…Alvarez was tensed since morning. He was called three times yesterday by Excise Inspector Wagle. He was being harassed by Shyam Kothari, once encounter specialist, now a powerful political power broker! His chef had a scrap with him last night and today he did not turn up for work…endless..endless…these pressures trouble him no end. Better had he been a Friar in a monastery. At least, everything is in order. Great, mind blowing discipline! Only trouble is just to obey blindly the superior Friar. He is the boss. He pulls the strings. Of course and why not? If one powerful guy, even a frog in the pond existence calls the shots and by becoming his chamcha or well….His life is made..!! he will enjoy his life..!
“Every move you make, every step…” His mobile rang shouting and bringing ex- police’s Sting alive.
“Hello” sang Alvarez
“Hello. Arrange two peti’s and rush to Yeshwant Rai’s house” ordered the voice belonging to Kudwa.
Alvarez never liked Kudwa’s telephonic conversations. Always will come to the matter. No how are you and how is life etc..
“Uh..What?”
“Did you not hear me” Pundalik Kudwa was extremely mad at him.
“Yeh,.. Amigo.. please ..tell me? bear with me.. help.. help me..” Alvarez was sweating, his voice was trembling.
“..You..stupid. Do as I say..just get the money, not a rupee less than 2 lacs and rush to Khar. Me and Yeshwant are putting together another two each. We have to save Abraham! You swine..!!”
“Uh..oh?Ok..Ok.. But..but”
“Shut up.. I can give you one hour. Meet us at Khar dhanda opposite Chetna wine shop. Come straight inside ?Rakshak’ security group’s office. We will be inside Capt. Sameer Khan’s cabin. That’s all. No more questions.
“Wait wait Kudwa Sir..hold…what a mishap! I am here neck deep in my problems and these guys are pushing me into more problems..
Well..it has turned out like a Bermuda Triangle. A point of no return “Alvarez’s thoughts flowed like a river in monsoon.
“If I do not give them money, these guys will put me into trouble. They have the Excise, Income Tax officers in their pockets. They have literally the whole of Home ministry in their pockets..” shuddered Alvarez. “I have to rush” muttering loudly he called his Accountant.
*************
“Hello…Is this St. Sebastian’s Club? A voice enquired .
” Yes, it is.. whom do you want to speak to..” Peter was scratching his head. He was on queue to have a bath. And the phone rang.
” Attu” said the voice on the other end.
“Alright.. whats your good name?
“well, I am Steven d’ Souza. Urgently I need to speak to Attu.”
“please hold”
“Attu…Attu..there is a phone call for you. Peter went back to his friends where they were playing a nice game of cards.
“Hey..Attu…three or rather four of them shouted in a single tone.
“hey..I am hear, right here in the kitchen” Attu dashed with the day’s newspaper in hand.
“I was engrossed…” He had by then already reached the phone.
“Hello…Attu here..”
” Hey…This is Steven man…
“Hi”
“Please call your aunt.. There is an urgent call from your mom. There was a fight between your parents. Your mom has left house and gone to granny’s house.
“Attu did not say a word.
The caller continued. “Urgently.. call your aunt. You may have to urgently go down to native place” Steven was becoming breathless in excitement.
“What..well. “Attu gathered himself.”
Well, Steven..”Attu regained his composure. The all 22 years of himself sounded as a matured guy over the phone. Well, No one must have had as many brickbats like him in his young life. He had become over smart and was scuba diving into new problems every alternate day.. so to say..!!
“Okay, fine.. I will speak to her?”
Thank you..Buddy “Steven hung up.”
Attu had tears in his eyes. What a miserable life? His Dad and Mom were together till he was a year older in this cruel world. After that…he was like a football in a stadium. Twenty two players along with the referee handle the ball. They kick the ball..from one goal post to another goal post!
“Well.. just being kicked around recklessly! Attu settled himself on a wooden chair in front of the altar. Without his knowledge. His eyes had become a reservoir. Tears scaled down his cheeks. Of course, his fellow waiter colleagues in the Bar where He worked had made him visit the know all and be all fortune tellers and the pseudo spiritualists. In Indian lingo. the pandits! Be it the sacrosanct Christian Priests or the Hindu purohits. Attu was very much rejoicing, always thinking he had all the knowledge and power in this world. His eyes had welled beyond his control. Any outsider having a look at him will definitively will come to terms that Attu was weeping inconsolably. Attu was in his own world. Well, like always!
To be continued…
Author: Donald Dsilva- Mumbai
