by Ranjit Lal
‘The baby – is yours?’ Red-top asked as she came over and smiled at Mihika. ‘She’s so sweet!’ Rani’s growl died in her throat and she whined questioningly.
‘She’s my sister… just did the big job.’ He picked up the powder.
‘You don’t have an ayah for her?’ the second girl asked, looking around in surprise. ‘And where’s your mother?’
‘The ayah had to go off and my mom had an interview, so I brought her here myself,’ Gaurav shrugged, knowing his face was scarlet and his ears were on fire.
‘What’s her name?’ Red-top asked, leaning forward as Rani pricked up her ears.
‘The dog’s Rani; the baby’s Mihika.’
‘Hi, Rani,’ the other girl said softly, reaching out to pet Rani while Gaurav closed his eyes and prayed that the Alsatian wouldn’t amputate that slender wrist. ‘You’re a beautiful dog.’
To his amazement, Rani put her ears back and licked the girl’s hand, her tail sweeping from side to side. ‘Wow,’ he said, wiping his brow, ‘she has never let strangers pet her.’
‘Monica’s always been like that. She befriends every dog in thirty seconds flat,’ Red-top said, smiling in an alluring sort of way. ‘Oh, by the way, I’m Raveena and this is my sister Monica.’
‘Hi! I’m Gaurav,’ he said, lifting Mihi’s chubby pink legs up so he could slip her new diaper under her. ‘Mihi, hold still a second, will you?’
‘I must say you have guts.’ Raveena shook her head in admiration, making him feel pleasantly hero-like. ‘Bringing a baby that size by yourself to the park takes guts.’ She stepped close beside him, her hair brushing against his cheek for a second. ‘Here, I’ll hold her legs up; you slide the diaper underneath… There you go, baby!’
‘It’s not such a problem usually, but she pooped,’ Gaurav explained, hoping to impress them. ‘I wanted to change her on that bench there under those trees, but a stupid cop stopped me. What’s with them?’
Raveena made a face. ‘Oh, apparently the PM’s coming to the India International Centre to inaugurate something, so they’ve bottled up the whole area. Just be grateful they didn’t close the gardens completely.’
‘Do you walk here often?’ Gaurav picked up Mihika and put her in the stroller. They emerged onto the courtyard and he picked her up again as Raveena carried the stroller down the steps. ‘I’ve seen you here before.’
Monica nodded. ‘I know. We’ve seen you and your dog too. When we’re in Delhi we come here quite often, but we’re due to leave for the mountains – tonight, actually. We’re going to teach at a school there next year. We thought we’d take a farewell walk here.’
‘Oh!’ Gaurav’s face fell. It would have been nice if they became the first friends he made in Delhi. Not girlfriends, of course – that place was forever taken – just friends, whom he could tease Zara about. But he’d probably never see them again in his life. ‘I’d better get going. Nice meeting you, and thanks for your help.’
‘Would you like to take a walk?’ Raveena asked.
‘Sure, no problem.’ He couldn’t believe it. They had actually asked him to walk with them! He was walking with these two hot chicks, probably thanks to Mihi and Rani. Oh, boy, wait till he told Zara!
Both girls were looking at him, their eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘So what do you do, Gaurav?’
‘I’m finished with school; now waiting for the colleges to open. I believe admissions here can be quite a pain. I’m new to Delhi…’
‘Yes, you may as well enjoy your free time while it lasts.’
‘How old is Rani?’ Monica asked, taking the leash from him. Rani didn’t seem to mind at all, and just looked back at her new friend from time to time and wagged her tail.
‘She’s two. We got her in Bombay, from this Parsi family. She’s been professionally trained; her dad’s owner insisted.’
‘Oh! She’s a gorgeous dog.’
‘She dotes on Mihi. She’s so protective it can be a problem, you know, when relatives and friends want to hold Mihi.’
‘I can imagine.’
They strolled about in companionable silence for a while and then Monica looked at her watch. ‘Hey, look at the time; we’d better get going. We have a train to catch tonight and last-minute packing to do.’ She extended her slim hand. ‘Bye, Gaurav, it was really nice meeting you.’
‘Bye.’
‘Look after Mihi, and take care.’
He nodded wordlessly.
‘Bye, Rani!’
The girls then leaned over the stroller and waved at the baby. ‘Bye, Mihi. Be a good girl and don’t do any more doodles on your brother!’ Raveena smiled. ‘Hey, I forgot – would you like the picture I took? I can send it to you by e-mail.’
‘Sure, thanks.’ He gave them his e-mail address. Probably nothing would come of it. They’d just forget and that would be that.
Desultorily, Gaurav walked back towards the gate. A gentleman of perhaps sixty, with close-cropped iron-grey hair and a neat moustache, wearing a blue safari suit, was sitting on a bench with a magazine. He smiled as they passed. ‘That’s a beautiful dog you have there, son,’ he said.
Still thinking about his meeting with the two girls, Gaurav looked up distractedly. He was about to walk right past him. Rani was on the side closer to the man. He smiled uncertainly and tightened his grip on the dog, ‘Yes, sir,’ he said as, sure enough, Rani’s hair began standing up and a growl rose in her throat. She glanced at the man, her ears pricked. ‘I’m sorry, sir, she’s just being protective of the baby… my little sister.’ The fellow looked like a brigadier-general or something, and surely he had seen his picture in the newspapers sometime ago? Some sort of commando top brass who had recently retired. If Rani lunged at him…
But the man smiled indulgently. ‘I know. I saw what happened with that policeman earlier. Stupid fellow, raising his stick like that. I know what these dogs are like. I have two of them and they won’t let anyone get near my grandchildren. But you’ve kept her wonderfully.’ He extended his hand. ‘Diaz,’ he said, ‘my name’s Diaz.’
‘I’m Gaurav Roy and that’s Rani, and this is Mihika.’ The man had a firm grip and his eyes twinkled. ‘Nice to meet you, sir,’ Gaurav added, trying to remember exactly who he was. Oh, yes! That chap who had single-handedly infiltrated and taken down a massive terrorist operation, and saved the lives of almost the entire Cabinet. He was a major hero, and a very strong voice for police reform. It all came back to him. He smiled proudly. ‘She’s a great dog, sir!’ Automatically he stroked Rani, who quickly licked his hand.
Diaz nodded appreciatively. ‘They’re better than people. Your baby sister has the best protection in the world.’
It was so rare to come across someone who really appreciated dogs in this park and it was fitting that he was a national hero – like papa. Most people were either scared or scowled in disapproval. ‘Sometimes it can be quite a problem.’
‘You’re right; she has already disapproved of me,’ Diaz chuckled as Rani began to growl again. ‘But she’s a smart dog!’ He got up. ‘I’ll walk with you a bit if Rani doesn’t mind.’
Rani rumbled a little and kept an eye on him but, seeing that Gaurav was relaxed, she too remained calm. Diaz left them soon, with a brief nod and smile.
Gaurav cheerfully walked on towards the main gate. It hadn’t been a bad outing at all, he thought; in fact, it had been damn good. Even though Mihi had done a doodle, he had met two friendly and very pretty girls. What’s more, Rani had made an impression on the country’s top commando boss, even though she had growled at him. Maybe he’d meet him here again. It was a pity the girls were going away, though.
The pedestrian crossing was right in front of the gate and there were cops everywhere now, some talking urgently into radio sets, others frantically directing traffic and blowing their whistles. The parking lot was empty except for two police Gypsies. One burly fellow with a bristling moustache and piggy eyes swaggered up to Gaurav as he paused at the edge of the
road.
‘Oye, wapas andar ja,’ he barked, his eyes bulging belligerently. He looked a little drunk.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
‘I told you to go inside!’ The cop said again as he caught Gaurav’s shoulder roughly. ‘Are you deaf?’
Rani growled menacingly and something inside Gaurav snapped. He’d be damned if he let this arrogant prick push him around. He wriggled free and turned left, and began walking towards the Lodi Road-Max Mueller Marg crossing.
‘Abbe!’ the cop yelled, striding after him. ‘Saale, I told you to get inside!’
This time Gaurav obeyed. He walked around a structure that almost butted into the road and spotted the narrow gate of an open-air restaurant to his left. Holding Rani by her collar, he turned inside it. ‘Fucking bastards,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘The only time they do anything is when a VIP’s around.’
The wail of the sirens grew louder and a couple of white Gypsies with flashing lights careened past, brimming with cops brandishing guns.
It was just inside the gate of the restaurant that Gaurav noticed the elephant standing peacefully in the open space to his right, facing the road, swinging its trunk, its mahout perched on top, eagerly peering at the road, waiting for the VIP cavalcade.
‘I don’t believe this! There’s an elephant standing fifteen feet away from us,’ Gaurav said incredulously ‘Easy, girl. It’s just minding its own business, and you do the same.’ He clutched Rani’s collar tight. The dog was still looking back towards the gate, baring her teeth.
A moment later the cop rushed in and, spotting them, blew three long piercing blasts on his whistle. The elephant threw up her trunk and trumpeted shrilly, totally spooked, and bolted towards them. Rani turned her head.
What followed was like a series of vivid flashes: Rani wrenching free and throwing Gaurav off balance as she leapt towards the elephant. With another ear-splitting trumpet, the elephant swerving away, bulldozing out of the foliage, smashing flower pots, charging out through the gate and blundering into the road like a runaway tank, her mahout knocked off by an overhead branch. The cop diving to one side and falling against the fence as the animal thundered past. Shouts, whistles, screams, sirens, screeching brakes, and fireworks bursting… lots of fireworks… Then the cop, slowly rising to his knees, raising his gun and pointing it towards the gate where Rani, triumphant at having seen the enemy off, was barking defiantly. She turned around to rejoin Gaurav and Mihika, her tail waving jauntily. And then the gun spitting flame, and Rani violently flung up and backwards, yelping, yelping, yelping…
Suddenly, Gaurav was down on the flagstones with what seemed like a gorilla on his back, straddling him, yanking his arms behind him, grabbing him by the hair. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Mihika’s pram being shredded, her bag being ripped open, another cop stuffing his hand inside the bag with the soiled diaper – served the bastard right. And then Mihi herself, in the brawny grasp of yet another cop, held high, shredded of every vestige of clothing, screaming with terror. Someone shouting in the distance.
Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!
Then Gaurav’s forehead slammed against the ground again and a knee was thrust against the back of his neck, and the blackness rushed in.
TWO
Special Agent Shroom glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes mere slits in her pale oval face, her expression inscrutable. The two new minders employed by the Geek Empress were still on her tail. The tall one – the one they called Gudiya, for god’s sake – with the slithery plait and long snake-like face and nose, was trying to smile as she struggled to keep up. The other one, squat and podgy – Savita, she was called – seemed in better shape, though she was flaring her nostrils a bit. Well, in precisely thirty seconds, both were going to be in for a shock.
Shroom turned and smiled sweetly at them. ‘Wait there,’ she said, ‘I want to go to the bathroom.’
‘Baby, let’s go home,’ Snake-face said, looking around.
The little girl had spent the last hour sitting at the edge of a narrow rocky cliff, gazing at the waterfall and tossing pebbles into the pool below. She had finally clambered to her feet and balanced her way through the jumble of boulders that formed the left bank of the narrow gorge – ‘Hourglass Gorge’, the Geek Empress called it – through which the stream rushed before broadening out and falling over the mountainside. The two women had nervously watched her, hovering close: madam had said that the girl could lose her balance or stumble while walking so they should be close at hand, but she had seemed sure-footed as a mountain goat and imperiously waved them away. It wasn’t surprising that she wanted to go to the bathroom – the roar of the waterfall and the jade-green mountain stream gurgling and splashing past tended to have that effect.
Shroom shook her head and pulled her floppy hat down over her fuzz-bald head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘the house is too far away. I’ll go behind this bush. You stay there, and don’t peek.’
She slit her eyes again and gave them another appraising look. First and oldest trick in the training manual: the bathroom deception – would they fall for it? And they did – what sort of training did these girls get! She slipped behind the bush, took her hat off and propped it on a convenient branch, and expertly wriggled down the mountainside till she was level with the stream. Her footing was instinctive, and there was no sign of the imbalance and unsteadiness that had plagued her in the past and made her miserable. She was back in her element. Now, ducking behind the big white river boulders, where the dippers flitted and dived and the forktails flaunted their coat tails, she made her way upstream towards the stone bridge which they had crossed.
Twenty minutes later, Shroom slipped into a ditch at the base of the bridge and scrutinized the stone guardhouse. Should she cross the stream – it ran low and was easy to hop over on the stones without being spotted by the guards – and sneak back into the Geek Empress’s palace grounds, or cross the stone bridge? She had been strictly forbidden to do the former but there were so many things she wasn’t supposed to do, it didn’t matter any more. Or should she follow the stream for a bit, then get back up on the path and cross at the second wooden bridge further upstream, and give those two – Snake-face and Flared-nostrils – a real run for their money? Yes, that’s what she would do, she decided.
Maybe she’d pop into Emerald Eden Estate and say hi to Megha aunty. She wasn’t feeling tired as yet. Shroom knew that woozy feeling all too well, when she had to sit down and be still and hold her head till it passed. Sometimes it didn’t pass and she had to be carried back to her bed, but that hadn’t happened for a long time now. Besides, Megha aunty always had nice things to eat – cake or Quaker-oat biscuits – and they gave her energy and helped her keep her strength up. Yes, that’s what she would do.
She deftly made her way along the rocky bank and then scrambled onto the stony path that ran above it. She looked back; there was no sign or sound of pursuit, but they must have started the chase. Carefree, she trundled down the forest path, looking at the mushrooms sprouting out of dead pine logs, some pale white, some beige, some bright yellow…
After the first time they had shaved her head for the operation, she had looked herself in the mirror, held her head, and exclaimed in horror: ‘But I look like a ’shroom!’ Somehow, it became a nickname. First the doctors and nurses, and then everyone at the hospital began calling her Shroom. Of course, everyone except the Geek Empress, who always called her by her real name: Rukmini. But then, the Geek Empress, spare and severe with her steel-rimmed Mahatma Gandhi glasses, tight bun, pinched-up face and green veins in her neck, was not the kind of person who would call anyone by a nickname.
Shroom glanced back. Still safe, but she’d better speed up. From her backpack she took out her spare hat – a camouflage floppy one – and rammed it over her head. Nothing like a bald head to attract attention, and in this place the bald head belonged to one person and one person only.
Snake-face and Flared-nostrils must be hot on her
trail now. She grinned; she knew what she’d do: she’d go even further down the path and see what Agent Anantram and Dr Sham were up to this morning. They were forever crawling about in the bushes and undergrowth with their cameras and microphones. They claimed they were photographing birds and recording bird-calls and songs. She had heard some of their playback recordings in the neat Tinopal-blue cottage they had rented for the past six months. They said they were doing some major research project to see if birds had accents and dialects, like people did. What a dumb cover story – of course birds living in different places would speak or sing in different languages and tunes. Make no mistake, they were undercover agents and it was her job to find out their real assignment was.
Shroom took out an energy bar and bit into it as she wandered down the forest trail, bursting into snatches of song. Beside her, the stream rushed past in its pell-mell manner. The pine, oak and deodar trees beyond sloped down the mountainside and into the valley. On her left, the cliffs rose up to the mountain ridge, but it was always easy to find a way up. There were several narrow tracks leading to the higher path that ran parallel almost near the top of the ridge. For a second she paused to watch a little kingfisher, like a piece of sapphire jewellery, dive into the stream and emerge triumphantly with a little silver fish that it proceeded to dissect on a branch.
Shroom crossed the second wooden bridge that led, some distance down, to the gates of Emerald Eden. She’d pop in on her way back, she decided, and continued down the path, now running alongside the near bank of the stream and on towards the birders’ cottage. Do a thorough recce before you enter enemy territory or, well, anyone’s property; if nothing, to reassure their dogs that it was only you. She was glad Tinku had not accompanied her this morning; she always barked when she visited people, to let their dogs know that she had arrived. She’d been sleeping in the sun when Shroom had tiptoed past her, grinning wickedly.