Emmett

It had begun to get dark. The satsangis of Dayalbagh in Agra were returning home after the satsang had ended. Far away from those roads and markets, Inspector Munir had given Shankar a full feast at the police station. The station looked no different from a bar. There was liquor, chicken, and a full spread of snacks.

While pouring water into Munir’s and the constable’s glasses, Shankar said,

“Yaar, you really gave us a whole feast... but my leg wound still hurts!”

Munir said, “You’ve come here for questioning. Did you really think I’d send you home empty-handed?”

Everyone burst into laughter. Munir then said,

“By the way, your pimp!”

Shankar’s laughter stopped.

“Don’t call him a pimp. He’s a businessman!”

Munir said, “Why, man? Why shouldn’t I? You gave him money because of that!”

Shankar said, “And you’ll get a promotion too. ‘Munir has caught a theft worth thirty-six lakhs’...”

Shankar laughed and then said to the constable,

“Why are you talking?”

The constable said, “Everything is fine!”

Shankar and the others laughed even louder. Munir also laughed.

“You remained a constable, just a constable. He’s asking how I’ll get all the credit.”

The constable said,

“Just like Lord Rama gets all the credit on Ram Navami... such huge posters everywhere.”

Munir happily hugged Shankar.

“Thanks, man. If you weren’t here, perhaps I wouldn’t have got the promotion.”

Shankar smiled.

“What was there to thank me for? Be grateful that our business runs smoothly and your money keeps coming with the cream.”

Munir then called an ASI.

“Hey, brother Bhadauria, just drop Shankar off.”

Shankar got into the jeep Munir had called. He had been brought in for questioning. The crime was serious, but Munir and Shankar had, in their own idea of goodness, pinned the blame for Shankar’s crime on one of his three friends. Granted, Shankar had paid fifty thousand rupees, but who had seen the money under the table?

That evening, Shankar had given them all the information: how the crime had happened, when it had happened, and who had played the biggest role.

There was a smell of alcohol on Shankar’s breath, so he began chewing gum. He asked the ASI sitting in front of him,

“Drive a little slower, will you?

Are you trying to send me straight to heaven?”

The policeman said,

“As you wish.”

After some time, Shankar asked again,

“How much do you earn?”

The policeman answered,

“A lot... around fifty thousand.”

Shankar said,

“With the cream?”

The policeman smiled.

“Brother, who gives us that much money? It’s better for a man to hire a lawyer.”

Shankar said,

“You must get your cream once every few months, right?”

The policeman said,

“Where, brother? Our traffic policeman, Kamal Nath, earns more than us! We only get tips from gentlemen like you.”

Shankar said,

“There was a time when lakhs used to pass under the table. Everyone was happy. Those on the right side of the table and those on the left side too.”

The policeman frowned.

“Brother, your era was different. Today, neither the thief nor the police can eat their fill!”

Shankar kept looking outside for a long time. Then he opened the window of the jeep and stuck his face outside. The crowds in the markets had begun to thin.

Shankar tried to distract himself again by asking the policeman,

“What is the punishment for criminals?”

The policeman said,

“The one who is the captain gets six years, and the tough guys get two years. It’s a non-bailable offence!”

Shankar’s drunkenness was beginning to fade.

“How do you distinguish between the captain and the tough guys?”

The policeman answered,

“It’s easy. Beat them hard with the stick. Whoever confesses gets the noose around his neck!”

Shankar nodded and began looking outside again. He took a pocket-sized whisky bottle from his pocket and took a few sips.

Shankar asked the policeman again,

“Then who became the captain?”

The policeman scratched his head.

“I don’t remember exactly... perhaps... it was someone named Emmett.”

Shankar’s mouth fell open. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth.

“Emmett?... Hmm... a good man. The poor man’s daughter was getting married in a few days.”

Silence fell.

Just then, a constable said with a laugh,

“No problem, sir. Bail can be obtained in this case!”

The whole jeep burst into laughter, but Shankar only smiled.

“Who will fight his case? His wife doesn’t even know what he does!”

The policeman burst into laughter again.

“This is what you call taking advantage of your wife and making a fool of her!”

Everyone laughed again.

Shankar’s eyes became red.

“I’m leaving. My house is nearby.”

The policeman said,

“You’ll be able to go, sir?”

Shankar told him not to worry. He would manage.

As the policeman left, he said,

“Sir, keep doing this kind of work, and we’ll keep sending the money too!”

Shankar got out of the vehicle and began walking while drinking whisky.

As he passed through the streets of Agra, he saw two dogs fighting over a piece of bread. Then one tore at the other’s eye and took the bread. When the other dog began crying, Shankar felt pity for it. He threw a stone at the first dog, tore open the packet of chips he had left, gave it to the other dog, and walked away.

After some time, he began thinking about what must be happening to the poor thing.

He had not even seen his friend’s face.

“Ah! Poor Emmett and his family. Never mind. He is powerful... if the case is fought, perhaps he will get bail.”

He walked for some time. Then he took a lane as a shortcut and kept walking. He did not even notice his own shadow. The lane was deserted, but even then, he could hear some voices.

He kept taking sips and walking without looking back. Drops of cold sweat began appearing on his forehead. When the alcohol was finished, he threw the pocket bottle towards the sound.

He shouted,

“Who is there? Come out!”

He saw the shadow of Emmett, a wound on his head.

The shadow said,

“I admit it... I... I was the one who had the theft committed.”

Shankar ran faster after seeing it. The shadow’s voice tore through his ears.

“You’ll get my daughter married, won’t you, Shankar?”

While running, Shankar reached the Radha Soami Bagh. Satsangis were walking around.

Seeing the people returning from the satsang, he felt a little relieved. He also walked towards them. Shankar stopped at a tea stall.

“Give me a cup of tea, brother.”

Saying this, he sat nearby. After some time, the tea arrived, but when he looked at the satsangis, he could not sit comfortably in front of them.

How good these people are. Compared to them, I am a worm.

He brought the tea close to his mouth but could not drink it. The tea reminded him of the whisky and the filth he had drunk while betraying his companions with Munir.

He thought of throwing the tea away when a satsangi said,

“Don’t throw it away, brother! Give it here. I’ll drink it.”

Shankar gave a false smile.

“No, no. I’ve already spoiled it.”

Saying this, he threw the tea away and left.

He thought to himself,

Poor fellows. Both their religion and their satsang would be corrupted if they drank something touched by someone beneath them.

He looked again at the streets of Agra. Today they seemed more beautiful than before.

He mocked himself,

“Look, even you have become cleaner than me, roads. Who knows what must be happening to the poor man. But no, you love your own life, coward.”

He entered the lane and walked towards his house.

He promised himself that he would never commit another crime again.

He rang the bell, and as soon as his wife opened the door, he hugged her. His wife was very happy, but he held her shoulders tightly and made her sit on the sofa.

“Mrinalini! Did you ever feel that I was doing something wrong?”

His wife said,

“No! Why? Whatever you do, you do it to feed yourself and your family.”

Shankar turned his face away.

“No, darling! Today something much worse happened.”

Mrinalini asked,

“Why? What happened?”

Shankar looked into his wife’s eyes and, gathering courage, said,

“Emmett. You know him, right? Poor man, the blame fell on him... and me? I was happily enjoying chicken and liquor!”

Mrinalini and Shankar both remained silent.

Then Mrinalini said,

“What is your fault in this? You didn’t deliberately frame him! Come, eat your food. Whatever is destined to happen will happen.”

Shankar did not eat and went to sleep as soon as he arrived.

In his dreams, he saw people being killed and rotting in prison. One of them looked like Emmett. Sometimes he heard the screams of Emmett’s daughter, who must have loved someone, but all the money saved for her dowry had gone towards her father’s bail.

He felt that Emmett’s wife had died from the shock and that he was burning in her courtyard.

Shankar woke up, washed his face, and went to sleep again.

The next morning, he stretched and began remembering the sins of the previous day. He bathed and sat on the sofa.

Just then, his boss arrived.

Shankar smiled.

“Come, boss. Sit down. Have some tea.”

The boss sat down on the sofa.

“I already had some, but I’ll have another cup.”

Both laughed.

Shankar asked,

“What brings you here?”

The boss said,

“There was a job.”

Shankar said in surprise,

“What job?”

The boss said,

“Oh, the same one!... You know, our usual work.”

Shankar stood up.

“No! I’ve stopped doing this work.”

The boss said,

“When and why did you stop?”

Shankar said,

“I stopped, so I stopped.”

The boss said,

“Think about it. We have to rob a very rich family!”

Shankar wet his lips with his tongue.

“No. I am not for sale.”

The boss said,

“Tell me the reason, brother.”

Shankar told the boss everything: what had happened, how it had happened, and how he had been drunk on luxury.

The boss said,

“What exactly is troubling you?”

Shankar said,

“All the dowry money saved for his daughter will be lost, and... and Emmett will rot in prison!”

The boss said,

“That’s all? Look at it this way too. How bad is the practice of dowry in society? This is the man whose house we have to rob. The valuable things are mostly for dowry.

“And don’t talk about prison. What was in your control? Whether he goes or someone else does. He is the one who deliberately framed him and even had him subjected to third-degree treatment.”

Shankar said,

“So what are you trying to say? I... I don’t understand.”

The boss said,

“You will earn merit, brother! Do one thing. From the money we get by robbing this man’s house, we will give some of it to Emmett’s family. Do it one last time, then live honestly! I am with you.”

Shankar kept thinking about all this for a long time.

Finally, the words came out of his mouth,

“You’re right. What is prison? He’ll get out anyway. But that rich man needs to be taught a lesson.”

The boss smiled and placed twenty thousand rupees as an advance into Shankar’s hands.

-Chandra Anshul ‘Advitiya’