CHAPTER 9
OF FRIENDS AND FAMILY
“Yeh Karan Sir insaan nahi, shaitaan hain”, Suman ji moaned. “Itna saara homework.”
“#Hitler ke descendant”, Chitra agreed.
Sid heaved a sigh. He pulled out his new headphones from his bag, wearing them and picking up the book again. The other cadets paused in their complaining, looking at him wordlessly.
“Good idea”, Koel muttered, picking up her book again. “Padh hi lete hain.”
“#Correct”, Chitra said, picking her own up.
Silence fell as the cadets started reading diligently again, the only sound that of the faint music from Sid’s headphones and occasionally, the scratching of the pen as they jotted down notes.
“Bahaane nahi chahiye mujhe”, Karan hissed into the phone. “Academy ki security tight honi chahiye. Bina tumhaari jaankari ke ek patta bhi andar nahi aana chahiye. Samjhe?”
“Yes, Sir. Jai Hind, Sir!”
He heaved a sigh, pushing the door open to the mess. He almost faltered in his walk. Foxtrot was sitting in a corner, attention on their books. He smiled slightly. ‘Chalo. At least, kuchh cadets toh dhang se train kar rahe hain.’ He tilted his head. ‘Monami kahan hai? Inke saath kyun nahi hai?’
“Ji, Sir?” Pawan said. He looked at the kitchen helper. What did he come here for again?
“Do coffee, mere room mein, please”, he said.
“Ji, Sir”, he said.
Karan spared the cadets another glance before walking out.
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
Knock Knock.
Koel looked up from the book. Faizi? Her eyebrows furrowed.
“Sir?”
He smiled, walking in. “Hi. Tumhaari roommate kahan hai?”
“Unke ghar se phone aaya tha.”
He nodded. “Hum soch rahe the ki aaj Saturday hai, half day hai, toh...”
She raised an eyebrow. “Toh?”
“Tumne humaare liye khaana banaaya. Hume bhi return gift toh dena hi chahiye.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Aap khaana banayenge?”
He blinked, shaking his head. “Nahi. Bilkul nahi. Hume tumhaara shukriya ada karna hai. Tumhe maarna nahi hai. Hum kitchen se door hi theek hain.” She chuckled. He nodded to the door. “Chalo humaare saath. Hume ek bahut achha restaurant pata hai.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
He laughed. “Puchh toh nahi rahe the par agar haan hai, toh hume koi problem nahi hai.”
She smiled. “Uske liye thodi si aur mehnat karni padegi. Abhi ke liye, return gift hi de dijiye.”
“Chalo phir. Hum usi mein khush rehte hain.”
“Thodi der toh do taiyaar hone ke liye. Chalo, niklo. Main 15 minute mein aapko academy ke gate par milti hoon.” She pushed him out of the room before he could protest, locking the door.
Faizi smiled, shaking his head. He pulled his phone out. Kahan ho tum, Karan? Busy ho kya?
His reply was almost instant. Kamre mein hi hoon. Kya hua? Kuchh kaam hai kya?
He pocketed his phone, turning to the corridor and sprinting to his room. He opened the door. Karan looked up from his laptop, flicking his eyebrows up. “Kya hua? Sab theek?”
“Theek nahi, bahut achha hai, Janaab”, he said, grinning. “Hum aur Koel bahar jaa rahe hain.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Date? Usne tere saath date par jaane ke liye haan kar di? Mental examination ki zaroorat hai use.”
“Karan! Humaari khushi naa tumse dekhi hi nahi jaati. Hum tumhe aage se kuchh nahi bataaya karenge.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Achha, bol. Date hai?”
“Date nahi hai. Usne humaare liye khaana banaaya tha, na? Toh-”
“Haan, wo hi khaana jo tune mujhe dhang se khaane nahi diya tha.” Faizi scowled at him. “Continue.”
“Toh hum usko thank you bolne ke liye bahar lekar jaa rahe hain. Abhi.”
He nodded. “8 baje se pehle aa jaana, warna Koel ko punishment milegi. Tere thank you gift ke chakkar mein rules nahi tootne chahiye.” He held up a finger when Faizi opened his mouth. “No exceptions. 8 baje, academy mein.” Faizi grumbled. Karan rolled his eyes. “Late nahi ho raha tu?”
“Oh haan. Bye”, he said.
Karan chuckled when he dashed out.
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
“Kaafi achhi jagah hai. How did you even find it?” Koel asked, chuckling. “Aisa lag raha hai chhupa kar rakhi hai.”
Faizi grinned. “Karan mujhe yahan lekar aaya tha. Wo bachpan se Deolali mein raha hai, toh use yahan ki har jagah ke baare mein pata hota hai.”
“Karan Sir hang out bhi karte hain? I thought unko sirf kaam karna aata hai.”
He laughed. “Tum logon ko lagta hai Karan insaan hi nahi hai. Uske seene mein bhi dil hai, mahutarma, bas dhadakta thoda sa kam hai. Logon ki bahut kadar karta hai wo.”
She tilted her head. “Phir dikhaate kyun nahi?”
“Karan hamesha se hi thoda reserved raha hai. Kabhi bhi social nahi tha. Par agar usne kisi ko apna maan liya, na, toh duniya jahan se lad jayega unke liye. Wo apni feelings bolta nahi hai, par hume phir bhi sun jaanti hai.” He smiled slightly, tracing the rim of the cup.
She nodded slowly. “He’s a layered man”, she said, and Faizi nodded.
“Aap Karan ko chodiye, aap hume Nikhil ke baare mein bataiye.”
She smiled instantly. “Nikhil 8 saal ka hai. And he’s a handful. Kabhi tik kar baithta hi nahi. Hamesha idhar se udhar se phudakta rehta hai. Maine toh uska nickname hi mendhak rakh diya aur wo badle mein mujhe mendhaki bulaata hai.”
Faizi laughed. “Mendhaki? Sach mein?”
“Haan. Use nicknames dene ka bahut shauk hai.”
“Tumhaare phone mein toh uski photo hogi hi, right? Kal jab tum cadets ko phone milega, hume uski photo zaroor dikhaana.”
She raised her eyebrows, a small smile playing on her lips. “Hum kal bhi milenge?”
He smiled. “Kyun? Nahi milna?”
“I don’t know. Har roz kyun milna hai?”
“Kyunki hum tumhe apna dost maante hain aur tumse milna hume achha lagta hai”, he confessed. She blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Tumhe nahi lagta?”
She sipped her coffee. “Kal... cadets ke saath main bahar jaa rahi hoon. Jab hum sab waapas aayenge, agar aap free hoge, toh...same spot?”
He grinned. “Hum intezaar karenge.”
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
Sid ran a thumb over the case of his phone in thought. He stared at everyone who paced around as they talked excitedly on their phones to their family.
He unlocked it, searching through his contacts. His thumb hovered the call button. He heaved a sigh, pressing it. He held the phone to his ear, hearing it ring.
“Hello?”
He perked up. A smile spread on his face. “Daddy ji. Hi! Aaj Sunday hai, na? Toh phones waapas mile hain. I thought aapko call karoon.”
“Sid, meri abhi ek important meeting hai. Main abhi baat nahi kar sakta. Baad mein call karta hoon. Bye.”
His smile faded. “Bye.” He lowered the phone, staring at the dropped call. He locked the screen again, shaking his head. He closed his eyes. Three seconds of feeling bad.
One. He was busy.
Two. He never had time for him and he never will. It’s a fact.
Three. He had Monami. He had his family. He had learned to live without his Dad. He didn’t need him.
He opened his eyes, forcing a smile on his face. He hopped to his feet. Everyone glanced at him. “Monu”, he explained, before moving out of the mess where everyone had gathered. It was becoming their favorite spot in the academy lately.
The phone in his pocket was a sinking weight. His Dad wasn’t a bad father. Did that make things worse? Perhaps. It certainly made him miss him more. Their moments together were rare but he felt the love his Dad had from him.
He had always been good at that. Feeling. Love, pain, happiness, sadness, anger. He could feel what others had in their hearts before it came to their lips.
His Dad loved him.
Why didn’t he make time for him then? Just a few minutes? Just a few words?
Monami was his family.
But so was his Dad.
He didn’t need him. But he wanted him.
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
“Aur sun”, Sid said. “Poora time padhti mat rehna. Thoda relax bhi karna. Chaahe toh aalsi billi ki tarah bed par padhi rehna. Okay, Moti Billi?”
Monami hit his arm. “Maine tujhe kitni baar kaha hai mujhe Moti Billi mat kaha kar.”
“Bahut baar”, he said. “Koi bhi problem ho, mujhe call kar lena.”
“Sid, tu kuchh ghante ke liye jaa raha hai. Main khud manage kar sakti hoon.”
“Haan, pata hai. Aur sun, koi tang kare, na, roar karke ke dikhaana, okay? Meow mat karna. Roar karna. Moti sherni banna hai, moti billi nahi rehna hai.”
She glared at him. “Tujhe roar karke nahi, seedha kaat ke dikhaungi. Chal, jaa! Nikal!”
He chuckled. He kissed her head. “Bye.” He patted her cheek before running out of the room.
She shook her head. She grabbed her phone, smiling slightly. ‘Papa ko call karti hoon. Shayad miss kar rahe honge.’ Her smile faded. ‘Kar rahe honge, na?’ She sighed a little. ‘Call toh kar hi leti hoon. Shayad Papa ko achha lage.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘Bahar hawaa bhi chal rahi hai. Upar terrace par jaati hoon, call karti hoon, achha lagega.’
She crossed her legs, sitting down on the floor of the terrace a couple minutes later. She listened to the phone ring, a small smile on her face.
“Hello?”
“Hi, P-Papa.”
“Monami. Ho gaya tumhaara shauk poora? Chalo, time batao. Kab waapas aa rahi ho? Main driver ko bol deta hoon.”
Her smile faded. “Main... main w-waapas n-nahi aa rahi. Aaj S-Sunday hai. Ph-Phones m-mile hain, isliye aa-aap se b-baat k-karne ke liye c-call kara hai.”
“Tum waapas nahi aa rahi?" He sighed. "Kya baat karni hai tumhe? Jab main kuchh bolta hoon, wo toh tum sunti nahi ho. Toh tumse baat karne ka kya faida? Main keh raha hoon time waste kar rahi ho, medicine practice karne par dhyaan do, par nahi, tumhe toh sunni hi nahi hai kisi ki.”
“Par Papa, m-main-”
“Par kya, Monami?” He sighed. “I really don’t know tum kya soch rahi ho. Aisa lag raha hai tum kuchh soch hi nahi rahi ho. Maine hi tumhe zyaada chhoot de rakhi hai, bilkul bigadh gayi ho tum. Sunti hi nahi ho.” He clicked his tongue. “Kitni baar samjhaaya hai ki yeh military, yeh training, it’s not for you, baccha. Yeh tumhaare liye nahi hai.”
Tears stung her eyes. She took a deep breath. “M-Main...m-main aapse b-baad mein b-baat k-karti hoon.”
“Kyun? Kya hua? Sunna nahi chahti? Pehle sirf meri baat unsuni karti thi, aur ab, sunna bhi nahi chahti.”
“L-L-Later, Papa. S-Sorry. Par k-kaam aa g-gaya. Th-Thodi der mein c-call k-karti hoon. B-Bye.” She disconnected the call. She kept the phone aside, sniffling.
‘Papa ne yeh bhi nahi puchha main kaisi hoon’, she thought. Tears blurred her vision and she let them fall, sobs racking her body. ‘Wo mujhse baat bhi nahi karna chahte.’
“Monami?”
She wiped her tears, looking up. Faizi.
“Kya hua? Ro kyun rahi ho?” He walked closer. He sat down in front of her, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
She shook her head. “K-Kuchh n-nahi.”
“Mahutarma, aap itna tab ro rahi hai jab kuchh nahi hua? Jab kuchh hoga, tab toh aap Tsunami hi le aayengi”, he joked. “Tsunami naam rakh dein aapka hum? Monami Tsunami?”
She cracked a smile. She fidgeted with her phone, lightly tracing it over. Faizi’s gaze dropped to it. He tilted his head slightly, eyeing it. His gaze flickered up to her.
“Nahi bataana, koi baat nahi. Personal hoga. Problem nahi bataogi toh hum solution toh de nahi sakte. Par humaare paas aapka mood theek karne ke liye ek plan hai”, he said.
He stood up, holding his hand out and gesturing her up. She looked up at him, tilting her head to the side. She stood up. “Sir, aa-aapko m-mere saath t-time w-waste karne ki z-zaroorat n-nahi hai. I am f-fine.”
He clicked his tongue. “Tum itna stress mat lo, aur chalo.”
10 minutes later, Monami was staring at a gun on the table. She had never researched too much on guns and weapons and all she knew about the gun in front of her was that it was a pistol.
“Jab cadets ko nayi nayi guns milti hai, na, toh sab excited hote hain”, Faizi said, sitting across her on the other side of the table. She looked up, offering him a bright smile. She was excited too. He chuckled. “Guns handle karte hue, sirf shoot karna, aim karna seekhna zaroori nahi hota. Aapko apna weapon bahut achhe se pata hona chahiye.” He picked up the gun. “Tumhe iss gun ka naam pata hai?”
“I k-know it’s a p-pistol”, she offered.
He hummed, nodding. “It’s called a Glock. Precise hona hai, toh Glock G19 Gen5 9mm semiautomatic pistol. Tumhe semiautomatic or automatic gun ka difference pata hai?”
She nodded. “S-Semiautomatic g-guns mein ek b-baar trigger d-dabaane se ek b-bullet r-release hoti hai aur n-next b-bullet ch-chamber mein l-load ho j-jaati hai. A-Automatic mein j-jab tak aap tr-trigger par se f-finger nahi h-hataate, b-bullets r-release h-hoti rehti hain.”
“Good.” He spun the gun around, gesturing for her. She hesitated. “Don’t worry. Loaded nahi hai.”
She grasped it, holding it the way she remembered him holding. He leaned forward, gently prying her finger from the trigger and placing it at the side.
“Agar intent naa ho shoot karne ka, toh kabhi bhi trigger par finger nahi rakhni chahiye. Trigger par finger sirf tab rakho jab shoot karna ho, warna accidental firing ke chances badh jaate hain.” He tapped the finger that was resting along the length of the gun. “Baaki time, yahan par. Okay?”
She nodded. He held out his hand, and she handed him the gun back.
“Abhi tum logon ko guns dene mein time hai. Par jab milengi, toh sabse pehle tumhe guns load karna, unload karna, disassemble karna, assemble karna aur clean karna sikhaaya jaayega. Shoot karna is the last step. Waise toh bahut different types ki guns use hoti hain, par usually, humaare kaam mein handguns are the most effective. Phir bhi, tumhe baaki guns bhi shoot karni sikhaayi jayengi. Shooting a handgun is very different than shooting a shotgun.”
She nodded in understanding.
He leaned forward. “Ab dekho. Main tumhe yeh disassemble aur assemble karna sikhaata hoon. Phir tum try karna.”
She gave him a big smile, nodding. “Sir? Th-Thank you.”
He patted her head affectionately, smiling at her. He nodded to the gun and she leaned forward, watching him carefully as he disassembled the gun, telling her about the different parts as he did so.
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
“No, no, no”, Sid said, shaking his head.
“Arey, Sid, try toh kar”, Koel said, holding it to his mouth. “Gol gappe hain. Iske bina toh kaise raha hai?”
He shook his head. “I don’t do street food.”
“Tu use chod, Koel”, Suman ji said. “Tu khaa le.”
“Yeah. Main chala shopping karne”, Sid said. “Mera room bahut empty hai. I want to decorate it. Bala G bro, you coming?”
“Chalo, Bhai ji”, he said happily.
“#Me too”, Chitra said excitedly.
“Suman ji ko toh chain se thoosna hai”, Suman ji said. “Academy ka boring khaana khaakar Suman ji bahut tang aa chuki hain.”
Sid chuckled. He pulled Bala and Chitra into a shop, and the three roamed around the fairly big place, looking for anything to decorate their room with. His gaze fell on a little figurine. It was of a girl with boxing gloves on.
‘Hume, na, bachpan se logon ko peetne mein batero mazaa aato tha. Humaare gaon mein jab bhi koi ladka kisi bhi ladki ko tang karto tha, wo sab humaare paas aato thi, aur hum achhe se unki chutney bana deto the.’
He smiled slightly. “Excuse me?” He said.
“Yes, sir?” The sales girl said, smiling politely at him.
He pointed to the figurine. “I want this, please.”
“Sure, Sir. Anything else?”
“Abhi ke liye, yeh hi. But I am looking.”
“Sid Bhai ji”, Bala called, running over to him. He was holding a little transparent bottle with some swirling blue thing inside. Sid wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but it was pretty. “Kitna sundar hai, na? Table par kitna achha lagega.” He turned it over. His smile dropped.
“Kya hua?”
“Bhai ji, yeh toh bahut mehenga hai. Itne paise nahi hai mere paas.”
Sid slung an arm over his shoulder. “Arey, Bala G bro. Tu paison ki chinta mat kar. Tujhe jo chahiye, tu wo le.”
He shook his head. “Bhai ji, main aise free mein kaise le sakta hoon. Aapko paise nahi waapas kar paunga.”
“Free mein de kaun raha hai? Agle poore hafte, raat ko tu light band karega. Even? Ab jaa, dekh, kuchh aur pasand aa raha hai kya tujhe?” He took the little bottle from him, placing it on the counter. He smiled at the sales girl. “Yeh bhi uss figurine ke saath rakh dijiye, please.”
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
“Chachu!” A voice screamed happily.
A mass hit his legs, hugging him tightly. Karan grinned, bending down and kissing her head. “Mera baccha”, he muttered. He picked her up in his arms, kissing her cheek.
“Commando itna late kyun?” Baby asked, crossing her arms. “Main kab se wait kar rahi hoon aapka.”
“Academy mein thoda kaam tha, baccha”, he said. “Isliye late ho gaya.”
“Baby toh subah 6 baje uth gayi aur poore ghar mein uchhal rahi hai tumhaara wait karte hue”, Bhabhi said, walking in. He kept Baby down, bending down and touching her feet. She smiled at him. “Aao, maine tumhaare liye pancakes banaaye hain. Sab tumhaara hi wait kar rahe the.”
He smiled. Baby held out her hands, and he picked her up again, walking further into the house.
His steps faltered a little. His brother was sitting in his wheelchair, setting the plates up. His gaze trailed down to his legs, tracing over his prosthetics, before he looked away.
‘Isse achha toh mar hi jaata! Kam se kam log yeh toh kehte Param Shergill shaheed hua hai. Poori zindagi desh ki seva karna chahta tha ya desh ke liye mar mit jaana chahta tha, par...’
His hand hovered his brother’s shoulder as he broke into sobs. He looked at his amputated legs, tears stinging his own eyes.
6 years.
And yet, the first memory that sprang to his mind was his brother crying over his fate, wishing he was dead instead. He took a deep breath, pushing the memory away. It’s been 6 years. Accept and move on. That’s what he needed to do. Like his brother had.
Param looked up, smiling. “Karan, itna busy ho gaya ki Deolali reh raha hai par milne ka time nahi mila?”
Karan smiled, shrugging. “Sorry, Bhaiya. Bahut kaam hai.” He kept Baby down again, helping to set the table up. He sat down, and Baby hopped in his lap.
“Baby, apni jagah par baitho”, Barkha scolded.
“Nahi, main Chachu ke saath khaungi.”
“Baby, zidd nahi karte.”
“Bhabhi, koi baat nahi”, Karan said. He smiled at Baby. “Mere saath kha legi. Is mein kya hai? Hai, na, Baby?”
“Yay!”
Param shook his head. “Tune hi bigadh kar rakha hai ise.”
“Ek hi toh bhatiji hai meri. Ab ise nahi bigadhunga toh kise bigadhunga?”
“Apne bacchon ko”, he retorted. "Main dhoond deta hoon ladki. Tu bas haan kar."
Karan glared at him. “Bhaiya! Kahin bhi kuchh bhi shuru ho jaate ho. Main chala jaunga.”
“Bas, bas”, Barkha said. “Khaane toh do use chain se.” She smiled at him, placing some on his plate.
“Isne Baby ko bighad rakha hai aur tumne ise”, Param said.
Barkha shook her head in exasperation. “Itne time baad aaya aur aate hi shuru ho jao tum. Karan, yeh tang karein tumhe toh aa jaana mere paas.”
Param glared at them. “Tum dono milkarmujhe tang kar dete ho. Main kise complain karoon?”
Karan chuckled.
---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---
“Yeh meri favorite ma’am ke liye- Rashmi ma’am”, Baby said, holding up a plastic rose. The two had retreated to Baby’s room, and she was diligently updating him on all the little changes in her life since he had visited the last time.
Karan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Aapki favorite ma’am toh... kya naam tha... Seema ma’am. Wo nahi the?”
Baby shook her head. “Ab mujhe wo bilkul achhe nahi lagte. Wo ab mere favorite teacher nahi hai.”
“Kyun?”
“Humaari class mein ek ladka hai, usne window todh di. Seema ma’am bahut gussa hui. Aur poori class ko punish kara diya. Punishment toh usi ko milni chahiye, jisne galti kari, na? Baaki kisi ko milna toh fair nahi hai. Hai, na, Chachu?”
He hummed. “Haan.”
‘Ameerzaadi hai. Papa ki Pari types.’
‘Raani Sahiba aam insaanon ke saath kaise baith sakti hain.’
‘Wo ek spoiled, privileged kid hai jise lagta hai wo hum normal logon se bahut upar hai.’
He smiled at Baby when she showed him a drawing she had made, pointing and explaining it. His mind wandered back to Monami.
‘Kya maine use bina galti ke judge kar liya hai? Kya wo sach mein unn spoiled brats ki tarah nahi hai jinki wajah se Bhaiya...’
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