Chapter 12:
Imran hesitated and his knuckles stopped a centimeter away from the door, avoiding the knock. He took a deep breath and shook off the weariness that was draining him with every passing second. He knocked on the door after half a minute of deliberation. After hearing a faint 'come in', he opened the door and walked inside Rathore's study.
Rathore looked as if he was aged by ten years in a matter of week. It wasn't the scandal that made him be this way but the arrest of Dhananjay had really hit the old man hard. He had invested an entire lifetime to build a foundation to ensure his legacy prevailed but Dhananjay never became the son he wanted while Bhanu Pratap shared a complicated father-son relationship. His thoughts turned to Arnav who was now missing for an entire week and Khushi who was probably the closest thing he had for a daughter. Bhanu Pratap's disinterest in politics and the way he held his family name had actually hit Rathore very hard and after that he had parked his hopes aside. But then Arnav had come in and had rekindled his hopes when Arnav promised him to bring around Dhananjay. But now…he just felt tired.
"How is Dhananjay doing now?" Rathore asked Imran.
"He is detained in central jail and tomorrow he will be transferred. He will be in maximum security prison," Imran said gently. "Shukla has made arrangements to ensure his safety and comfort. A band of bodyguards are transferred from other prisons will be his cellmates." He said.
"How could it have happened so fast Imran? Someone worked really hard to prosecute Dhananjay within five days," Rathore commented.
"Actually sir, protocol was followed everywhere. Police and prosecution were given powers and the DNA testing was expedited. Besides, Dhananjay confessed the whole thing during interrogation," Imran said.
Dhananjay's confession had come as a shock to everyone. He was picked up for routine interrogation and DNA sample by assistant to prosecutor, ACP and a sub-inspector. It had all gone wrong when ACP started her interrogation.
ACP Malvika Singh aged thirty five was a tough and an extremely intelligent woman. The routine interrogation had turned into a nightmare when she found out exactly which buttons to push. In forty minutes, Dhananjay was ignoring the warnings of his lawyer and telling Malvika exactly what he did to the woman that night. Malvika had continued to rile and taunt him fuelling his rage which had him completely undone. He was detained on spot when he slapped Malvika hard and punched her couple of times. She had taken the beating and smiled maniacally all the while he hit her. Dhananjay's lawyer had tried hard to hold back his client but in vain. Three minutes later the entire police staff had come inside and dragged Dhananjay away.
Only then the lawyer had realized that it was a brilliant plan executed with equal smartness. He stared at the lithe woman who was pressing hot tea mug to her cheek as it turned purple with every minute – the place where Dhananjay punched her. She wore her bruises like medals and the dried blood stain proudly reflected her attitude.
She spoke with politeness and respect when Vikramaditya Rathore made a hurried entrance to the police station in the wake of his son's arrest. The newly appointed lawyer had disappointed him but his son's wayward ways had disappointed him more. But now wasn't the time to deliberate on that topic.
"Dhananjay Rathore will be presented in court tomorrow sir." Malvika Singh told Rathore. "He has given a confession and attacked an officer - me, during interrogation. He will be detained in this station today."
"I am posting a bail to release him to my custody for the night. He will be at court tomorrow," Rathore said more like a father than a politician.
"He stopped being innocent citizen two hours ago sir. Now he is a convicted rapist. It's a non-bailable warrant and we are way past delaying processes. Dhananjay's previous lawyer made our lives miserable by slapping unnecessary bureaucratic bullshit on our heads via our supervisors. As a police officer I shouldn't be saying this but I am really glad that Khushi Gupta is out of the picture. "
Vikramaditya Rathore sat silently in front of ACP Malvika Singh for handful of moments. He walked out of the police station wordlessly and allowed the tears to come when he walked into Dhananjay's room. It was the first time in his life when he failed to protect his son. There was nothing he could do anymore to protect him from going to prison.
"Sir?" Imran's voice brought him back to present.
"What is going on in the party Imran?" Rathore asked. Whispers of a group trying to outcast major political players in country were getting louder and louder. Cases were filed against more than hundred and sixty politicians, law enforcement officers, diplomats, bureaucrats now for misusing authority, corruption, threatening and indemnity, misusing law for personal purposes, illegal procurement of firearms, supply of subpar quality of drugs, food, clothing, residences and healthcare; but above all the junta was cheated.
"Eight of them met two days ago in a hotel at the capital. The proceedings of the meeting were confidential."
"But you know what went on there, don't you?" Rathore asked pouring single malt.
"There is a new possibility – formation of a new party," Imran replied. Rathore's hand stilled and panic struck his heart.
"They weren't the only eight in that meeting sir," Imran said taking a A4 sized photograph from one of the files he was carrying. He slid the photo on the table and watched Rathore's reaction. Like expected, Rathore paled.
"Nineteen other meetings of this variety have happened for past two days all around the capital. Total number of people attending that meeting is approximately five hundred and fifty." Imran said.
It took only three seconds for Rathore to understand the significance of the number.
It took five hundred and fifty two members to constitute parliament – Lok Sabha.
Someone was trying to build a new government.
*****
"You seem…content." Arnav said sitting next to Khushi who had her feet dipped in the shallow stream that ran across the compound.
"I haven't thought about going back since morning. We have been here for seven days and have no idea what is going on outside this compound but for past thirty minutes I was thinking about how nice the water is on my feet." Khushi said and paused. "Why am I not feeling guilty?" She asked looking at her feet visible over clear water. Arnav, who was rolling up his pants to dip his feet in water, didn't respond immediately.
"Frankly, I don't know anymore. I don't think I have had this kind of free time since I was in high school and that's almost two decades ago." Arnav said sighing in content when his feet touched cool water. "This is nice," he said.
"If you were to go back, then would you do what you were to do before?" Khushi asked. Arnav looked at her.
"Don't tell me you've had a change of heart Khushi," he asked surprised. Khushi chuckled.
"I didn't mean that way. We are too old and have our choices ingrained in us for decades now; changing that to something else – I don't know if that's even possible anymore. Change – good or bad would be fought like white blood cells fighting virus." She replied.
"But I never expected that such a thing like this," Arnav waved his hand around him indicating the compound, "could be even remotely possible - a self-sustaining fully operational and functional society straight out of an idea case study." He said. He was impressed with the functioning of the compound as Akash happily showed them the way everything fit together.
"Do you really believe that Arnav? Especially how there is a lack of culture, arts and expression," she said. Arnav nodded.
"Every civilization has expressed their own way functioning – art and culture being one of them. I've read about it, sure, but in grand scheme of things, they end up not being the primary priority. If I were to have hundred rupees, I would give to someone who is in need of it. But here, in this compound, I would invest in something that's not related to daily aspect of life." Arnav said.
"Are you missing Bollywood that much?" Khushi asked raising an eyebrow. Arnav looked at her taken aback for a moment at the witty comeback.
"You know what I mean. But yes, Bollywood is also a good example." He said. "I think we were wrong to deduce that Akash has robbed people of this compound of their humanity," he said. Khushi looked at him, waiting. "He has taken away their freedom of expression." He said.
"That's pretty accurate observation Arnav," Akash came from behind and sat on the other side of Khushi. "These people aren't still ready for such a notion. They still carry the prejudice of their past," he added.
"And you get to decide it?" Khushi asked, challenging him.
"In this case, I do. How is a policy to be implemented at a national level made, Khushi? A person like you makes a draft and talks to a politician like Arnav. Arnav goes to his party and sells the idea and sees how the policy is going to affect them and their friends. If they have friends in places which would profit because of this policy, then they will lobby it for you in media which they can influence on. In matter of months quarter of the country is aware of the policy and suddenly everyone is talking about it. There would be flood and famine or wars on borders but still, the policy would take up the most evenings' air time and a nasty mix of politics, corporate culture, diplomatic dealings and a dash of underworld is made. Once such a concoction is brewed, it's fed to the general public who is worried about five rupees hike in diesel and shortage of electricity. Then again, it's the same public which upholds Bollywood so it buys yet again cheap quality for a large price. And thus the cycle repeats." Akash ended.
"Don't compare a policy to an expression Akash," Khushi admonished.
"I am not comparing them. I am saying that they are the same. Policies are designed to help the public. Did anyone in this entire process actually ask public?" Akash asked.
"They don't need to ask," Arnav replied.
"Why shouldn't they ask? It's their country too." Akash rallied back.
"They shouldn't ask because they elected the government." Arnav replied, smiling softly. "They participated in election, voted for the person they want and elected them just to ensure that the problems that they have is addressed. Essentially, that's democracy." Arnav said flapping his legs in water. Akash looked aghast. "Then again, I wouldn't bet on you understanding or even remembering the definition of democracy given how you seem to refuse that line of thought." Arnav added. Akash deflated at the implication.
"People in your constituency believed in you and elected your party. Look where it's gotten them. The families which committed suicide – those deaths are on you Arnav. If that's the democracy that you are preaching about, I think I am better off about it." Akash fell silent.
Khushi squeezed Arnav's palm seeing how he was frozen at Akash's words. He knew it already that the moves he made in party had sometimes irrevocable reaction. His motto and agenda was to ensure the success of party. On the way he took some decision which had some collateral damage and he hadn't let that get to him.
But now, when he sat down in a quiet bright place where he could clearly hear the sound of his breathing, those decisions haunted him.
He squeezed back Khushi's hand discreetly assuring her of his state of mind.
The three fell silent and sat that way till the sun went down behind the mountains.
Cricket
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