Time Guard: The Awakening (21st Century)

by Anmol Batra

  As Zaffar walks fearlessly out of the main hall, Ranjeet’s younger sister Maya Shekhawat observes him quietly. Scared to death, tears roll down her face and she mourns in silence, holding her dead mother in her arms.

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  Chapter 18

  A Carton That Revealed Everything

  25th December 2012 9:00 PM – Swati’s Residence

  Arjun wakes up in bed and looks around. He recalls Swati going to his place for passports. With a sad face, he steps near the TV, tunes into a music channel and starts stretching himself out. Too much travel as a soul was tearing his body apart. He could feel pain and cramp everywhere and with another fruitless visit, Arjun remains distressed about what is to be done next.

  A few minutes later, Arjun mutes the TV and calls to Swati.

  “Where are you?” Asks Arjun anxiously.

  “On the way, another 20 minutes,” replies Swati.

  Twenty minutes later, Swati steps into the house wearing a long overcoat and carrying shopping bags in one hand.

  She puts her bags on the cabinet and walks to Arjun. In a gentle voice she questions him, “Any update on Ankita?”

  Arjun switches off the TV, looks back at Swati and replies in a sad voice, “Nothing at all.” He yawns and continues, “And I don’t think I found any clues today either.”

  “You only followed Altaf for four hours. How much can you expect?” Argues Swati, trying to motivate Arjun.

  Arjun groans.

  “You can follow him again in a few hours,” Swati suggests.

  “So much power, yet I am stuck with nothing, ” frets Arjun, his voice full of anguish.

  “Relax, I understand your emotions but hold yourself together. Altaf ran away from Billal’s father, he is smuggling cartons which means he is still involved in it. There is no point in losing hope.” While she continues to talk, she pulls out a thin cardboard box with a cake in it.

  Swati steps into the kitchen and returns with a plate and knife in her hand. She puts the cake on it and starts slicing it into angular pieces. “Anyway, you think you didn’t find any clues… well, at least tell me what happened all day?”

  “Altaf boarded the train from Chak-Jumera station. He went a few kilometres away to a place named Sangla Hill where he takes care of logistics. From 1:45 until the evening he stayed in the station yard and then he left for home,” narrates Arjun in a tired voice.

  “And what about the carton he was trying to load so forcefully?” Asks Swati in a curious voice.

  The thought pricked Arjun’s mind like a nail. With a confused face, Arjun replies, “I don’t know. I followed Altaf and it went with the train to Kasur.”

  Suddenly, Arjun is stuck with another detail. He pauses for a moment and then continues, “Altaf messaged someone name Omar Qadir about the carton.”

  “Hmm…” mutters Swati “Guess your trip wasn’t a complete waste then,” she concludes while biting into a slice of cake.

  “I’ll just look for Omar Qadir’s number in Billal’s phone,” Swati Continues as she wipes cream from her upper lip with her fingers. She walks to the bedroom and fetches Billal’s phone. She scrolls through Billal’s phone and pulls out Omar Qadir’s number.

  Swati starts reading, “Here it is... +92 94…”

  “Wait…” Asks Arjun in a curious voice. “What’s the plan?”

  Swati remains silent for a few minutes and then replies, “Well, I have an idea.” Arjun shoots her a curious look.

  “Let’s send Omar Qadir a message from the web,” proposes Swati. ‘Carton returned to Faisalabad due to missing security check – Altaf’.

  “Omar will likely call Altaf back. Be there at his place in Faisalabad and listen to his conversation with Omar. It’s possible that he will talk about Ankita as well,” Swati continues

  Arjun grins at Swati and takes a slice of cake from the plate. He bites into it.

  Swati smiles back and says, “Merry Christmas”.

  25th December 2012 10:00 PM | Swati’s Residence

  Arjun lies down in bed again and Swati takes a seat beside him. In a calm voice, she questions Arjun, “By what time do you expect to reach Altaf’s home?”

  “Around 20 minutes,” replies Arjun thoughtfully.

  “Ok, then I’ll send Omar a message from Skype at 10 PM Pakistan time,” says Swati while looking at her wrist watch. She then looks back at Arjun and warns him, “Also, stay calm and do not slide into the past.”

  Arjun smiles at Swati and replies, “Alright, and don’t sleep in the chair tonight.”

  25th December 2012 9:50 PM | Umair Town, Faisalabad

  Arjun reaches the outside of Altaf’s residence, a small house with a rusted iron gate and white painted walls with green highlights on the edges. Along the Iron Gate was a name plate with Urdu characters in bronze, and the number 76 written underneath it.

  Arjun glides through the gate and enters the front yard with a motorcycle parked in it. Arjun further slides through the walls and finds himself in a bedroom, a small room with an untidy double bed. Alongside the bed is a study table with small cardboard boxes stacked up, covering most of it. The table has a lone corner with Altaf’s cellphone, an ashtray with cigarette butts and an open cigarette packet next to it.

  Smoke rises from the cigarette ashtray which hints to Arjun that someone is in the house. The room has two doors, one of which opens into a lobby. With the sound of the TV coming from the door, Arjun steps out into the room and finds Altaf lying on the sofa.

  With a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in another, Altaf continues to watch the TV, which was showing a cricket match.

  20 minutes later, Altaf’s phone rings.

  He mutes the TV, picks up the phone and greets in a humble voice, “As-Salaam-Alaikum, Omar Sahab”.

  “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam Altaf, all good?” Replies Omar

  “Yes, all good… Yes…” replies Altaf, unknowingly blowing smoke in Arjun’s face. The smoke passes right through him.

  “Where is the carton that you sent this morning?” Asks Omar in a dominating voice.

  Altaf frowns and crushes the remaining cigarette in to the ashtray.

  “It should be with Jamal in Kasur. I confirmed it from him an hour ago,” replies Altaf in a confident voice.

  “What?” Exclaims Omar. “I got a message saying it had been held back by security due to a missing stamp?”

  “Impossible,” denies Altaf. “Who sent it to you?”

  “I don’t know – it looks like an international number but it had your name mentioned underneath,” replies Omar.

  “I have no idea about it. Could you please message me that number? Let me find out who this number belongs to,” replies Altaf.

  “Anyway, I hope the carton is safe?” Asks Omar.

  “Yes, it is. Don’t worry, we’ll get the first packet delivered across the border tonight itself,” assures Altaf

  “Altaf, you have been over-confident. I told you Billal was too weak for this job, but you insisted. And now look where we are. We owe almost three million to Rafiq. If we fail to find and deliver those packets in a week, we’ll all be dead,” rants Omar and then asks, “Anyway, what happened to that doctor who you nabbed from India?”

  “She is not aware of Billal’s dead body. Her colleague has Billal’s papers and that fellow has gone missing since then,” replies Altaf.

  “And what do you intend to do going forward?” asks Omar.

  “I have my men trying to trace her colleague, Akif. We got his hometown address from hospital staff. We’ll nab either him or his family members if required,” answers Altaf.

  “Take good care of that doctor. She can fetch a good price in Saudi Arabia,” instructs Omar.

  “Jamal is taking care of her. Don’t worry, she won’t die eating railway food every day,” reassures Altaf.

  Arjun silently listens to this and his blood starts to boil. Ferocious, he flies up in the sky and starts flying towards the Faisalabad clock tower. H
e looks around the city for a signpost which says “Kasur”, but can’t find it. Drowned in emotions and discouraged, Arjun rises up into the sky and flies back to Swati’s Residence.

  26th December 2012 1:00 AM | Swati’s Residence

  Arjun wakes up in his bed and wakes up Swati, who is asleep in the chair again.

  “I know where Ankita is,” Arjun says with a sad voice.

  Swati rubs her eyes and questions Arjun. “Where?”

  “She is in Kasur, likely in or around the railway Station. Some guy name Jamal is guarding her and even takes care of her meals.”

  “So, Omar did call Altaf?” Asks Swati.

  “Yes he did, and they discussed Ankita as well,” replies Arjun anxiously.

  “I am going to Kasur now,” says Arjun, while fiddling with Google maps on his cellphone, looking for Kasur.

  “Rather than rushing to Kasur straight away, why don’t you trace that carton and follow the train to Kasur? This way you will find Jamal, who will likely get some food for Ankita in the evening,” proposes Swati.

  Arjun nods his head and mutters. “Hmm… I agree”

  24th December 2012 12: 45 PM | Chak-Jumera Station

  Altaf rushes towards the crowd and Abaaz places the carton back on the train. Arjun stays in the container carriage. The train stops at Sangla hill and Arjun can see Altaf getting off the train and entering the station yard.

  Minutes later, the train starts up again. It continues on its path and crosses farms and rivers on its way. Arjun stays in the carriage with the carton, waiting for the train to stop.

  Three hours pass by. The train reaches Kasur station, a small station with a two-storey building. The train stops at its lone platform and passengers step off. Arjun waits in the goods carriage.

  Fifteen minutes later, a middle-aged man in his early 40s opens the shutter of the goods carriage and starts unloading the cartons manually. He keeps each carton on a cart parked alongside the goods carriage and clears the entire coach in twenty minutes, leaving the carton without a security stamp.

  The middle-aged man asks his young peer to leave with the cart. He waits until his colleague leaves. The next moment, he pulls out his phone and selects Altaf’s number from his contact list.

  “Asalam walekum Janab,” greets the middle-aged man on the phone.

  “Wale kumad salam Chacha” replies Altaf.

  “I have your carton with me. What next?” Asks the middle-aged man.

  “Leave it in the railway gatepost on Rasulpura road. My men will collect it from there,” says Altaf.

  The middle-aged man pushes the carton to the edge of coach and steps off while holding his cellphone to his ear.

  “And what about that girl? Are you giving her her food on time?” Questions Altaf.

  “Yes, I am! Three times a day without fail. I serve her dinner at around 8 PM before I leave for home,” replies the middle-aged man as he walks while carrying the carton under his arm.

  Arjun follows him. He looks at station clock hanging from the beam.

  “4.00 PM”, he reads.

  Arjun continues to follow the middle-aged man for another hour. He nips back to Swati’s place in between and returns to the same railway station after an hour of physical exercise.

  24th December 2012 8:00 PM | Kasur Railway Station, Pakistan

  The open yard of Kasur Railway station had a pantry in one corner alongside the brick wall painted in white. A long corridor between huge racks of plastic-wrapped cardboard cartons ended at a metal door, with a tube light glowing above it.

  The same middle-aged man walks down the corridor and enters the pantry. A narrow room with walls covered with ceramic white tiles and a marble shelf running across the edge of the room. The shelf has huge aluminium utensils stacked one on top of the other. In one corner of the pantry alongside the window is a huge gas burner with a steel handi placed on the flaming burner. Next to the burner stands an old man with a white cap and curly white beard, wearing an apron and twirling a spatula in boiling gravy. The old man smiles at the middle-aged fellow and confirms, “Janab, the food is ready and packed.”

  Jamal smiles back and starts walking towards the shelf opposite the burner, which has two disposable trays covered in aluminium foil along with a small pouch placed on top of it. At that moment, Jamal picks up the trays, he is questioned by the old man, “Is the girl Ok?”

  “She is ok. Don’t worry,” replies Jamal and starts walking towards the exit.

  Jamal is stopped by the old man again. “How long do you plan on keeping her here?”

  “It’s not up to me to decide. Don’t worry! You will be rewarded handsomely when she leaves,” Jamal replies, with his face still facing the exit, and walks away swiftly.

  From the lone corridor in the storage yard, Jamal walks to the exit which opens on to the platform by the ticket counter. The platform is silent with only a few passengers waiting for a train. Jamal briskly walks across the footbridge crossings the tracks and reaches the opposite platform. After another five minutes of walking, he reaches a railway check-post built over a road, which is crossing the railway track.

  Jamal enters a single storey building with a small front yard. There is a a dilapidated shed with spiderwebs hanging from the cracks. The wall facing the yard has filthy windows with rusted iron bars running from top to bottom. The windows are covered with fresh-looking wooden planks running horizontally from left to right, covering the entire frame. In one corner of the yard lies a pile of broken metal parts with rusted paint covered in dust.

  The top edge of the wall running along the asbestos shed had minor gaps from which Arjun can see a white light glowing behind the wall.

  Jamal pulls out his keys from his pocket and slides one of them into the lock hanging on the door. While Jamal turns the key, Arjun slides inside.

  Arjun enters a long hall with spider webs hanging from different corners. The room holds more clutter along its shorter edge. At one end has a torn bedsheet covering a mouldy cotton mattress, with a dusty pillow and a ragged blanket placed on it.

  Ankita is sitting silently on the mattress. Drowned in emotion, Arjun moves closer to her and gazes at her ashen face. She is bruised on her forehead and her arms. She is wearing a dusty Salwar Kameez, torn at the waist and shoulders, Ankita had multiple injury marks in red and blue. Arjun can feel her pain as he gazes at her.

  Jamal steps in. Ankita flinches on hearing his footsteps. He goes closer to her and places the packaged food alongside the bed sheet. In a low voice he says to Ankita, “Kareem Chacha has sent pickle for you.”

  Ankita looks at him but doesn’t utter a word. Jamal turns around and picks up the empty food packet placed near the door and walks out. Arjun stays in the room and continues to gaze at Ankita. He then hears Jamal lock the door from the outside.

  Arjun spends another minute contemplating. He looks around the room for a while and then rises up in the sky.

  26th December 2012 9:00 PM | Swati’s Residence

  Arjun wakes up in his bed and looks around. From the open door, he can hear the whistling sound of a pressure cooker. He gets up and walks over to the kitchen. Swati smiles on hearing Arjun’s footsteps. She opens the lid of the pressure cooker and questions him while peering into the cooker. “Anything about Ankita?”

  Arjun replies, “I know where she is imprisoned. I found her locked in an abandoned storage yard at Kasur Railway Station.”

  “Take a break and then you need to verify the same in the present - if she is there or not.” Swati turns around and looks back at Arjun.

  “Hmm... yes, I should,” mutters Arjun and then asks, “Did you get our passports?”

  “I did and in fact, I also had a word with an agent regarding the visas as well, but it will take close to 15-20 days,” replies Swati.

  “Any quicker means?” Asks Arjun

  “Yes, we can apply as priority travellers and get them as quickly as in seven days,” answers Swati.

  Arjun closes his e
yes in pain and wails, “Ankita is bleeding every single day. I saw her wounded and they aren’t even providing her with medical assistance.”

  “I understand, but this is as fast as we can go,” consoles Swati “I’ll submit the forms tomorrow morning. From now on, you should start visiting Ankita on a daily basis or even twice a day. We must be aware if they change her location.”

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  Chapter 19

  Another Messenger

  26th December 2012 11:00 PM Shekhawat Palace, Jaipur

  A sleepless night and after cremating both her mother and brother, Maya returns to her room. Persuaded by her aunt, she finally lies in her bed but keeps her eyes wide open, recalling the moments of horror.

  Maya is now the only heir left of the Shekhwat family. Bright big eyes, lustrous skin and raven black hair, she is far prettier than any girl in Jaipur. She curses in anger and deep within she strongly wishes for an opportunity to take revenge.

  Ranjeet had always bought her the most magnificent art effects from across the globe, but the last one took his breath away.

  She clearly remembers Zaffar’s face and boils with rage, but doesn’t let it come out. Though she tries not to sleep, her tired body pulls her into a dream world.

  She finds herself in the gardens of her own residence, the Shekhawat palace. It’s afternoon and the water bed surrounding the fountain mirrors over the ripples. Under the umbrella along the fountain, she sits, with her brother Ranjeet sitting beside her.

  Even in the dream world she remembers the truth about his death, but denies it to experience the blissful moment of seeing her brother alive in a dream.

  Dressed in a husk coloured Jodhpuri suit with golden buttons and sharp-tipped shoes, Ranjeet sits alongside her beaming with happiness.

  “I need your help, Maya,” says Ranjeet, and his voice echoes like travelling through a tunnel.

  The next moment, the bright sunny afternoon turns into stormy weather. Dark Clouds gather in the sky and within seconds the open area turns dim. Wind blows away the table umbrella and a dart stabs her brother in the forehead. His face turns blue from the poison. She hurriedly stands up and grabs the falling Ranjeet by his arms.