Taaran Singh was a Lorry driver from the northern part of India. A Sikh by religion, he was born and brought up in Punjab. He was a well built man in his late thirties and used to go around in a traditional Sikh turban , kurta and Lungi usually. He used to flaunt a chin full of beard and a very masculine mustache. He had briefly served in the Indian army too in the past. However, thanks to his inability to stick to one profession, he had left it after the Kargil war. Though he was only in the cooking department, among friends he still used to boast about being an ex-army man. He had tried his luck running a liquor shop in partnership, but quit that too post a fight over the monthly share with his partner. He wasn't married , but like some of the fellow truck drivers; was addicted to street women and readily used to have paid sex once in a while. As for family; he had one elder brother,who had allegedly taken over whatever parental property was left and so they were not in good terms either. Basically, Taaran Singh had no one to call his own apart from some of his driver friends and his driving assistant Bhola, a 16 years old youngster, a runaway from home who; after finishing all the stolen money from his dad, had finally resorted to being a helping hand for this truck driver Taaran Singh. Taaran Singh used to pay him some part of his earnings, in return Bhola had to accompany him across long journeys through different states,covering miles,keeping the lorry clean, arranging food, liquor, helping in uploading goods in the lorry etc. etc. This was their life and it was going so for the last few months. Taaran Singh lived for the day, he never saved money. Once after a round trip of eight to ten days,driving twelve to fourteen hours each day he would take a break of couple of days during which he used to booze till the dawn and sleep through the day.
This was one such night. After unloading the goods at the warehouse finally; he along with Bhola had headed straight towards his center of rejoice - "Banjara Dhaba" - A cheap highway hotel near Delhi border which provided unlicensed alcohol at reasonable price and was a hub of people of his class during such nights. You could get lorry drivers, small time merchants, few local goons, a few occasional groups of local college students looking for cheap wine; and young and middle aged women to satisfy the lust of these men for a few hundred bucks. Taaran Singh had been driving for the last entire week and the scorching heat in the deadly summer had really taken a toll on him, but sleep was the last thing in his mind. All he wanted was to booze and let go of his senses till he fell down. In any case, there was Bhola to take care of him and his lorry.
Because of his talkative nature, he was quite famous in this place and drunkards usually liked people who could talk a lot. Often after getting drunk, Taaran Singh would tell them stories from his army days , or sometimes his village days at a young age , about his lost love Kajri who was married off to a rich farmer somewhere near Patiyala and how a poor financial condition and a cruel father forced the situation all the more against him. Few more pegs and Taaran Singh would start singing Punjabi Folk and old Hindi songs. He was a big fan of Bollywood movie star Sunny Deol and claimed to have seen all of his movies. Some; several times. Somewhere he used to imagine himself as manly and macho as the actor was usually shown in his movies. Frankly, he was obsessed with the actor and his style and literally respected him like a big brother. He could spend a fortune to once meet the actor in person and shake his hands.
Getting out of the lorry, Taaran Singh slammed the door shut and folding his Lungi up to his knees started towards the Dhaba. The dhaba had the woven cots called 'Charpoy' laid out in the open lawn with a slab made of wood in the middle, typical of such north Indian highway joints. It had some cheap furniture inside too in case someone preferred to dine on the table, but that choice was generally rare in this time of the year. People liked to sit in the open under the sky during the nights and have their boozing sessions. There were few huge earthen ovens called 'Tandoor' and most of the breads and chicken roasts used to be cooked there. It had a bar which had all the local brands of whiskey, beer and rum. Vodka was not generally a preferred choice for the type of people who visited such places. Taaran Singh, however, liked beer. He could consume bottles of beer in a night before he finished his quota. He used to have a lot of chicken and Rotis(Indian breads) to go with it. His eating and drinking capacity was more than usual.
Tonight, he selected a cot in the corner and sat with his legs folded on it. On the other side of the slab, he signaled Bhola to have a seat. He then shouted for the bearer. In these types of joints, the bearers are normally teenager guys wearing a pant or a lungi with a colored vest and a towel on their shoulders and invariably they are called 'Chhotu'. So, our Chhotu came running towards him and stood near by. Taaran Singh casually asked him 'How are you doing'. The guy, rather pleased by this , replied 'all well'.
Taaran Singh then inquired about 'Bhagat' who was like the head chef of this joint; 'Cant see Bhagat Singh anywhere?'.
Chhotu replied 'He has got some problems back home so he is away for last few days, but we are expecting him tomorrow or so'.
'What problems?'
'Seems his mother is very ill and his wife is also expecting very soon; so she cant help much either'.
'Oh so the poor lad is now cooking at his home, rather than here; eh?'
Most of the people working in such places belonged to distant villages who came to the cities to earn a living. They didn't have any particular talent or specialty to be precise, but in due course developed something to earn their bread and also to send some money back home. Bhagat Singh belonged to some village in UP near Lucknow. He had come to Delhi some ten years back and after working as a bearer in one of such joints, finally laid his hands in cooking.Much to everyone's amazement, he turned out to be a good cook. As Taaran Singh was one of the regular customers of this joint and liked to chat a lot, he had been friends with Bhagat for quite some time. At times; after the long boozing sessions of Taaran Singh, when the night wasn't young anymore and most of the customers were either drunk or had left; both would sit and talk about their respective villages. Taaran Singh used to joke about Bhagat's 'Singh' surname claiming only the people from Punjab were the real Singhs; 'how come a person from UP be a Singh; you are a fake one' he would say. Today,he felt bad for Bhagat's condition .Nevertheless , he ordered some Chicken fresh from the Tandoor and chilled beer.
Bhola, in the meanwhile had lighted a 'Beedi' - an Indian invention of ancient times; close to cigarettes and made of tobacco leaves. Taaran Singh was not the one for smoking, it probably had some religious reasons, but then one could not be sure. There was a Bollywood number being played in the Dhaba and Bhola had started humming to the tune. Though he was only sixteen and in India, this was an illegal age for drinking; nobody really bothered about the law in such places. Bhola had already been baptized and Taaran Singh was sure very soon he would pose him a challenge in terms of the ability to drink; it was just a matter of time. Beer arrived and the bearer asked Taaran Singh to check whether it was chilled enough for him. Taaran Singh touched the bottle and gave him a nod. He was getting restless for the first drop to go down his stomach. A bottle opener was something rare in this place and there would usually be one or two, lying with the group which used it last. The bearer would usually get the opener if a customer requested. Most of them , however didn't usually bother and used their teeth to accomplish this task. Some even thought it as a sign of strength and a heroic act. Taaran Singh had never used one from the time he could remember. He opened the beer for himself and Bhola followed suit. Taaran Singh gulped quite a lot in the first go and then wiped his mouth from the back of his hand making a sound of satisfaction. Then he stared around and tried to find partners. He considered Bhola as his younger brother and cared for him , but did't find him mature enough to be a part of the discussions he used to have after getting drunk.
On the left side a few yards away, there was a group of young guys; all in casuals ; chattering loudly in Haryana style Hindi. They seemed to be pretty drunk already and quite angry over some dispute over land and had a lot of swear words to their use for a certain 'Yadav'. On the other side, Taaran Singh noticed two middle aged men sitting across each other; talking seriously over some matter. They probably belonged to the locality and had come here to have a few drinks as they couldn't do so in front of their kids at home. Then he noticed some guys sitting in the corner cot. They looked like some local goons, all dressed in white sherwanis. They were probably men working for one of the local Mafias and were on their way to the nearby city when they stopped over for dinner. They looked like they wanted to lay low and avoid trouble at this hour. Taaran Singh noticed a big SUV standing just outside the Dhaba and guessed it was theirs. He looked inside the Dhaba where there were some tables. He saw a couple romancing there. Both the guy and the girl were sitting on the same side of the table and flirting with each other. The girl was surely a pick-up and they would soon head to where they should. Well; thought Taaran Singh; there was unfortunately no one here today whom he knew,Bad luck. Bhola's eyes were however stuck on the girl. He probably wanted to try his luck too. Taaran Singh signaled the Dhaba guy for another beer; while constantly munching on the chicken.
Taaran Singh was half way through his third bottle when he saw some cops stopping by in their motorbikes at the entrance of the dhabba. Cops were usual in such places since these were mostly illegal joints. Even if they had the permit for the land they were located upon, they wouldnt have that for the liquor they used to sell. The cops usually visited to collect their weekly quota of bribe. But, from the look of things, Taaran Singh thought, this was different. Their body language suggested that they meant business today. There were six of them. Four headed towards the cashier where as the other two decided to stay around the lawn. The cops inquired something or about somebody with the cashier. From this distance, Taaran Singh could not be sure what about. One of the men from the SUV group gestured in a 'Hi' towards the cops roaming in the lawn and asked what was the matter.The policeman who would be probably a constable , replying to his gesture with folded hands; told him that the young college-going son of a local businessman had been kidnapped and hence there was police all around searching for leads. Taaran Singh was well aware of such cases as it was quite usual in these areas. There were a lot of rowdy groups in the surrounding villages who indulged in such crimes. It was quick money. They seldom had to kill as most of the businessmen would readily expense with a few millions to save their child's life. It had become a norm and some said even police was involved in these crimes and though they were well aware of the culprits ; they never really did anything apart from taking their share. The businessmen also did not protest as they had a lot of black money themselves and once they had paid the ransom, they felt safe for a long time.
However, this time the body language of the cops suggested it was serious business. The constable went on to tell the guy in white sherwani that the kidnapped boy also happened to be a distant nephew of someone powerful in the Delhi cabinet ministry and hence this time something had to be done. Taaran Singh was hearing all this and he thought the kidnappers crossed the line unknowingly this time and had landed themselves in trouble.
Meanwhile, the cashier seemed to be making some calls and in a few minutes another white SUV came by and some young guys who looked like locals came out and walked towards the guys in sherwanis. All of them greeted each other and the inspector and constable joined them. The guys in Sherwanis looked like seniors to the newly arrived group and the latter seemed to look up to them for advice. Soon, a heated discussion started . The cops were insisting that the boy must be released now else the matter could get very serious. Taaran Singh got the idea that the police was indeed involved in this and what he had thought earlier was not entirely wrong. The discussion grew intense and the second group seemed to be actually the ones responsible for the kidnapping. They had the boy but they were not ready to release him for free. The head of the sherwani group wanted to convince them but it seemed in vain.Their idea was to release this boy now and they could get the required money from some other businessman in some days. The younger kidnapper group, though; was paying respect to the elder sherwani group; but they didn't want to let their prey get free for nothing, however they were ready for a lesser ransom money. The cops were against this idea and were of the opinion that it was too risky and if anyone got the wind that they were involved too then it would be massacre.
Taaran Singh thought it was getting dirty. He looked around and saw that most of the other customers had already left. He was sure no one would say a word about this since they did not want to mess up with these guys. Taaran Singh was scared a bit himself, but if he had to leave; he would have to cross these guys to reach his lorry; hence he decided to stay. He saw Bhola's face and it looked like he could wet his pants anytime. None of those people seemed to have noticed Taaran Singh and Bhola and probably dismissed the two of them as the workers of the Dhaba.
One of sherwani group members proposed that the kidnapped guy should be given a treatment first so that he does not open his mouth and their whereabouts is not disclosed. The kidnapper group was even suggesting by now that the boy should be killed. They did not want to risk their business in case anyone got to ever know them and their whereabouts. They had not faced such a situation before. There was so much of confusion and everyone of them was already drunk. Nobody knew what to do. The cops just wanted the guy handed over to them right now and assured that it will be their guarantee that the boy does not open his mouth. They feared that more force could come from Delhi and then even they wouldn't be able to help and the matter would be beyond their control.
Suddenly, The head of the Sherwani group noticed Taaran Singh staring at them. 'Who's that?' he asked. Everyone just stopped shouting and all eyes were on Taaran Singh. The cashier replied that he was a truck driver who often came by for a booze. The Sherwani group leader said he had an idea. He came towards Taaran Singh and the rest of them followed. He rested a hand on Taaran Singh's shoulders. Though Taaran Singh was a strong man , he found himself inches shorter and kilos lighter than this well built strong man. The guy made Taaran Singh sit on the charpoy and started with his idea.
He said, 'Look guys!! The situation is critical. We can't handover the guy to these cops as that would suggest that the kidnappers were from this community. We can't risk taking the guy to the border ourselves since there would be checkpoints. We can't certainly kill the guy since that would mean laying low and not earning anything much for next few months. So I think what we can do is we can keep the guy in the Lorry of Taaran Singh here and he can do us a favor by dropping him somewhere near the border. Since its a lorry, nobody would question him and there has to be a lot of space for hiding a senseless guy in the lorry anyway. In return, what we will do is ; we will keep his friend Bhola enjoying with us here and will make sure he is safe till Taaran Singh is back.'
Taaran Singh was in a big soup now.He knew arguing with them would yield no results. They had already made up their mind. They would have Bhola in their custody till Taaran Singh is back. If he accepted and the border cops checked his lorry and found the kidnapped guy in ; he would be declared the kidnapper and would go to jail. If he refused , he could be killed. If he ran away with the guy, Bhola would be killed. He started remembering his Gods. He found no way out of this and cursed himself for visiting this place tonight.
***
