by Anmol Batra
Swati starts recalling her life journey; the memories of her parents, her work life and now her journey with Arjun. Being with him gives her a sense of contentment. Is this her effort towards a noble cause or is she falling for him? Her thoughts keep her awake, tossing and turning in bed.
24th December 2012 5:00 AM | Swati’s Residence, New Delhi
Swati wakes up in bed only to see the kitchen light switched on in the morning. She quickly stands up and steps outside her bedroom. From the hall at kitchen porch, she can smell tea.
Arjun questions her on hearing her footsteps; “Would you like some tea?” As he drains it through a metal sieve.
Swati recalls last night and is happy to see Arjun calm and composed. In a relieved voice she says, “Yeah, put mine in that tall glass and don’t put any sugar in it. I’ll add it myself.” She points her finger towards an overhead cabinet.
Arjun takes his place at a chair at the dining table. Though sad within, he remains focussed. “Even if we know when and where Billal met with an accident, we still won’t be able to conclude anything beyond it,” he initiates.
“I know! If we are not able to find anything at the accident location, we may need to evaluate things again. So, look around carefully and observe,” suggests Swati.
“Time to leave then!” Arjun says hastily. He gulps down the remaining tea and returns to the bedroom.
12th December 2012 11:30 AM | Aurbindo Marg, New Delhi
The outer ring road flyover built above the Aurbindo Marg is a busy dual carriageway. Traffic continues to move smoothly. Hawkers and beggars are closely monitoring the traffic signals. The hawkers are looking for an opportunity to sell Santa Caps, sliced coconut and Angry Birds balloons to people. Meanwhile, the beggars are looking for an opportunity to tap on the windows of stopped cars. The sun shines brightly in the Sky and Arjun floats a little above the traffic in search of Billal. He carefully looks at every bearded man around. Ten Minutes pass by.
The traffic lights turn red and a traffic police officer in a white shirt and blue pants runs to the centre underneath the flyover. As this happens, Arjun finds a fair guy with a beard and a black Kurta.
“Yes, that’s Billal,” Arjun concludes and flies towards him.
As Billal tries to cross the road, he is stopped by a loud voice from a distance. “Billal!”
Arjun curiously looks around. Across the footpath a man with a beard but no moustache smiling at Billal and beckons him.
Billal smiles, waves his hands and walks across to the bearded guy.
Arjun realizes that this is the same guy who had pricked Ankita with a needle on the day of her kidnapping.
“Welcome to India. Did you have a comfortable journey?” The bearded guy asks Billal.
“Not great. The army’s border patrol is getting more vigilant day by day. It took us six hours to sneak in,” complains Billal.
“I know, but don’t worry; we won’t need to cross over in the near future. Are you carrying the goods with you? Any obstacles?” The bearded guy questions in a concerned voice.
“Yes, I am. I went through three security checks. No one will be able to guess where it is,” replies Billal.
The bearded guy smiles and pats on Billal shoulder. In a much happier voice, he says “Good! Head straight towards IIT Delhi campus. Hafiz is waiting for you.”
The noise of the traffic continues to increase and the bearded guy disappears into the crowd. Meanwhile Arjun stays close to Billal.
A minute passes by.
On the Aurbindo Marg under the flyover, the traffic has been temporarily stopped by the Police. All drivers have brought their vehicles to a halt with some turning off their engines. The stopped cars start attracting hookers. In the wake of all this, a young teenager driving an Audi gets restless and honks at the traffic police. The cop returns an irate look and raises his hand, signing him to wait. But the impatient teenager slams his foot on the accelerator and drives straight for the cop. He jumps to one side, blowing his whistle loudly and signalling to the teenager to stop the car.
As the cop runs behind the car, the teenager puts his foot to the floor. The car accelerates with a roaring sound and the teenager looks in his rear view mirror with a grin on his face, completely missing Billal’s presence on the road.
Meanwhile, Billal continues to cross the road while talking on his cell-phone.
THAK!! With a banging sound, Billal is thrown into the air. His body rolls over the car’s bonnet and his head bangs against the pavement. With the impact, Billal’s phone gets thrown into the air and it lands in the grass in the middle of the road.
The teenager brakes for a second. Stunned, he gasps and slams his foot on the accelerator once more, the engine roars as he makes his escape.
A crowd gathers around Billal who is lying in the road, drowning in a pool of his own blood. A middle-aged lady in her early 50s draws close to Billal and snaps out her phone. “Hello! Aditya Hospital...”
Arjun looks around for Billal’s belongings - A phone lying on the grass, a bunch of keys lying in the road.
A minute pass by and more people gather around him. Two Men pick up Billal by his arms and drag him to the side of the road. A car driver stops and brings out a first-aid kit. He starts clearing blood from Billal’s head.
Amidst the chaos, a dusky-looking, short guy in untidy clothes, who looks like a labourer walks over to the grassy patch in between the two streams of traffic and slips Billal’s phone in his pocket. The chaos continues and he silently steps away from the scene, walking towards the market.
The lean fellow grabs Arjun’s attention with his sneaky walk. Soon, he is walking briskly, and he simultaneously pulls off the rear cover and SIM cards from the phone.
Arjun follows him continuously. After walking a few hundred meters, the labourer stops at a small shop. Besides the counter, sits a teenager, who has long untidy hair and a goatee. The counter has mobile phones arranged under the glass top. The side wall of the shop is adorned with mobile covers and charging cables.
The man smiles at him
“What do you want?” Snaps the teenager.
He asks in a low voice, “Nokia touch screen phone. Interested?”
“Which model?” The teenager asks back.
“See for yourself.” He pulls out the phone from his pocket and places it on the glass counter.
The teenager picks up the phone and starts fiddling with it. “You have the original charger?” He questions
The labourer shakes his head in negation.
“Bill?” He probes further.
“No. Just give me a thousand for this,” mutters the man, trying to look innocent.
“Not a rupee more than 500. This looks like a stolen phone,” grunts the teenager.
“Bump that up to 700! Look at it; it’s almost like new. You would look good carrying this yourself.”
The teenager pulls out a white phone from his torn jeans. With an arrogant grin, he gazes at the labourer and brags; “I have an iPhone.”
The man picks up Billal’s phone and says, “You want to buy this or not?”
The teenager slides the drawer underneath the glass counter and puts two currency notes on the top.
“Let’s not argue any more. Six hundred is good for this phone. Nobody is going to give even five for this,” says the teenager, frowning seriously.
Without uttering another word, the man picks up the money and leaves the phone on the counter. The teenager gently picks up the phone, spits on its screen and rubs it with his sleeves.
Arjun takes a closer look at the shop and surroundings. He reads the sign above the shop: “Bittu Mobile & Accessories.” And with that, he flies back to Swati’s Residence.
24th December 2012 6:00 AM– Swati’s Residence.
Swati is sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat with a straight back. She keeps her right hand pressing against one side of her nose and strongly breathes in. Arjun walks straight up to her and exclaims, “I have found Billal�
�s cellphone!”
Hearing this, Swati opens her eyes and smiles back to Arjun. In a confident voice, she replies: “Let’s get it, Time Guard.”
“Time Guard! Hmm... Nice name. How long have you been thinking about it?” Questions Arjun.
Swati closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. A second later, she replies, “Just came to my mind a minute ago.”
24th December 2012 12:00 PM | Bittu Mobile & Accessories, New Delhi
Arjun and Swati arrive at the teenager’s shop and Arjun gently asks him, “Do you have any Nokia phones?”
“Sir, I have a dozen of them. Any model you have in mind?” Asks Bittu.
“Preferably a touch screen phone,” replies Arjun.
Bittu grabs 3 handsets from the showcase beneath the glass counter and puts them delicately on table. “Pick the one you like. All three of them have barely been used and have no defects.”
Arjun recognizes Billal’s phone. He gently picks it up and asks the teenager, “How much for this?”
“Just 2000. Rarely used. My sister used it. It was very precious to her until I got her a new one,” boasts the teenager.
Arjun looks at Swati and tries to control his laughter. Swati looks back at Arjun’s face and gives him a curious look.
Arjun pulls out the cash and takes away the phone.
“I think I should have asked for more,” Bittu surmising that he sold the phone for less.
◆◆◆
Chapter 14
A Chase Across Borders
24th December 2012 2:00 PM | Green Park Market, New Delhi
Arjun and Swati take a seat in a restaurant and Arjun switches on Billal’s phone. Unsurprisingly, most of his numbers start with “+92”.
He scrolls through the call history and then outlines his observations. “Seems like Billal came to India on or before 9th December and ever since then he has made calls to three numbers. The first number he called was the Indian railway enquiries line. The second one is a local number with the name ‘Zaffar India’ and the third one is ‘Abba’, which starts with +92.”
“Does the phone still have its SIM card in it?” Asks Swati.
“No, it doesn’t. The labourer broke the SIM card on his way to the shop,” replies Arjun
“Ok. I’m not sure if this will help but let’s call Abba and ask him about his address,” Proposes Arjun.
“And why will Billal’s Father tell you his address if he is getting a call from India?” Contradicts Swati.
“I don’t know,” Arjun murmurs with an unconfident look on his face.
“Call him using VoIP,” suggests Swati. “This way, the call Abba gets will start with +1. Tell him you are calling from the US and you need to send Billal some money. Ask him for his address along with the PIN Code and then you are all set to fly to Pakistan.”
Arjun looks at Swati with wide-open eyes and says, “You are a genius.”
“In case Abba questions what it’s for, tell him you met Billal in Pakistan and borrowed some money from him. So, you are paying him back,” continues Swati.
Swati pulls out her phone and makes a Skype call to Abba. The moment it rings, she hands over the phone to Arjun.
“Good morning... I mean... afternoon” stammers Arjun.
“Good afternoon” comes the reply, in a steady voice.
“My name is Alex and I am calling from the US. Can I talk to Billal?”
“This is his father.” “Billal has been gone for days. I don’t know where!”
“Sir, I need to send some money to Billal. Could you please let me know your home address? I’ll send a cheque,” says Arjun in a nervous voice.
“Billal has never been to the US. How come you owe him money?” Asks Abba.
“I came to Pakistan a few months back. I borrowed it from him,” lies Arjun.
“This fool has wasted thousands of my rupees on dubious investments. I’m happy something has come back in a time of crisis. So how much do you owe him?” Questions Billal’s father, in a relieved tone.
Arjun pauses for a few seconds and replies, “Five thousand dollars.”
“American dollars?! I’m not sure where he managed to get you this amount! Are you sure you are talking about Billal Sharif?!”
“No No No, It’s five thousand Rupees,” stammers Arjun.
“Oh, I understand. Just send it to 32, Umair Town, Faisalabad – 38805.”
“Thank you Sir,” says Arjun, and ends the call.
Swati carefully looks at the paper tissue on which Arjun had written the address and asks him,. “Do you know where Faisalabad is?”
“No. We can look on Google Maps for that,” proposes Arjun.
“Right! But you will have one shot to memorize the entire route. Also, what if the signs are written in Urdu? How will you manage when you reach Faisalabad?” Asks Swati, confidently.
“I think I can easily find English Sign boards in Urban Areas but I don’t expect them to be there in villages or small towns.” estimates Arjun.
“And how do you intend to come back if you get lost?”
“Remember, we have a purple beacon installed on the top of your house. So, if I am in the future I can easily find my way back home but if the date is before 22nd December, then I have to follow the highway across the border,” says Arjun.
“I’ll make sure the beacon works correctly all the time. But can you see it during the day?” Asks Swati.
“No, I can’t. From Pakistan, I might need to rise up into space, as high as a satellite orbit. In sunlight, seeing the beacon doesn’t seem possible from that distance,” explains Arjun.
“In that case, perhaps we should schedule your return in the evenings only. Avoid going into the past.”
“It’s 2:30 right now. Let’s target leaving at 4:00 PM. Also, keep in mind that Pakistan is 30 Minutes behind us. Find a clock around Billal’s residence or a clock tower which you can quickly refer to. Keep an hour’s buffer and try to be back by 7:30 PM Pakistani Time,” Swati continues.
24th December 2012 4:00 PM | Swati’s Residence, New Delhi
Arjun lies on the bed and rises up into the Sky. The sun is still bright in the sky and from a distance he can see kids playing on the swings in the park, and a few aged men sitting on benches sharing a laugh. The kids reminded him of Ankita and him playing together as children, when the two of them used to spend hours in the park during winters playing Stapu.
Arjun rises closer to the mobile tower. A pigeon sits on top of a wire with a twig in its beak. Arjun takes a moment to glance at the beacon, a purple bulb blinking like a car indicator. Uncertainty enters his mind.
Ankita is still untraceable and he is still clueless as to where to look for her. Collecting his last strands of hope together, he tightens his fists and starts flying towards India Gate.
Arjun starts flying at multiple times the speed of sound and reaches Amritsar within minutes. Amritsar to Lahore to Faisalabad; it takes a few minutes for him to reach the Faisalabad Clock Tower.
A clock tower with old brick walls, balconies jutting out on all four sides and built over a roundabout in the middle of a market across from the junction. Arjun flies closer to the Faisalabad Clock tower. He is puzzled for a second, but he soon remembers the time difference between India and Pakistan.
24th December 4:30 PM | Umair Town, Faisalabad
Arjun clearly remembers the root to Umair Town but it takes him a while to find Billal’s house in his locality. Two and three-storey houses lane with cars parked on the streets; to his surprise the town looked no different from Delhi or Noida.
After reading signposts and house names, Arjun manages to reach Billal’s Residence, a small two-storey house with an iron gate and a narrow balcony above it.
Arjun glides through the front wall and enters the drawing room. A long hall with damp walls painted in light blue and an old Wooden Sofa set crafted with blue fabric seats. One of the sidewalls has recessed wall shelves with a transparent sliding glass. The cabinet hosts ho
norary metal trophies and photos of kids. The opposite wall has an array of closely aligned picture frames arranged in a mosaic fashion. The drawing room narrows into a small lobby with an open door, covered with a white net curtain.
From the curtain Arjun could see a strongly built middle-aged lady in her mid- 40s wearing a loose Salwar-kameez and a Chunni covering her head.
Arjun glides towards the lobby and can see another door leading to a bedroom. A small room with two single beds and a settee in the middle, placed along the wall. Both the beds are tidy and in good repair. Not to Arjun’s surprise, only one of the beds has a folded quilt and a white pillow.
The opposite end of the room has a cluttered table with an old white desktop monitor placed on it. One of the walls also has a hazy family photo with the lady Arjun saw in the kitchen standing with a bearded man and two kids. It doesn’t take long for Arjun to recognize that the older kid is Billal and the bearded man and the Lady are Billal’s mother and father.
An hour passes by, Arjun continues to roam around the house looking at different things but is unable to spot anything significant. At 5.30, the doorbell rings and a moment later an old man wearing a green woollen cap, with a white beard and a lean body enters the hall.
“rozbākhair Begum” greets the old man, standing in the drawing room.
Billal’s mother steps out of the kitchen with a glass of water placed in a tray and stands near Billal’s father. The old man hands over the steel tiffin to Billal’s Mother and takes the glass of water, gulping it down in one go.
Billal’s Mother curiously looks at the old man and enquires, “Any news of Billal?”
The old man puts the glass back on tray and wipes off his moustache. With a tired face he shakes his head.
“Altaf came two days back. Did you ask him about Billal?” Interrogates Billal’s Mother further.
“I did talk to him today in the morning, I met him at ChakJumera Station. He denied knowing anything about Billal. Also… I don’t have any hope from him.” He says, while taking off his woollen cap.