sanju. But when he got closer, he saw that it was a homeless person, probably a beggar. Sanju was nowhere to be seen.

  They looked around carefully, combing every inch of the platform. The sun beat down relentlessly, and sweat trickled down Veda’s forehead. They were frustrated and anxious. Where was Sanju?

  ‘More water?’ asked Kanika, as she took a sip and offered her bottle to Veda.

  ‘No, thanks. I am okay,’ said Veda.

  ‘I will take some,’ said Ron, as he took the bottle and sipped some water.

  ‘God—that old man said that Sanju was thrashed. How could he be so foolish? Whatever was he thinking! And did you see the size of that godown?’ asked Veda.

  ‘Yes. But that does not mean the whole thing is full of papers, but this is probably where they have a photostat machine or a xerox machine, who knows,’ said Kanika.

  ‘Yes. Do you think yelling for Sanju will help so that he knows we are here?’ asked Ron.

  Kanika looked around. Apart from the beggar on the bench, the platforms were deserted. What would they lose in trying?

  ‘I think that’s a good idea. If he is somewhere around, hopefully he will recognise our voices,’ agreed Veda.

  ‘SANJU . . . SAAAAANJUUUUUUUUUUU . . . SANJUUUUU. . .’ they shouted, walking along the length of the platform. Their voices echoed back at them, cutting through the oppressive heat. Not a leaf stirred.

  Ron walked right up to the end of the freight train. Then he looked at the other platform, where the covered wagons lay. He crossed the railway tracks and walked towards them.

  ’SANJUUUUUU . . . SANJU . . . IT’S RON,’ he yelled, feeling a little foolish. This was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Suddenly, a piece of wood landed behind him. The sound made him stop in his tracks, and he turned to look. It had come from one of the covered wagon cars. He rushed towards it and peeped inside. For a few seconds he couldn’t see anything as it was dark inside the wagon car. Then he heard a feeble sound.

  ‘Ron bhaiya!’ It was a hoarse whisper.

  Ron blinked a few times. Was he imagining it? Then his eyes adjusted to the dark, and the silhouette of a young boy came into view.

  It was Sanju. Unable to speak, he had hurled the piece of wood to attract Ron’s attention.

  Ron had found him.

  ‘OH MY GOD! SANJU!’ he exclaimed, as he climbed on to the wagon. Sanju lay huddled in a dark corner, a gaping wound on his forehead. He was shivering. There was a pool of blood beneath his head. One of his eyes was swollen and he could barely open it. A trail of blood from his nostril had caked up. His left cheek had swollen up like a balloon. There were bruises on his arms and shoulders. There were angry red and purplish bruises on his legs too. It seemed as though there was no part of his body that was not hurt.

  Ron stood gaping, his heart pounding in his ears. What should he do? Should he move Sanju? How long had he been lying like this? How much blood had he lost? It took him only a second to decide. He had taken enough health and safety classes in England to know that in such cases, it was best not to move the victim, but to get qualified medical professionals instead.

  ‘Sanju, Sanju, we have found you now. Don’t be scared. We are here now, okay? Just wait, we will go get help,’ said Ron.

  He waited to see if Sanju had understood. Sanju nodded slowly. Ron shot out of the wagon like a bullet.

  ‘KANIKA, VEDA, HURRY . . . I FOUND SANJU,’ he yelled, as he jumped out of the wagon and gestured frantically to them.

  ‘Oh, thank God! Where?’ asked Veda, as she and Kanika hurried towards Ron.

  ‘He is inside,’ said Ron, pointing to the wagon.

  Veda and Kanika climbed into the wagon to look at Sanju. They gasped as they spotted him, their eyes taking a little while to adjust to the darkness.

  ‘Sanju, we are here. Don’t worry, we will take care of you,’ said Veda.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes. Sanju’s face was an unrecognisable mess of blood and dirt. The men who had beaten him up had been merciless. What in the world was Sanju thinking, to have got into this situation?

  ‘He is in pretty bad shape. He is badly beaten up. We need to get medical help immediately. I think one of us should stay here with him while the other two get help,’ said Ron.

  ‘Veda and Ron, you both stay. I will go and get help. We don’t need two people to do that,’ said Kanika.

  She took out her water bottle and handed it to Veda.

  ‘Give him water, I will be as fast as I can,’ she said. She jumped out of the wagon and ran towards where the auto was waiting.

  Veda removed the chunni of the salwar kameez she was wearing and tried to make a pillow for Sanju to rest his head. But he could barely move his neck. He was whimpering in pain.

  ‘Don’t move him, Veda. You might make it worse,’ said Ron.

  So Veda just poured water into the cap of the bottle and held it to Sanju’s lips. His lips were swollen very badly. Veda could only tilt the cap little by little, so tiny droplets of water dribbled down his parched tongue.

  Ron and Veda sat in the wagon, waiting. Veda looked around and saw that this was some kind of a wagon used for transporting machine parts. At least that’s what the stacked-up crates indicated.

  ‘Sanju, why did you do this?’ Veda asked him gently, the sorrow evident on her face.

  Sanju did not reply. He had a glazed look in his eyes. He stared at her with his mouth open. He was breathing through his mouth, as his nose was swollen.

  They heard the siren of an ambulance in about forty minutes. Kanika had managed to get help. The men spilled out of the ambulance along with Kanika and hurried to the wagon with a stretcher.

  ‘Over there. Inside the wagon,’ Kanika directed them.

  Veda peeped out and waved, so that they could locate it easily. Ron sat with Sanju, speaking to him softly, reassuring him, giving him tiny sips of water from the bottle cap.

  The men moved Sanju expertly. The stretcher they had brought was not entirely flat, and when they put Sanju on it, he was in a sitting position, at about a 140-degree angle, with his spine stretched back. They strapped him, and then carried him quickly out of the wagon and into the ambulance, which they had driven onto the platform.

  Kanika rode in the ambulance. Veda and Ron followed them in the auto.

  The hospital was close to the railway station and they were there in less than ten minutes. It was a small hospital, but Veda could see that they were very efficient. Sanju was admitted to the emergency OPD immediately, without too much paperwork.

  Kanika filled up the forms.

&n
bsp; ‘Madam, we need his father or mother or relative to sign. Are you related to him?’ the receptionist asked.

  How can you define a relationship that goes deeper than sharing a common genetic pool? This was a boy Kanika cared for. But medical science and law were professions not interested in emotions like caring and love. They just wanted the biological facts and legal standing of all relationships.

  ‘I shall get his father to come in the evening. He is yet to be informed. This is an emergency,’ said Kanika.

  ‘You will also have to fill up the forms to be submitted at the police station, as this is a medico legal case,’ said the receptionist.

  ‘Oh, alright, I shall do that,’ said Kanika. ‘Er . . . so will there be a police investigation?’ she asked.

  ‘Don’t worry, madam. Mostly these things are just a formality. Unless someone has initiated a complaint, these just go into the police file. If the police investigate each and every case like this, they won’t have time for anything else,’ the receptionist said.

  That reassured Kanika somewhat.

  They waited for the doctor to arrive. He came almost instantly. He took one look at Sanju, turned towards Kanika and asked, ‘Street fight?’

  Kanika did not want to go into a long-winded explanation.

  ‘Yes . . . something like that,’ she said.

  The doctor nodded, his suspicions confirmed.

  He examined Sanju thoroughly. Two junior doctors stood next to him, taking notes, and a nurse stood in the background.

  ‘We have to take him to the ICU immediately. There seem to be many injuries. There are some fractures of the ribs. We will also have to do an MRI scan to rule out internal bleeding inside the skull as there appears to be head trauma; and we have to run all the tests to rule out possibilities of other complications. He needs a blood transfusion as well. It looks like he has lost a lot of blood,’ he said.

  ‘Will . . . will he be okay, doctor?’ Kanika asked.

  ‘At this stage, it is very difficult to give you an assurance. He is badly hurt. We will have to see. He might require surgery. We can’t say anything,’ said the doctor.

  Kanika’s heart sank on hearing this.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ muttered Ron.