‘Stay. I’ll bring you a plate of
those pakoras I prepared’, said Mrs. R.
I was ready to leave. My maths tuition,
held at my friend A’s place was over. And I did not like hanging around. I
never bothered much about people. As I was about to reassert my need to leave,
the house was plunged into darkness. It was six o’clock and power cuts were
unusual in Ashtown.
Candles were lit and my attempts
at leave-taking were thwarted by the sudden turn of events. I was sitting in
the drawing room sofa, with A jabbering at my left ear and Mrs. R pushing the
obnoxious smelling pakoras under my nose.
Just then the bell rang.
It was S from the flat above Mrs. R’s. S was in
the same class as A and me and even in the minimal light we could make out his
ashen face and hear his loud breathing.
‘Aunty, lock all… doors…windows.
There are four or five Outlaws on the…, roaming the streets of Ashtown. This
couple from the first lane…. taking their evening walk when one Outlaw asked
for the lady’s golden chain… Refused, her throat… slit and her husband… tend
his dying wife. Then again another lady…. her dupatta tugged by another Outlaw.
The police could not be reached, so everyone is being asked to fend for
themselves.’
Stuttering out so much, S rushed
off home, making loud sounds on the stairs. As Mrs. R stood dumbfounded with
her hand on the open door, only crickets could be heard from the pitch black
outside. A shiver ran down my spine. Suddenly coming to life she banged the
door shut and got busy locking the windows.
I was worried. Knowing mother’s
nature, I was sure she had already left home with a torch-light to fetch me.
The thought of her out there with the Outlaws on the prowl gave me cold feet.
The Outlaws were known for a casualness
of attitude. They did the most horrible things and all with a sense of fun.
There was something very youthful about the way the Outlaws seemed to enjoy
their deed to the fullest and then soon after forget about it and move ahead as
if it was already old. They could carve a bloody smile simply because they thought
you lacked a sense of humour.
Mother finally arrived. Half an
hour later. She had heard nothing about it. She listened to the animated retelling
of the events and her face registered a shock that made me scared. But we had
to leave. My grandparents were at home waiting. My voice croaked at the
goodbye.
We reached our apartment. Ours
was the first floor flat on the right. It was full moon. Both my grandparents
were sitting out on the balcony overlooking the entrance to the apartment. They laughed aloud in greeting. Mother and I
entered, shivering silently.
Inside the doors, we told the
elderly couple about the recent happenings. They took it rather lightly. Father
joined in. He did not speak much, only smiled a sad smile. The five of us moved
to the balcony where moonlight played on the wrinkled face of grandpa as he boisterously
talked on.
Suddenly a wild boar ran out from
the bush beside our apartment gate and went across into the street. It screamed
and suddenly there were other voices also screaming. The boar gave a final screech
of pain and then stopped. Mother rushed to the edge and peered out of the
balcony. She jumped back and pushed us all inside, whispering urgently, ‘They’re
here, they’re here.’
Things suddenly happened in
utmost haste. From the corner of my eye I saw a group of five enter the main
gate. We had forgotten to latch the door of our flat. Mother and father threw
themselves on the door to shut it and latch it. But it was too late. Hurried
steps were heard coming up the stairs. The door was being pushed from outside, I was plastered against the
opposite wall between my old folks. I was trembling in fear. And then I caught
the first glimpse of an Outlaw’s face.
He was young. Blunt nose.
Glittering eyes. A colourful skull cap. The door burst open. Mother and father
both fell motionless on either side. The first Outlaw, followed by the rest
slowly made their way towards me. All of them wore such colorful dresses.
Multicolored drapes and scarves. The leader approached me and looked me in the
eye. Then he smiled…
[P.S. This is the first of a
two-part nightmare that I had on a winter night. I remember it in vivid detail
to this day and the piece above is an exact representation. The only detail
that I opted to omit is that in the dream I had recognized the face of the
leader. It belonged to Anu Malik.]
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