Arzee the Dwarf

by Chandrahas Choudhury

  ‘All right, Deepakbhai. I owe you one.’

  ‘If you don’t want the work, don’t take it,’ said Deepak. ‘Just don’t call me to whine and complain. It’s your job then to figure out how you pay back our money.’

  ‘I’ll handle it. Thank you, Deepakbhai. I don’t know why we never got to talking all these months.’

  ‘I don’t know why we’ve got to talking now. It’s nothing but endless trouble for me.’

  ‘Ha ha…good joke, Deepakbhai. Happy Independence Day to you, Deepakbhai – even if there’s nothing in it for us. My leg has gone to sleep, I’ve been sitting so long.’ Arzee gave a slight bow in the direction of Deepak’s wife and said, ‘Good night, Ashaji.’

  ‘Good night,’ she said, smiling brightly.

  ‘You’ve certainly put on some weight since I saw your mug for the first time, little man,’ said Deepak, as he saw Arzee to the door. ‘Your cheeks are baggy like a bulldog’s.’

  ‘I know, Deepakbhai. I haven’t been taking care of myself. I can see your belt goes straight around your waist, while mine – it’s like one of those rings around the planets. That’s why I wear my shirt out. Just a moment…’

  ‘Why does your shoelace keeping coming undone all the time?’

  ‘These laces aren’t good-quality, Deepakbhai.’ Arzee tied the knot again and rose, and his face suddenly grew rapt. ‘Look, Deepakbhai! I hadn’t noticed that you can see the Noor Cinema from your corridor. That’s it there, between that building and that one!’

  ‘So it is,’ said Deepak.

  ‘You come to the cinema and I’ll show you around, Deepakbhai. Come soon before it’s gone forever. Then you’ll see why it’s such a big thing for me.’

  ‘Everything is a big thing for you, small man,’ said Deepak, as he lit a cigarette. The hiss of a pressure cooker sounded from inside. ‘Will you run and switch it off?’ came his wife’s call. ‘I’m working!’

  Deepak groaned, and put out his cigarette. ‘Coming!’ he called, and he shrugged and said to Arzee, ‘What’s the use of having a wife? See you, small man.’

  ‘See you, Deepakbhai. I’ll call this Mehndi. It’s this way – no, it’s that way.’

  Arzee went away, down the unlit stairs, and with every step he felt more lonely and lost than he had ever felt in his life. All his sadnesses came fluting up from under the stones with which he had weighted them, and he realized that he could not lie to himself any longer, and at the same time that nothing that he wanted could ever be his. What was the use of having a wife? Phiroz knew what the use was, and so did his son-in-law, else he wouldn’t have agreed to marry his daughter. And Deepak knew what it was, because otherwise his home would never be so happy and bright, and he would really be a nasty person, instead of merely acting like one.

  And there was still a chance – Arzee had been thinking about it ever since Deepak had said those words. There was still a minute chance – if he could bring himself to swallow his pride. A word of news about her – a flicker of warmth from the pot gone cold. He had nowhere to go – soon he would have all the time in the world. If he knew where she was, at least he’d go to her town, watch her silently from behind a tree or wall as she walked down her street. Even if she’d become a wife to someone else, he’d know it, and he’d make himself happy with that misery, as he’d once made himself happy with happiness.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ he thought. ‘I’m asking to be punished, but it’s my only chance.’ He turned and went up the stairs again.

  Deepak was standing in the corridor, smoking his cigarette after having finished his work.

  ‘You again!’ he said, and covered his face with his arms and pretended to hide. ‘Will you never let go of me?’

  ‘Deepakbhai, I…’

  ‘Why don’t you go see that other friend you were talking about yesterday?’ said Deepak. ‘I’m tired of talking to you, little man. I didn’t know it then, but chasing you was easier.’

  ‘Sorry, Deepakbhai. Listen, Deepakbhai! There’s just one thing I thought I’d ask you.’

  ‘I knew that the moment I saw you,’ said Deepak, and sighed. ‘Ask. But let’s put a limit on it, else you’ll take up the rest of the night. You’ve got thirty seconds to get it all out.’

  ‘Something has been eating me up for the longest time, Deepakbhai. From even before we met. I’ve never told you anything about it – but not because it’s not important. It’s only because we’ve never really talked.’

  ‘What a waste of seconds. What is it?’

  ‘Deepakbhai, just now you said the syndicate could find anybody. Were you serious, or were you joking?’

  ‘I was serious. Everybody knows when I’m joking, because I laugh, and lead the way.’

  ‘I was just checking, Deepakbhai. It’s not that I didn’t believe you – ’

  ‘Counting down from ten…’

  ‘So then…could you find someone for me? It’s very important, Deepakbhai.’ Arzee reached out for Deepak’s hand and clasped it.

  Deepak whistled, and sent a spark of ash floating down into the yard. ‘Okay, okay! Now I’ll take that back,’ he said, extricating his hand. ‘So? Who is it you’re searching for, little man? What a big life-story you’ve got locked up inside that little box.’

  ‘I never knew it was going to turn out like this, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘Who is it? Is it a long-lost twin brother?’

  ‘No, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘Is it someone who owes you cash?’

  ‘No, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘Is it a girl?’

  ‘It…it is, Deepakbhai. Don’t look like that! You’ll have to meet her to see why I’m asking you today, Deepakbhai. It was good, Deepakbhai, it was so good. And we were going along fine, there wasn’t anything wrong, and I didn’t say or do anything either. It wasn’t my fault, Deepakbhai! And now she’s gone, gone like a ghost. Her father was behind all this, Deepakbhai. He was a demon. And I made it worse. I got angry with him and slapped him. But I didn’t mean to. My hand just went out by itself.’

  ‘I’ve known you’re a violent one since the time you kicked me a dozen times in that alley yesterday,’ said Deepak. ‘So? When did you last see her?’

  ‘About a year ago. I try not to think about it any more, Deepakbhai, but I don’t know why today – I don’t know why – when you said – when I saw you and your wife and – and then the news of the cinema – and suddenly I – I –’

  ‘You’re crying?’ said Deepak incredulously.

  ‘I – I –’

  ‘Don’t cry now, little man. Girls who ditch you aren’t worth weeping over.’ Deepak gave Arzee a cuff on the shoulder. ‘Trust me, I know all about these things. Let your tears be tears of joy, at being rid of a girl like that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Deepakbhai,’ Arzee mumbled. ‘I shouldn’t have brought this up. I should have just gone home.’ He blew his nose in his handkerchief, and did not raise his head. ‘You’re a very lucky man, Deepakbhai, even if you fought with your parents. My home isn’t like yours. I have a family too, but sometimes I feel they don’t understand me at all. They try to, but they can’t. There’s been only one person – only one person –’

  ‘Your complaints never end, little man. This is very interesting. What was your ladylove’s name, and how did she fall for a runt like you? Was she little too?’

  ‘No, Deepakbhai. She was five-foot-two. Her name was M-M-’

  ‘Mum? This is a surprise.’

  ‘Monique! It’s the first time in ages that I’m taking her name, Deepakbhai. I told myself I’d never take it again.’

  ‘Mon-eek? What sort of nonsense name is that?’ said Deepak. He scratched his head. ‘Isn’t it a Christian name?’

  ‘Yes, Deepakbhai.’

  Deepak let out a shout of laughter. ‘So I was right!’ he crowed. ‘You did take the message of your parents, and found a Christian girl to make you grow bigger.’

  ‘Why do you keep on like that, Deepakbhai?’ cried Arzee. ‘A girl
is a girl, whatever her religion is. Love is love. How could I have helped what she was? Let’s leave all this aside, Deepakbhai. We might already be too late. Will you try, or won’t you? Else I’ll go from here. I don’t want your help.’

  ‘You demand things just like my boss,’ said Deepak. ‘Though I think that if we’re too late that’s best, because you’ll save yourself a lot of grief that way. She’s fallen for someone else, little man, that’s what it looks like. And if you ask me, it’s not all her fault. Size does matter. But it’s up to you.’

  ‘I want to, Deepakbhai. I must! Once I know what happened I’ll put it to sleep in my life, and move on. It’ll be good for me. It’s the not knowing that’s the worst, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘I can’t promise you anything,’ said Deepak. ‘But I can try, if you’ll promise to pay off all your debts.’

  ‘That’s a deal, Deepakbhai! I’ll do it. I…I don’t know how to thank you, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘Don’t bother, as it’ll take you at least ten minutes,’ said Deepak. ‘Come by tomorrow to the office with a photograph of her, and leave it for me. Don’t tell me you don’t have a photograph.’

  ‘I…I might have torn it up and thrown it, Deepakbhai. I’ll have to check in my box.’

  ‘You do that,’ said Deepak. ‘Now, I was going to smoke this cigarette, and have a little think about life in peace and quiet. But of course I hadn’t thought you’d come back with a hundred new demands, and now it’s only a stub. So I’m going to try again. Do you think I’m going to succeed?’

  ‘I won’t disturb you any more, Deepakbhai. I’m going right away. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Deepakbhai. See you, Deepakbhai.’

  Down the stairs went Arzee again, and this time they didn’t seem so bleak. ‘I cried, and made a fool of myself, but it happens,’ he consoled himself. ‘It happens sometimes. Deepak nearly cried too, when he spoke about his parents. In every life there’s something that hurts.’

  When he reached the gate of the chawl and looked up through still-blurry eyes, Deepak was still smoking in the corridor, looking up at the sky. Standing there halfway between the ground and the moon, Deepak seemed to be at the very centre of the world, the intermediary that every transaction in Bombay, from work to weed, went through.

  NINE

  Being a Bottle

  All afternoon, a big green furry bottle – big for a bottle, that is, but small for a human being, which under the surface it undoubtedly was, since it walked on two legs, wildly waved two arms, and emitted a medley of squawks, neighs and moos, mixed with snatches of dialogue from movies and ululating calls of ‘Auto! Auto!’ – a large green bottle had been scooting around the Inorbit Mall in the suburb of Malad, creating a stir.

  No one knew who was inside the bottle. Its size suggested a boy, but the voice it emitted was deep and raucous like a man’s. It had appeared all of a sudden, and now it seemed to be in many places at once. One moment it could be seen gliding balletically upon the white marble floors, and the next it was ascending or descending upon the escalators, murmuring in puzzlement with a finger on its lips as it examined the faces of people around it. Every now and then it extended an arm upwards in a slow curling motion, as if it had just learnt to move, or raised one leg and stood deep in thought on the other. Sometimes it sassily waggled its yellow-striped hips, or came close to and stared at some interesting specimen of the human species, usually female. It was having such a good time that a gaggle of giggling and shouting children were now following it everywhere, tugging at its arms and butting it in the ribs. The bottle thought it might be taken captive by this mob and scurried away, then collided into a pillar and caromed off in another direction. But then the top of its suit flopped over its eyes, and, disoriented, it flailed wildly and fell over on its backside. Everyone laughed when this happened, but no matter – there was none of the embarrassment of falling over in a public place felt by people. In fact the bottle itself emitted a loud cackle before getting up and dusting itself off vigorously, clutching at a rib and then a knee in an ornate choreography of anguish. Adjusting its suit over its head so that it could see again, it spun around on the tip of one foot.

  ‘Auto, auto!’ it crooned. ‘Stop, stop! Don’t go off without me, auto, I’ll pay you whatever you like. I’m Limzee, now in a new small size! I won’t take up too much place in your back seat, auto!’

  It teetered dangerously as if drunk, which it could have been, as bottles are made for drink. Retreating into a corner to catch his breath, Arzee caught a glimpse of himself in a shop window and said to himself: ‘What a week it’s been! It feels like I’ve spent my entire life being a bottle.’

  Arzee hadn’t the faintest idea of what might be in store for him when Deepak had given him Mehndi’s number. Deepak was a canny fellow. He just gave Arzee the number, and said Mehndi would tell him the rest. And when Arzee called Mehndi, Mehndi asked him to come over and meet him at his office in Mazgaon.

  So the next day Arzee had left Sule in charge of the evening show, and taken a bus out to Mazgaon. He found a window seat and sat up tall so he could be absorbed in the view and shut out the glances of passengers, and when he saw old villas in the Portuguese style on both sides of the road, and Christian women showing a bit of leg in frocks, he knew that he had arrived. He hopped off the bus and, taking directions from smirking gatemen, found his way to the building, over twenty floors tall, in which Mehndibhai had his office. He felt a tightness in his stomach, because it was a new chapter in his life – the first time he was doing some work for the syndicate.

  ‘Why did Deepak refuse to tell me anything about it, and Mehndi too?’ he wondered. ‘I know – it’s because it’s going to be something dangerous! But there’s always a first time for everything. I’ll become a new man – I’ll make the syndicate my Noor. Once I’ve crossed over, I won’t need to look back. I’ll be over. I won’t look back.’

  As Arzee entered the building, the lift doors were closing, and he dashed forward and stuck his foot between them. The doors retracted, and he jumped back with a shriek.

  Standing inside the lift, cowering in one corner as if about to be attacked, was another man, and he was the same size as Arzee! And not only was he a dwarf, he was also the ugliest, most pitiable person that Arzee had ever seen. His tattered clothes hung from him held up with safety pins and mismatched buttons; his joints seemed somehow to be shivering and squirming independently of each other, making it look as if he was about to crumble; he looked as if he had never eaten a decent meal in his life, or heard a kind word. His eyes danced with fear, his teeth chattered, and the burn mark on his forehead glistened. The two men kept looking at each other, and finally the other said to Arzee, ‘C-c-c-come in.’

  Arzee entered, the lift doors closed, and he saw that the other dwarf was going to the thirteenth floor, the same as he. From opposite corners of the lift cage, the two men kept looking at each other as if hypnotized. The tension in the air was such that it seemed as if the cage would explode before it reached the thirteenth floor. Then the light above their heads flashed, the doors opened, and they stepped out.

  ‘Are you going to see Mehndibhai too?’ asked Arzee.

  The other man nodded, and seemed to wait for Arzee to lead the way.

  ‘It’s that way,’ said Arzee. ‘That’s the number, thirteen-ofour.’

  There was no response from 1304 when he knocked, but then they heard the sound of boots on the floor, and a dark, stocky man, his hair dyed a flaming orange, turned up from around the corner.

  ‘Have you come to see me, gentlemen?’ he said, bending over and shaking hands with both of them with exquisite courtesy. ‘Ah, good. Come in. Do come in.’ He opened the door to his office with a key from a large bunch, and Arzee and the other dwarf followed him in, careful not to come into contact with each other.

  Mehndibhai’s office was a single, sparsely furnished room. There were three telephones and a half-eaten sandwich on his desk, a couple of aloe vera plants at the window
, a faded red carpet on the floor, and nothing on the walls but a clock and a calendar. Mehndibhai threw the sandwich into the dustbin and wiped his fingers fastidiously on a pink paper napkin.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ he said. ‘Now, gentlemen, have either of you been given any idea of what this work involves?’

  ‘No,’ said Arzee, and next to him the other dwarf shook his head too. ‘Is it – is it going to be dangerous, Mehndibhai?’

  ‘Is it dangerous?’ Mehndibhai seemed amused. ‘Not too dangerous. Now, you have heard of the soft drink Limzee?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Arzee. The other dwarf was silent as a stone, and when Arzee glanced at him he saw that he was looking up at Mehndi with his mouth open, as if unable to comprehend what was going on.

  ‘So let me explain,’ said Mehndi. ‘When the hot season is over and the rainy season begins, consumption patterns change. So the company is launching the drink in an alternative smaller size to meet the changed demand situation, where people are not so thirsty.’

  ‘So it’s to do with a soft drink!’ thought Arzee. ‘And I’d had such visions and tremors over this! I don’t know what I keep thinking to myself. But at least it’s not going to be dangerous.’ And he spoke up: ‘I know – I’ve seen the ads on TV. Limzee: small size, small price. For the first time I’m realizing today it rhymes with my name, Mehndibhai.’

  ‘And you’ll find out today that it rhymes for a reason,’ declared Mehndi. ‘Now, when something is launched, there is always publicity.’ Mehndi began to pace up and down, as if working everything out freshly. ‘And in our kind of saturated market situation, where at every step the consumer is bombarded with a million messages, we know conventional publicity methods must always be supplemented by new ideas. Are you getting me?’