What Did Tashi Do

by Anangsha Alammyan

The clock would strike seven any moment now. She was running out of time.

  Heeding her persistent pleading, the blackmailer had deleted the video and her contact details from the website on one condition – that she should not back out from his request of a masturbation session over a video call. Anxious in her need to save herself at that moment, she had agreed.

  But now that push came to shove, Tashi didn’t know what to do.

  She stood in the balcony for a few moments, letting the dusk wash over her. Another day died in front of her eyes, another meaningless 24 hours filled with hopelessness.

  She leaned on the steel railing, feeling the cold metal pressing against her thighs through her sheer nightgown. It would be all over in an instant, she thought. Nothing mattered now except this moment, the dying sun, the cold wind on her bare shoulders and the fact that she, Tashi Chotten, had given up.

  Her mother would arrive in another three hours. She was indeed running out of time.

  Her body shaking violently with fear and resolve, Tashi took a step.

  Chapter Seven

  Tashi, you crazy woman

  It was forty minutes past seven in the evening.

  A woman stepped out of a twelve-storied building, her hair in disarray. A loose cardigan was thrown lazily over her shoulders as if she had put it on in haste. Her clothes were mismatched, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

  Her gait was unsteady as if she were drunk. She walked with the air of one who had lost the will to live. Every few steps, she kept looking back as if to check if she were being followed. Then, looking ahead and gaining her composure, she walked on.

  The woman’s name was Tashi Chotten, and today, she had lived through one of the most gruelling experiences of her life. She had faced a storm head on and had come out victorious. It didn’t matter that the victory was short-lived; that it rested precariously on the thin edge of a dagger.

  What mattered was that after months of being made to feel small and defeated, Tashi had fought tooth and nail to carve out for herself a small victory.

  On normal days, she would have booked a cab. But today, she had left her phone and all the nightmares it housed behind at home. She walked instead to the nearest metro station.

  On normal days, she would have jumped at every noise, terrified of every peddler who tried to sell her something from their shop. But today, she was impervious to the noise. All she had ears for was the furious raging of the storm inside her head.

  Today, she trundled on in a haze. Her her mind was clear, set on what she was out to achieve.

  The metro station was a ten-minute walk from her home. To her frayed nerves, those ten minutes felt like an eternity, a lifetime wound into one long walk to a place she had been to so many times and, yet, felt like an unknown land hiding its demons.

  The ride to her destination was uneventful. She found a place to sit in the women’s compartment and stared ahead. No one paid her any heed, and she found some solace in being surrounded by other women too wrapped up in their own worlds to cast a suffering soul a second glance.

  She reached where she had to get down after eleven stops. As she stepped out into the once-familiar streets again, a strong wave of nostalgia hit her. She had frequented these places in her college days, but it had been a while since she had found herself among the comforting aroma of incense mingled with fried pakodas, and that of cigarette smoke mixed with jasmine flowers.

  Some young boys were playing cricket using wooden bats and makeshift stumps. She ducked as a ball threatened to fly close to her head, but it missed and landed next to her feet instead. She stopped in her tracks, picked it up and flung it back to the waiting boys. “Thank you, Didi,” one scrawny boy among them shouted and ran back to his group of waiting friends, who got engrossed in their game instantly.

  Tashi took the first left and stopped in front of house number three. The walls were painted violet, the gate a warm shade of blue. The board hung outside said “Ahuja Residence”.

  She stepped inside and took a moment to take in all the familiar sights: the marigolds of late 2014 were replaced by flowering magnolias now. A row of flower pots with bright red roses nested cosily along the length of the front veranda.

  Everything else looked the same as if the flowers in this house were the only things the passage of time had altered.

  Tashi had been in front of these doors hundreds of times before, always greeted by a smiling Mrs Ahuja who ushered her in and treated her to a steaming cup of masala chai. Today, she didn’t know who would welcome her in, or if there would be anybody to open the door at all. But this place was her only hope now, her last shot at ending the ordeal she was trapped in.

  She held her breath and lifted a trembling hand to ring the doorbell.

  For a moment, there was no answer. She turned around, faced the busy street and sat on the porch, prepared to wait till someone arrived. But in a few heartbeats, there were sounds of hustling from inside. She stepped up and faced the door as it opened in front of her.

  A dark-haired, bearded and slightly plump man was standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a simple brown tee, black pyjama bottoms, and slippers. His left hand held his phone while his right was on the door, holding it open. He stared at her for a second before recognition flickered in his eyes. His face was lit up with surprise.

  “Tashi,” he exclaimed. Without waiting, he stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug.

  Manav’s affectionate embrace felt like home – like this was the comfort she had been seeking all these days. Tashi hugged him back, fighting tears of self-pity.

  “Oh my gosh, I was so mad at you for not making time for me, but look at you now,” he said, breaking off and smiling at her. “Come on in; my parents are out shopping now, but they will be here soon. Trust me, they will be delighted to see you.”

  She smiled weakly and followed him inside, looking around to gather her bearings. The house didn’t seem to have changed much – the comfortable couches by the large windows, the polished mantle pieces smiling from the shelves on the walls, the royal blue Turkish carpet covering the floor – everything was in its place as Tashi remembered.

  A million emotions were assailing her heart, but for the moment, she felt protected. Manav sat her down on the couch in front of the television set and handed her a cushion to cuddle, as had been his habit back in their college days. She accepted it and held it tight, feeling the need to squish it tighter than she would have usually done.

  “Tashi, you crazy woman. How have you been? Why haven’t you been answering my calls? I was angry before, but now I am thrilled to see you,” he said, sitting down opposite her.

  “Manav,” she said in a weak voice.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked, concern softening his gaze.

  “No, Manav. Nothing is all right,” she said, her hands covering her face. Her hair fell over her palms as she broke down into soft sobs.

  He came to sit next to her, put his arm around her shivering form and let her weep onto his shoulder. When her sobs subsided, he told her in a soft voice, “Shh, Tashi. I am here now. You are safe.”

  ***

  Manav’s parents had arrived some time back and after the customary hugs and greetings, he had dragged her into his room for want of some privacy. Two cups of hot chocolate and a half-finished plate of vegetable fritters lay on the table beside where they were seated.

  Tashi had been talking for the better part of the past hour. “And today I had reluctantly got on a video call with him, not knowing what to expect. He had his camera turned off, of course. When I confronted him about the video he had uploaded, he told me it wasn’t actually mine - just something he downloaded from another website and added my name and phone number onto it so other people would think I offer sexual favours for money. After that, I got so disturbed that I deleted every single account I had on social media, switched off my phone and came straight to your home. I want to run away, Manav. I cannot handle this any longer.” />
  Stark shock was swimming in Manav’s brown eyes. He had been listening intently to her all this while, stopping her at times to add questions of his own so he could understand her story better. She had been uncomfortable initially, but the concern and lack of judgement in his voice helped her open up.

  “So, this guy was pushing you all along just so he could record a video showing your face?” Manav said, subconsciously scratching his chin. “Damn it, Tashi. This has gone on for far too long. We need to make it stop. Come with me, we are going to the police” he said, picking up his jacket and car keys.

  “Now?” she asked, eyes wide with trepidation.

  “Yes. Now,” he replied, holding out a hand to help her out of her chair. “I want that bastard behind bars and I want it as soon as possible.”

  “But I am too afraid to tell my mother.”

  “You needn’t be afraid, Tash. Whatever has happened until now – none of it is your fault.”

  “What if she is ashamed of me?” Tashi sobbed.

  “No, Tashi. I have known Aunty for so long - she has always supported you no matter what. Don’t you remember that time during our college elections when Tara and the other girls had blamed you for siding with the opponent lobby? The complaint was made to the Dean, but Aunty had stood her ground, refusing to believe you would do something like that till it was proved.”

  Tashi nodded weakly.

  “I am sure,” Manav continued, “that in these desperate times, she will stand by you with even more fierceness than before. She will be proud that you have been so brave.”

  “Will she?” Tashi gulped.

  Manav gave her a small smile. “Sometimes, even though we feel like the entire world is against us, the battle isn’t meant to be fought all alone. Strength can be found by opening our hearts to let the people who love us in.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” she said, gratefully. Then, she bit her lip, suddenly unsure. “There is one more thing that has stopped me from going to the authorities for so long,” she added.

  Manav cocked his eyebrows, waiting.

  “Supposing the police take action and put him behind bars; what is there to guarantee he wouldn’t make my life hell once he is out?”

  At this, Manav frowned and bent down to look her in the eye, “Tashi, I am also not sure about India’s victim protection law. But the best way out now is to ask this to the people who might have some information.”

  She nodded. “Okay,” she said, rising. “I am not sure if mom is home yet, though.”

  “We will wait if she hasn’t arrived. And we will pick her up on the way to the police station.”

  “Manav,” she whimpered. “I am afraid.”

  “Don’t be. I told you before, didn’t I? I am here, Tashi. You are safe.”

  ***

  Mrs Chotten’s mouth was open in shock after Manav had finished narrating the story. Tashi was standing behind him, half hidden, staring at the ground with tears in her eyes.

  “What are you talking about, son?” she asked, gesturing wildly with her hands. “Who did all these? Ashi, since when has this been going on?” She was almost shouting.

  At this, Manav stepped forward and held her arms to calm her down. “Aunty,” he whispered so her daughter wouldn’t hear. “Tashi has been through a lot already. We have to stand by her and be strong, at least for her sake.”

  She stood there for a few moments, saying nothing, staring blankly from Manav to Tashi and back to Manav again. Then, comprehension dawned on her wrinkled face and her whole body started shivering. Her eyes filled with tears, she ran to Tashi and pulled her in an embrace.

  “Oh, my daughter,” she sobbed. “My poor, poor daughter.”

  ***

  Manav was driving with Tashi sitting beside. Mrs Chotten was at the backseat, silently wiping her tears. She was dressed in a pale pink kurta with matching leggings and a heavy travelling coat thrown over it. She had just arrived home and hadn’t yet changed when Manav had rung the doorbell. “Ashi dear,” she sobbed now, resting her hand on Tashi’s right shoulder. “You handled so much stress all on your own. Why didn’t you tell me before, baby?”

  Tashi was crying too, but for the first time in several days, these weren’t tears of shame or fear. She was crying because her mother had been with her all along; only she hadn’t approached her for fear of how she might react.

  Sitting in the car in the company of the two people who she loved the most in the world, Tashi felt like a human being after a long time, that she deserved something better than the constant humiliation and ridicule she was subjected to.

  It was almost nine at night when Manav stopped his car in front of the police station. They got down and walked inside together, with Manav leading the way. Tashi followed, holding her mother by the arm. Several uniformed police officers were seated inside, and Tashi was nervous because she didn’t know whom to approach for a complaint. Manav asked around and located a desk which they walked up to and filed an FIR with the officer-in-charge. They wanted to wait to talk to someone in a higher position, but the officer-in-charge asked them to leave.

  “You may go home,” they were told. “Someone will look into the case and get in touch with you.”

  But what if the blackmailer tries to contact her again? She cannot keep her phone switched off forever.”

  “Next time the blackmailer does something, inform us. We will have somebody look into it,” the officer-in-charge informed them.

  Chapter Eight

  It is a dead end

  Tashi was seated in the Delhi Police Cyber Crime Cell, wearing a simple green shirt with blue jeans, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Her mother, who had accompanied her to the police station, was waiting outside. Tashi sat across from Inspector Indrajit Bhowmick, with his scarred, yet polished desk separating them.

  The inspector had a spacious office lined with shelves full of old folders and creased paperbacks in different colours. A golden framed logo was hung on the wall behind the inspector’s chair with shiny letters proclaiming: ‘Satyameva Jayate’ – ‘Truth alone triumphs.’ His window looked onto the street outside, with a tiny fraction of the iron sky visible from where she sat. Tashi glanced at an odd series of clouds. They looked like misshapen chimaeras breathing ashen fire onto the world.

  Presently, he was leafing through a file of her case, with several lines he had jotted down during their past hour of interrogation. He twirled his moustache absent mindedly with his left hand and his otherwise clean-shaven face was set in a frown. His broad shoulders were pulled back, his posture perfectly upright. He squinted in concentration as they flew through the lines and lines of text, forming an opinion, drawing conclusions.

  “Miss Tashi,” the inspector said, looking up and holding her gaze. “These photographs the blackmailer sent you – were they clicked with a phone or camera?”

  “They were clicked with a phone, officer.”

  “Whose phone was it?”

  “Some of them were taken with my phone and some with my ex-boyfriend Akash’s,” she said, frowning, as she tried to remember. “But whenever we clicked a new picture, we used to share the images with each other. After we broke up, I deleted all the explicit images of us from my phone. I asked Akash to delete them too, but apparently, he didn’t.”

  The inspector raised an eyebrow at this.

  “Yes, sir,” Tashi continued. “I had called him a few days back to ask about the blackmailing, and he said that he still had the photographs. In fact, he had shown some images to at least one of his friends.”

  “Okay,” Inspector Indrajit said, noting the information down. He was trying his best to not make her uncomfortable. “Do you recall how many such images and videos were there?” he asked, lifting the pen to hold it between his pursed lips.

  “We didn’t have that many. But we were in a relationship for almost three years, so there must be around 250-300 – most of them were photographs.”

  “Before you deleted t
hese images, was your phone ever stolen, or did you leave it unsupervised with somebody else?”

  “No, sir, it was never stolen. I am a very private person, so I don’t give my phone to anybody. It was always password-protected. And anyway, I used to delete the images regularly, so that there weren’t too many photos at a time.”

  “Moving on,” he said, “did you see the number on the blackmailer’s bike when he drove off?”

  “No sir,” Tashi replied, biting her lower lip. “It was too far away for me to make out.”

  “You stated in your FIR that his bike was black. Did you see what make it was?”

  “I am sorry, officer,” Tashi replied, staring at her lap. “I can’t recognise bike makes by looking at them.”

  “Hmm,” Indrajit said, furrowing his brow. “One last question: is there anybody from your office or neighbourhood whom you suspect?”

  Tashi thought for a moment before replying, carefully weighing her words “There are a few people in my office who pester me sometimes. But none of them know anything about Akash or my past to fish out those images.”

  “That will be all, Miss Tashi,” the inspector said, scribbling something in his notebook. “You may leave now. But remember – you will inform me directly the next time the blackmailer contacts you, no matter how harmless his intention might seem. You have my number, right?”

  “Thank you, sir. I do. And I will inform you as soon as he contacts me,” Tashi said and got up to leave.

  Raising his voice, the inspector called out to his subordinate, “Rajat. Take the contact details of the ex-boyfriend from Miss Tashi before she leaves. And call him as soon as possible to the station for some chit-chat.”

  Inspector Indrajit Bhowmick sat still in his chair long after Tashi left. He twirled his moustache subconsciously with his left hand, eyes staring out ahead, lost in thought.

  ***

  “I haven’t done anything, sir. Please believe me,” he begged, sweat trickling down his face.