"Saab ji, who Kalsara vaali aasmi go, went, gone hai ji", a shivering Sikander delivered the bad news to his big boss: Bittuji.
(Sir, the delegates from Kalsara are now out of reach).
The boss was not very pleased but, seeing his son around, there was nothing much he could do. Bittuji had a strict policy not to display violence in front of Rishabh. So, Sikander's deal would be cut behind closed doors, at another time. This hour, however, was reserved to show off his generosity to the son experiencing great culture shock.
"Bakre ki maa kab tak, kab tak, kab tak khair manayegi? Jane do chote, kabhi toh baari aayegi".
(The sacrificial lamb only has so much luck. Our day will come soon).
"Wah, wah Sarkar", the minions chanted in one voice. RK was confused, at best, with the long stretch of hierarchy in his father's Neanderthal ways of governance. No wonder his mother had kept him in Mumbai for so long. The man was clinically insane.
Who uses their smartphone as a back scratcher and then expects another person to touch it?
"Eww, no dad. I am not feeling your dead skin cells".
Rishabh repulsed by the thought of making a call using the phone that had been places.
"Do you want to take over business or not? This is how things go around here. You have got to make extortion calls to the target. The woman borrowed money and never gave it back. You tell her".
Now, his mother's warnings were becoming all too clear. He so wished he had not played Mad World on full volume when she delivered those long speeches. So, his father was a mobster. And he was expected to carry on with the tradition. Not that he had a giant moral compass but, this is was too outrageous a career choice. He would rather stick to online hacking. His only weakness was money and his dad pressed the right buttons.
"Just this one call. If you can get the girl to come down, the cash is all yours. Otherwise, not a penny in your name".
Sounded like a good deal at the time so, he shook hands with his father. (Wonder where the hygiene concern went that time). In the name of Big Lord, he dialled the number.
"Haalo, kaun?"
"Tumhara baap"
"Mera baap toh khet mein ghehoon bheej riya eh. Tume kyun shaun pada mujhe beti banane ka?"
(My father is working in the farm. Why are you so eager to call me your daughter?)
"Bhai lent you a ton of cash. The pay period is over, get the money now or else".
She hung up before Rishabh could act out his Haywire school play ending. He stared at his father with a "now what" lingering in the air.
"Utha ke la chori ne".
(Go kidnap the girl).
He was dumbfounded. A computer programmer by profession, he had never thought of abducting women in his wildest dreams. Couldn't he just toss a salad or make chai instead? That is what his mother told him Baapu did for twenty five years before Kukku Bhatia spilled the beans. If only he had listened to her gruesome stories of Bittuji's Chamkila gang terror.
Now, he was christened into the business or as they called it "dhande ki line". He had to follow through. So, he climbed up a terrace: chloroform covered handkerchief in hand, wearing a confident smile. Everything was going according to plan until his supporting goons disappeared in thin air.
"Kahaan gaye ullu ke patho?"
(Where the hell did you idiots disappear to?)
"Looking for these?" a young woman dragged the now unconscious men by their collars. A second later, RK was knocked down on the ground. Twelve hours later, he was back in the Chamika Den. Only, the mood and atmosphere was entirely different. His father was grieving? What went down during his memory lapse that made everyone so hysterical?
"What have you done? You good for nothing, face stuffer? You money eating, no working, unfit for gangster giri, flimy baabu!"
His father threw fire balls from every direction.
"I told you to abduct the woman, not marry her".
Rishabh's eyes almost popped eyes out of his sockets.
The girl who had almost knocked him dead was twirling around in a bridal lehnga.
"Main Madhubala, aapki biwi".
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