Authors: Mainak Dhar
‘So if someone commits a murder, we are supposed to sentence him to death. Who is the executioner? And if someone does so, will that person be a murderer when things get back to normal? What about jail terms? We don’t have a jail. How will we set one up?’
All the questions were perfectly understandable, but also not something we could act on. The problem was that she was thinking in terms of a society and institutions that no longer existed. I took the list and addressed everyone.
‘I had always heard of the letter of the law and the spirit of the law, but never imagined we’d have to make such decisions on their basis. But this is the world we live in and this is the world we will have to apply the spirit of our laws to. The first thing to keep in mind is that everyone should have an opportunity to prove their innocence—we cannot become a lynch mob.’
I saw several nods and continued.
‘Secondly, we do not have the luxury of a long-drawn trial, so the people in this room, people who represent all our buildings, will have to act as a jury and decide on guilt or innocence. Finally, for the guilty there has to be punishment. We do not have to decide on the punishment for murder now, but I would like to propose a punishment for rape. We send that person out of our society at night with no food, water or weapons.’
‘That would be like a death sentence.’
Bhagat had spoken and I looked him in the eye as I said, ‘Without punishments, there will be no deterrent. We will just be a bunch of people sitting here talking while someone out there feels they can get away with anything. If they think we cannot provide and enforce security here, our whole neighbourhood will fall apart.’
Bhagat was not so easily convinced. ‘So who will mete out this punishment? Who will get the accused here?’
I walked towards him and saw him take a step back. ‘I suppose it won’t be you. So let me do your dirty work for you.’
The guards at Khaitan’s society opened the gates without much fanfare or protest once they saw Pandey standing behind me, rifle in hand. The society may have decided not to join us, perhaps hanging on to their past notions of exclusivity, but it was obvious just how much they were struggling compared to those who had pooled resources. The building was dimly lit and the guard told me that the sole working generator allowed them to power only one bulb per apartment. Even that was due to Nitish’s going out of his way to repair one of their aging and poorly-maintained generators as a sign of good faith.
It didn’t take me much time or effort to climb the seven floors to reach Khaitan’s apartment. I had to knock on the door several times before it opened. It was dark inside the apartment, other than the dull glow coming from a candle on a table in the living room. Khaitan grinned at me, and I thought his eyes looked strange. Then I saw the whitish powder near his nostrils and on the table and I knew what he had been doing.
‘Dude, what can I do for you?’
‘I need you to come with me to the committee meeting at my society.’
He laughed, a harsh, guttural sound.
‘I don’t live in your society, dude, and have no desire to waste my time there. Once the lights come on, I’ll likely never have to talk to people like you again. Now let me get back to what I was doing. I’m almost at the end of my stock and I have no idea where I’ll get good coke in this mess.’
Pandey stirred behind me, and I could see him unslinging his rifle from his shoulder. I motioned for him to stop. Khaitan made to close the door but I put my right hand against it and pushed it open.
‘Her name is Mangla.’
I saw no recognition in his eyes.
‘The girl who claims you raped her. Her name is Mangla.’
I saw a flicker of panic in his eyes and then he composed himself, looking at me with eyes that were suddenly sharp and predatory.
‘And you believe her?’
I tried to control my rage and answered in as even a tone as I could. ‘All I ask is that you come and answer the charge. Tell everyone where you were when the rape supposedly happened. Tell everyone your side of the story.’
He slapped my hand down and tried to close the door again. I pushed it open and held it harder than before, and when he tried to push my hand away again, it didn’t budge.
‘Dude, you are not a fucking cop. Show me a warrant or get the hell out of here. Let the power come back and I’ll sue your pathetic little ass.’
‘Please just come with me and tell everyone your side of the story. This is a serious allegation and we have to investigate it. I am not saying you are guilty, but please help me by coming along and answering a few simple questions. A girl has been brutally beaten and raped.’
He suddenly grabbed my shirt and pulled me close enough that I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
‘Listen, dude, I can buy all of you with my spare change. One call to the commissioner from my dad and no cop will touch me. So even if I did bang some girl, nobody will care. People like her are born and die every day in their filthy slums and nobody gives a damn. If it bothers your conscience so much, I’ll pay her a lakh or two like I used to with the others.’
He laughed and continued and I could feel hot tears stream down my face.
‘And even if I come to your pathetic society, I’ll clean up, shave, put on my best clothes and get some people who’ll swear I was with them when the rape happened. Dude, lots of people around here owe my dad big time, and nobody will mess with me because they’ll be screwed when the power comes back on. The CEO of one of our companies lives here and I can bet he’ll say I was eating lunch with his family when you say I was raping this bitch. You will never prove anything, and I’ll actually get a couple of my flunkies who live nearby to say that they screwed her and it was consensual, that she often offers herself for money. She should just take the money and forget it—nothing will happen to me but she’ll be known to everyone as a whore.’
He suddenly took a step back as he had just noticed my tear-stained face. Poor people like Mangla would never have gotten justice in the world we had lived in before. Their lives had counted for nothing in the eyes of people like Khaitan, but now it was up to us, up to me, to determine the justice they would get in our new world.
I grabbed Khaitan’s wrist with my left hand and jerked it back. I placed my right palm against his elbow and pushed back till I heard the snap of his arm breaking. His eyes widened in horror and pain and he began to scream, a sound cut short as I stepped towards and across him and slammed the knife edge of my right palm up against his nose, breaking it. He staggered back into his apartment, and I held his left shoulder in a lock as I pulled him out into the balcony and then threw him over the railing. He screamed briefly, and then there was the thud of his body hitting the ground. I looked behind me at Pandey. He just nodded and then started running down the stairs.
By the time I had walked down, the guards were gathered around the body and they looked at me as I went past them. I heard Pandey tell anyone who came to check that Khaitan had committed suicide when confronted with his crime. I walked out of the society gates and towards my home, looking at the blackness in the city beyond, a blackness that mirrored what I felt inside my own heart.
I sat up, barely breathing, my body coated with sweat. Megha was stroking my arm, whispering something in my ear, but the words didn’t register.
‘What am I becoming?’ I said, finally.
She held me tight. Pandey had told everyone about Khaitan’s suicide, and people seemed to have bought the story, at least on the face of it. But I could not hide the reality from Megha.
‘I killed him. I threw him off the balcony when he admitted he raped her and said he’d have people who would provide him with an alibi.’
‘That makes him guilty. That makes him a rapist.’
‘And it makes me a murderer.’
I got up and looked out the window. It was just after four in the morning, and in the darkness, we could see a glow on the horizon coming from some areas of the city that were still burning.
Megha came up and stood next to me. ‘Aadi, look out there. Our world is not what it used to be, and in so many ways, that is terrible. But in the world we lived in, people like Khaitan would have gotten away with what he did. We know he’s raped many women before. At least you stopped him from hurting anyone again.’
I turned towards her. ‘Who am I to do it?’
She hugged me tight. ‘Aadi, in this world we’re now in, people don’t earn the right to do things because of the title they have or the uniform they wear. They earn that right by standing up to be counted. That’s what earns you the right. That’s why so many of us are still safe while the city out there seems to be on fire—because you helped get people together and stood up when we were in danger.’
I could see her eyes blazing and then her gaze softened. ‘That’s why I love you.’
I held her tight, and then we heard a knock on the door.
It was the General, visibly tired and panting but he managed a grin when he saw me.
‘General, why did you climb up the stairs? You could have waited for the lift to work in a few hours.’
He sat down, putting the duffel bag he was carrying on the table. ‘I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk and met Pandey. Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me anything, but I could sense he was hiding something and I thought we should have a little chat as soon as possible. I haven’t grown all these grey hairs by being so naïve as to believe that a scumbag like Khaitan would suddenly grow a conscience and throw himself off his balcony. I chatted with the guards at his society, and his drugs, drinking and assaults on women were an open secret. Nobody would talk about it when he was still there but now they’re all whispering about it.’
I sat down heavily. Megha was right next to me, holding my hand.
‘General, he…’
He looked at me sharply.
‘You need not offer any excuses. If you killed him, the bastard deserved it. I’m not here to judge you, but to tell you something.’
I looked at him in silence and he continued. ‘For all the gripes we had with the system and the society we lived in, at least there
was
a bloody system. If someone committed a crime, at least there were people who were supposed to do something about it. We may have bitched about the corrupt cops or the slow judiciary, but we could talk about it in the comfort of our homes, since it was someone else’s job to deal with it. Now, there is no system, no government, no cops and no judges. We have to figure out how to deal with crime and security. Not just lay down the laws, but to enforce them.’
‘We have the committee to lead—’
The General cut me off with a snort of derision.
‘They are old and happy to sit and talk, but none of them are ready to take the hard calls that need to be taken. You, my young friend, are, and so you are doing what needs doing. My advice to you is to take the mantle of leadership that you are de facto demonstrating. That way, you won’t beat yourself up for feeling like you’re being a loose cannon or just doing someone else’s dirty work.’
‘General, I can’t just appoint myself leader. That would be a dictatorship and we all know where that leads.’
‘History, Aadi, history. When we think of dictators, we think of Hitler and Pol Pot, but how it started in ancient Rome was very different. When they faced crises, strong and trusted leaders took on the position of dictator, with the power and authority to do what was needed to defend the people. When the crises passed, the leader would hand back the reins of power to the civilians.’
‘General, you have military command experience. Why don’t you step up and take that position?’
He laughed. ‘We need a leader who can lead from the front, not an old man with one foot in the grave. Now, I have something for you.’
He took out a shiny 9mm pistol, along with a shoulder holster and three spare clips, and placed them on the table. Next to the gun, he placed several boxes full of ammunition.
‘General, I already have the pistol you gave me.’
‘And you’ve used it well, but I thought our leader needed more serious firepower.’
I was about to protest when he held up his hand to ask me to stop as he continued. ‘This gun belonged to my youngest son, Mihir. He loved shooting and got this on a personal licence.’
He handed me the gun, and I took it, wondering where this was going.
‘Mihir was a Major in the Paras and, a year ago, he and his team tracked down fidayeen outside Srinagar. They killed three of the bastards but the last two went into a church and took hostages. They threatened to kill the hostages if they weren’t allowed to escape. The state government panicked, and asked the Army to stand down while they negotiated. They didn’t want dead civilians so close to the elections. Mihir knew from Army Intelligence that these fidayeen had fought for ISIS in Syria and were hard-core. They would more likely want to create a theatre of executing their hostages and then go down in a blaze of glory than negotiate. But he had orders and so he asked his men to stand back while the cops and bureaucrats stepped in. The negotiations went on for hours. Then the bastards uploaded a video on Twitter showing them beheading a hostage. Mihir and one of his men defied orders and went round the back and entered the church through a window. They had no overwhelming firepower, but he did what he thought was right to save people. The two fidayeen were killed and the hostages were saved.’
Tears welling up in his eyes, he went on. ‘Mihir killed both bastards, but was fatally shot as well. He was not given any order, he was not given any authority, but he stepped up and took charge, and made the ultimate sacrifice. Sometimes, my son, taking on leadership is not about a position or power, but sacrificing yourself for others. Putting yourself second. You are much like Mihir in that respect, so don’t shrink from the leadership that you are already earning. Embrace it, and the burdens and sacrifices it brings.’
When the General left, neither Megha nor I could get back to sleep, so we lay beside each other, watching the city burn in the distance, wondering what horrors people there were enduring. It was at 05:30 in the morning when we both stood up and gaped at what we could see through my bedroom window.