The Branded Criminal: In Search of Liberation

by Yakub Totanawala

  Our families arrived. We hugged and pacified them and monitored their safe return.

  The police cordoned Chharanagar and restrained the self-immolation. The fire brigade stood on guard. They admitted Manoj to Ahmedabad Civil Hospital.

  The media blew up the issue. They had learnt about the meeting at Liberty Resort and reached there. The bodyguards took their positions to safeguard public servants from the public.

  Ketanbhai arrived with six ministers, escorted by dozens of associates and security men. Praveenbhai, the State Chief included. Shaved and scented and dressed in white cotton kurta-pyjama, and donning flamboyant jackets, they were worth watching. Everybody rose in respect. They sat opposite me along with Ketanbhai, Ramubhai and other prominent members. They adjusted their clothing and stretched their necks. Ketanbhai introduced everyone.

  ‘Vikrambhai, he is our honourable Home Minister. This is the Minister for Social Empowerment & Justice. Here’s the ‘Minister for Minority Affairs. And here is the Minister for Tribal Affairs, the Minister for Human Resource Development. And meet our National Party President and the State Party President.’

  Everyone joined their palms and greeted me, and I too reciprocated.

  Ketanbhai introduced me. ‘Saheb, he is Vikram Chhara, the present Chharanagar leader. Chhara is a tribe listed under Habitual Offenders. They have always supported us, and especially Vikram aka Vicky. Vicky worked for Veer Dal 15 years back and managed VD activities efficiently. He proposes a few requests to uplift the DNTs.’

  ‘One correction, Ketanbhai. These are demands.’

  Ketanbhai, Ramubhai, and many other members blushed.

  ‘What are the requests?’ asked the Home Minister.

  I removed a copy from my pocket and passed it to Ketanbhai. ‘My demands, Saheb.’

  All the dignitaries behaved decently. The hall witnessed discipline. No member talked or murmured, and their timidity glowed on their faces. Their plans to subdue me had failed, in fact, boomeranged. The Home Minister read my copy and discussed it with other Ministers. Guddu and I sat with confidence, courage and zeal.

  ‘Vikrambhai,’ said the HM. ‘We understand the drastic discrimination your tribe has faced. You have always been supportive of us. We promise the best solutions to your requests.’ He paused and said, ‘I am told that you have a pen drive that holds our dangerous secrets. Better surrender it, immediately.’

  ‘Nice joke, Saheb. The paper I gave mentions our demands. And by no means I’ll entertain any settlement over it. Either you accept it or reject it. That’s all.’

  ‘You cannot be rigid in politics,’ said the HRD Minister.

  ‘Correct. But it applies to mainstream people. For us Chharas it is allowed, Saheb,’ I said. Everybody fumed but remained mum.

  An MLA stood up. ‘Arre Vikrambhai. What is this?’ He tapped his forehead. ‘You have leadership talent and so many followers. Join our party. Why all this headache? Request our leaders and they will support you. Why all this unnecessary revolt and troubles?’ He turned towards the Minister and said. ‘What do you say, Saheb?’

  I closed my eyes and gripped the table. Couldn’t control. Picked up a water bottle and flung it on his face. Two MLA’s carried him outside for first-aid.

  ‘Nobody shall interrupt. Let our leaders handle this,’ said Ketanbhai.

  ‘Cool down, Vikram’, said the HM.

  ‘Dekho, Vikrambhai,’ said the Minister for Social Justice and Empowerment. ‘Revoking the “Habitual Offenders Act” needs time. We follow many formalities and procedures as per the constitution.’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Saheb. You are appointed for that job. All I want is the implementation of five demands. The delay is from your end. The political groups never show any concern for us and escape from the responsibility of our welfare. Endless people work hard and still struggle to uplift us, but you haven’t cared.’

  ‘The DNTs are criminals. They’ll disturb the peaceful society,’ he said.

  ‘Are you all not criminals? What makes you listen to a downtrodden Chhara if it were not for your crimes? DNTs commit an offence to satisfy hunger, but you are dreadful—you slaughter to fulfil greed. Which peaceful society are you talking about, huh? The one that breathes hatred, suppression and evils? Those who claim to be educated live like your puppets. And yes, who made the DNTs criminals? You keep exploiting them for benefits, like how the VD used me in the communal carnage.’

  ‘You think fulfilling your requirements will transform the DNTs? Stop daydreaming, Vikram,’ said the Tribal Affairs Minister.

  ‘Of course not. Change doesn’t happen overnight. They’ll continue with crimes for survival. But as humans, they deserve equality and it must be provided. This would be the first step. And the provision of education and legitimate livelihood will lead to their transformation.’

  ‘Our administration provides so many benefits. What’s the problem then?’ asked the SJ&E Minister.

  ‘What?’ I punched my forehead and gritted my teeth. ‘My dear sir, you don’t even have their population count yet, and you say there is no problem? Are you in your senses? The de-notified tribes face social boycott and stigma of British criminal branding. Society discriminates against them and rejects them. The police harasses and tortures them for they are listed under the Habitual Offenders Act. They have no identity certificate and live a pathetic life. Besides, the administration has created a mess. No clear rules are set for them. A few groups are classified as Scheduled Castes, few as Scheduled Tribes and a few as Other Backward Classes. Many tribes do not feature in any category. Further, while a tribe features as OBC in one state, it is listed as a Scheduled Caste in another. A complete absence of justified classification affects their development. No education, no job, no respect, but abuse and oppression everywhere. They live a cursed life and must be uplifted.

  From Human Rights institutions to United Nations, everyone has suggested to repeal the brutal Habitual Offenders Act, and uplift the DNTs. But you are least bothered. “But it wasn’t our government then?” said the Tribal Affairs Minister.

  “Hah. Being in the opposition, it was your responsibility too. Anyway, you are in power now; you clear it.”

  ‘Our government has offered many welfare programs for them,’ he said.

  ‘I appreciate it, Saheb.’

  ‘Vicky, come to the next room. Everybody wait here, we will be back,’ said the Home Minister. He caught my hand and pulled me to another room.

  The HM patted my back. ‘Listen, Vicky. We favour abolishing the nonsense regulations that harm our spirit of democracy. We have no objection to revoke the HOA, but you are mature enough to understand the political hurdles. Many will oppose due to vested interests. Mark my words; PM Saheb and I support you. But don’t leak the data. I’ll fulfil your requirements.’

  ‘Thanks a ton, Saheb. My hopes rest on you and the PM Saheb. Please help us.’

  ‘Sure. And keep away from the opposition. If they discover that you possess our dangerous information, the equation will change. They’ll obstruct the repeal and pressurise you to reveal our secrets. You understand?’ he whispered.

  ‘Got it, sir.’

  ‘Good. Keep our deal a secret. Be rigid on your demands and don’t oblige me in front of them. I commit to fulfilling your needs, and you assure me the security of our data. Simultaneously, continue your fight and create pressure.’

  ‘My promise to you, sir.’

  ‘Done. Let’s go. But behave as though our talks failed.’

  In the hall, the Home Minister plodded with his head down. ‘Rigidity is bad, Vicky. Reconsider your stand,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Vickybhai, you first withdraw the data from all locations and surrender it. I assure you the best solution to your proposal,’ said the HM in his last attempt.

  ‘No, Saheb; never. All I commit is to withhold the exposure if you accept my demands. And decide soon, for it irritates me to send a message every 30 seconds for your saf
ety.’

  ‘We need time,’ said the Minister for SJ&E.

  ‘You have had enough of it. These rascals wasted time hunting and kidnapping my family all the way from Udupi. They ignored to forward our requirements to you on time. The more you delay, the more risk you face; and I take no responsibility.’

  ‘Then keep this bloody pen drive with you,’ said Ketanbhai, and threw the compact storehouse on me. It hit my chest and fell. Guddu picked it up. Rascal must have copied it, else would never have thrown it.

  ‘Okay. Enough. I call for a ceasefire, Vicky. Do nothing for now. 16th is our State Government swearing-in ceremony. We will settle it by then. Meanwhile, I’ll discuss with the PM and the Social Justice & Empowerment Ministry. Okay? But you stop your actions. No self-immolation and no leaking data. Assure me.’ He stood up and invited me for a handshake.

  ‘I’ll accept the ceasefire against your commitment. Promise that after swearing-in, your administration will immediately fulfil our last two claims. Property registration in the names of the residents at Chharanagar and at Naroda Patia. Next, they’ll recommend the Central Government to fulfil the remaining three conditions. And you must initiate and execute it on priority. A pen stroke has shackled the lives of millions, and I’ll ensure that another stroke of pen liberates them. Let that ink be my blood.’ I declared, pressing my teeth.

  The discussion ended. They safeguarded us from the waiting media men and escorted us till Chharanagar. The gatekeepers welcomed us. We slept under a blanket of hope.

  Chapter—36

  A Testing Time

  The next day I visited Naroda Patia. At the well, I paid homage to all the victims, especially to my chocolate girl Munni. A thought flashed in my mind and I dialled my wife, Ameeti.

  ‘Hello? Vikram here, Amee. You, OK?’ I asked.

  ‘I am fine, Vikram.’

  ‘How’s your health, Amee?’

  ‘Fine, Vicky, I am alright.’

  ‘I called up for a request, Amee. Hope you will understand me.’

  ‘What is it, Vikram? All OK?’

  ‘Relax. No worries. Please understand me. My craving for a son forced you to conceive despite your ill health. I took you to various religious priests who gave their solutions. Many threads and paper slips tied over your body that must have burdened your mind and soul.’

  ‘I am fine with it, Vikram.’

  ‘But I am not. Amee, I request you to remove every sacred piece meant to deliver a son.’

  ‘But...why?’

  ‘Because I need a daughter,’ I said. Ameeti started sniffling and sobbing.

  ‘Yes, Ameeti; I am at Naroda Patia, repenting near the well of death. I am receiving positive signals from the universal power. I hope the chubby chocolate girl will forgive me. And to confirm my truthfulness, I seek a chance from the Creator. Give me a daughter, and I’ll bring her up with utmost love, care and affection, and prove that I value life and equality. I respect all creations, and I condemn destruction. My desire has changed. If the universal God blesses me with forgiveness, if my guilt and repentance earn the baby’s pardon, I’ll be blessed with a third girl child.’

  ‘I love you, Vikram. And I have removed everything. I feel so relieved now,’ said Ameeti, crying.

  ‘Thank you, dear. Goodbye for now and take care.’

  A BANG! Ameeti screamed.

  ‘Ameeti... Hello... What’s the matter? Ameeti?’

  My heart thumped. Her scream resonated in the air. I glanced around in a panic, disconnected the phone and dialled again. The line was busy. I called up my father-in-law then my mother-in-law, but got no response. With the back of my hand, I wiped my forehead. Trembling, I contacted Zaheer and explained the situation.

  ‘Take my car and rush to Udupi, please. I’ll message you the address,’ I said.

  I sprinted to Guddu’s home and dashed in, panting. I asked him about his family. They were home. Guddu gaped at me while I narrated the incident. ‘Let’s surrender, Vicky. We can’t win against them,’ he said.

  My heart disintegrated into a million pieces and my mind filled with turmoil. Pain climbed over me. I threw myself on the chair and sat holding my head. The thoughts gripped me—I should give up. I must focus on my life and family. No point fighting for these backbiters. “Our leader, Vikram Chhara” and “Long live Vikram Chhara” echoed in my mind. So did: “Why did we trust him?”, “He must have taken money.” I tugged my hair and banged my head on the wall. The cries of “We support you, Vickybhai” followed next and it spread tremors in my body. My tribesmen’s plight and family’s sufferings ripped me apart. I punched my thigh and stood again. I grazed my clenched teeth, breathing hard. Guddu hugged and consoled me.

  I called up Ashok Gowda, the Karnataka State Finance Minister, and requested for help. “I’ll look into the matter,” he said. I contacted the Commissioner of Police of Bangalore and Udupi. They too said they’ll look into the matter.

  I inquired with Zaheer. He was driving as fast as he could.

  Visitors and calls for greetings on our registration victory overflowed. I half-heartedly attended them.

  Shankar called me.

  ‘Vicky Anna, today is the worst day for us.’

  ‘What happened,’ I asked.

  ‘I am frightened to inform you, Anna. Our project leaders want to meet you. They say our clients have cancelled three of our prestigious projects.’

  ‘What? Are you drunk? You mean the township contracts of Mr. Patel, Mr. Shah and Mr. Mehta?’

  ‘Yes, Anna.’

  ‘What the fuck... why?’

  ‘High price.’

  ‘Nonsense. They awarded us after verification of our quality, cost and time-bound execution.’

  ‘You come here, Anna. Please.’

  ‘Damn it. OK, I’ll come soon.’

  I disconnected the phone and collapsed into a chair. My body sagged, and I held my head.

  ‘What’s the matter, Vicky?’ asked Guddu.

  With teary eyes and quivering lips, I explained to him about the loss in my business. Guddu repeated his previous advice.

  ‘I am going to VD’s office,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll join you,’ said Guddu.

  ‘No. You safeguard your family. I’ll handle this.’ I stomped out.

  My car screeched out. The smiling faces of my daughters and wife flashed before me. And as I gazed at them, they cried for help. I banged my head on the steering.

  I stormed into VD’s office and Ketanbhai’s cabin. He greeted me. I glared at him.

  ‘Bastard. If you dare to harm my loved ones, I’ll rip you off.’

  Ketanbhai looked surprised at my outburst. I tightened my fist and punched him on his face. He rang the bell. I grabbed his collar. ‘Where is my family?’ I screamed, jerking him. His associates barged in and I thrashed everyone. A dozen of them overpowered me.

  ‘Leave him,’ he ordered. With teeth clenched and nostrils flaring, I glared at him, panting. He pressed his handkerchief around his face and stretched his mouth. ‘Please sit,’ he said and rolled his tongue over his teeth. ‘What’s the matter, Vicky?’

  ‘My family...’ I growled.

  ‘What do you mean? We transported them home under your monitoring.’

  ‘While speaking to my wife this morning, I heard a bang and lost contact with them. I warn you of a disaster, Ketanbhai.’

  Ketanbhai stared at the wall. He clarified his innocence, held my hand and promised his help to find them. I dialled up Minister Ashok, but he regretted that he couldn’t provide any breakthrough. I warned Ketanbhai and left.

  I called up Ashok Gowda again, but no answer. A dozen messages to him went unanswered. I contacted the Police Commissioner. ‘We are tracing them,’ he said. For some clarity into the situation, I waited for Zaheer’s update.

  The imaginary visuals of my frightened daughters crushed me. I rushed to the PL candidate Deepak Patel’s bungalow. He welcomed me into his hall.

  ‘Deepakbhai, I need your
help,’

  ‘Ah, a grand warrior needs my support? How do I help you, Vicky?’

  ‘My family has been kidnapped.’

  ‘What? That’s bad.’ He rubbed a side of his nose and pushed backwards on his chair.

  “Help me find them, please. I beg you. I’ll remain grateful to you my entire life, Deepakbhai.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He sucked his cheeks in and crossed his arms. ‘Give me some time. I’ll try,’ he said, tapping his feet.

  I kissed his hand and pleaded for help. He nodded.

  I exited. I gripped the steering wheel and threw my head back. Pain poked my nerves. I held my head and pulled my hair.

  Ashok Gowda failed to provide a breakthrough. The Commissioners kept dragging their feet. Every official I approached remained evasive. My business loss ripped me, and the chaos at my office and my staff’s demotivation worried me.

  I hurried to Ramubhai’s bungalow. VD and MPP members were celebrating there. The guards let me in. Breathing heavily, I reached up to Ramubhai. He smiled and welcomed me. I grabbed his neck, punched him on his face and thrashed him till his subordinates subdued me.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ yelled an MLA.

  ‘You dared to kidnap my family again, huh? I’ll destroy you all.’

  ‘What nonsense,’ screamed another.

  ‘My loved ones are missing.’

  ‘But why do you blame us? Our leaders accepted your demands. Why would we capture them? It is absurd to accuse us,’ said another.

  Ramubhai pressed his palm on his jaws. ‘Please sit down. I’ll speak to the Minister,’ he said. He called up the Home Minister and notified him about my issue. Ramubhai handed me the phone.

  ‘Vicky, what’s happening?’

  ‘Sir, my family...’

  ‘Who else knows of your pen drive?’

  ‘Me, and my core team.’

  ‘I’ll investigate. Keep calm. Give the phone to Ramubhai.’

  They discussed. Ramubhai assured me of his support and kept in touch with me.

  Why was Ashok Gowda unconcerned about my family’s abduction? The Karnataka State Finance Ministers and the City Commissioners’ failure to solve the case distressed me. I contacted Ashok Gowda again, but he offered vague replies.