Yantrixa 10:To Nazia, My Love...

I love all things Goan - can't get enough of Goa. I think Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa is my favourite movie.

I dragged my brother to Goa Portuguesa last night and lo and behold - we ran into Anjane. My brother nearly shit himself - I admit I was happy too. Anjane was my brother's classmate in Kirti. They met for the first time in Biology class and soon became very close friends. Anjane was from Khandesh, and spoke Ahirani, a language my parents grew up listening to. That made him a hit on Ganesh Chaturthi.

Back in his college days Anjane had a hostel room, and I had job that allowed easy access to alcohol and money - it was a match made in heaven. We became regulars at a dance bar called the Commander in Chembur. Anjane had never been in the big city before, we partied through the night.

The parties continued even after my brother and Anjane graduated. I was in Italy at the time and I missed the transition. The night I returned from Milan, I got a call from Anjane to come party with him again. I had picked up a few bottles of wine and I was in a mood to share, so I agreed. I figured we'd meet up at the Commander and take it from there. I was wrong.

My brother and I rode out to meet Anjane somewhere in Ballard Pier on a motorbike. I had no idea what we were doing in Ballard Pier, but I wasn't really bothered, I loved to travel the city at night. We passed yet another row of grain godowns and spotted something up ahead. We slowed down when we realised that those were the flashing lights of a Qualis and that a bus was parked half the way across the road. We came to a halt near the bus and then we saw the now very very late Irfan mian. Next to him, bleeding away into the next world was mian's sidekick Aslam (nee' Gururaj). A plainclothesman was wiping a Smith Wesson and placing it in Irfan mian's hand and an AK variant was already in Gururaj's hand. The blood from the bodies was still draining away in a pool that was growing and a strong smell of urine and shit filled the air. Some distance away, a plainclothesman was vomitting his guts out.

As we approached the Qualis, I saw Anjane standing next to Shirsat. Shirsat's face was often on the cover of the tabloids. Shirsat had his foot on the bumper of the Qualis and was in a quiet conversation with Anjane who was standing very rigidly. Shirsat had a standard issue Glock in an evidence bag and though I could barely hear what Shirsat was saying, Anjane was saying "Yes Sir..." to everything. I had no idea Anjane worked for Shirsat - I simply assumed he had gone home to Khandesh after graduating. My mind is blank as to how we ended up riding in the back of the Qualis after that and all I seem to recall is passing around the bottle of Pinnochio to everyone in the back of the car - including the constable, Phane - who just recently had been puking his guts out.

It was a night to remember after that. I had no idea that a Qualis could go that fast when the driver was blind drunk. Anjane took to the Pinnochio quite well, but felt the Barolo was too complex - it made sense it is actually meant to be had with a good piece of meat. At the party afterwards Anjane told us how they had hunted Irfan and Aslam for two weeks now. Apparently they had taken things too far recently and raped a schoolgirl from Mulund. The girl was related to a politician and that is when the shit hit the fan. That is why their names were on a black list. I was stoned out of my mind and I called Anjane, Shikari Shambu and my brother laughed so hard that the wine came out of his nose. The Shikari name stuck after that night. And we ended up at our usual place, where I fell in love with Nazia, the queen of the night at the Commander.

Now at the bar at Goa Portuguesa, I amused Anjane with stories of my rides in the Kabul Armed Police 's technicals. He was particularly amused about the incidents in Jalabad where we ran afoul of some private contractors and took fire from a "visiting Pakistani delegation". He asked me if I wanted to hang out after dinner, I agreed since I had nothing better to do.

We ended up in the back of another nondescript Qualis driving near Shivaji Park. About ten minutes into the ride, I realised Anjane was too focussed to be partying. It was a long shot - but I asked him casually who the mark was tonight and he told me Fotedar (who replaced Shirsat three years ago) was done putting up with Pavel. Fotedar was a bit more like Singh (who Shirsat replaced a decade ago), very taciturn and somewhat hands off but like his predecessor Fotedar was the attack dog that never stops.

Pavel - Pavel Petrovich - aka Uncle Sasha - the main supplier of "Russian Vodkas" to the rich and famous in Bombay. I knew Pavel - he was a good fellow in a general sort of way - it was really too bad it had to be this way. I told Anjane, I had heard he worked for the Rezident of Napean Sea Road. Anjane agreed, he had heard the same thing, but Fotedar was apparently worried that the "Vodkas" were all honey traps and there would be nothing but trouble from this. Apparently Fotedar and some people from Delhi had chatted up the Rezident, but he said very clearly that he didn't know Pavel and didn't care what happened to him. That seemed to close the book as far as Fotedar and Anjane were concerned. The formal order had been red-flashed to them from New Delhi a hour ago - while we were drinking at Goa Portuguesa.

I knew Pavel had a habit of taking one of the "Vodkas" out for a spin on his motorbike late at night. He drove it like a madman because there was no traffic and that impressed the girls. Anjane must have known this too, because we waited with the lights turned out near the Savarkar memorial. I felt the liquor dimming my senses, but I still had a strange feeling in my stomach.

Half an hour later, we saw a flash light go off in a building up the road and I heard the roar of a motorbike. Seconds later I heard a car start up and then there was the most terrible sound of metal crunching on metal. A loud bang followed, and Anjane started the Qualis.

We drove past the scene about a hundred yards up the street. It was just around a corner, Uncle Sasha lay sprawled near the road divider, his brains were spreading out on the tar. The vehicle that he collided with was nowhere to be seen. The "Vodka", the girl he was riding around with, was about twenty yards behind Pavel, she was gone too - her neck was turned in an impossible way. There was blood and mangled metal everywhere.

Anjane was stooped over the body and I stood numbed by the event. As I heard a siren in the distance, I turned to face the source of the sound. My mind seemed to fade and the world became quite foggy, but I made out the dim outline of a bus filled with Tetravals and it lurched to a stop ten feet from me.

Yantrixa-9 The Blessings of the Saint

I have been here before. My aunt had sought a mannat here. My uncle was lying in a coma, and my aunt had run out of Gods to pray to. In her desperation, she came here on the day of the Urs. Somehow after the visit my uncle regained consciousness and my aunt came more regularly to pay her respects to the Saint of Mahim.

Amin is a member of the family. The family actually runs the shrine. The shrine is under the nominal management of a foundation with all sorts of trustees, but the family does the day-to-day work. I lied to Wagh, I know Amin quite well, we were in school together.

I stop briefly on Dargah road to pick up some flowers and offerings for the Saint. A bored looking police constable in an aging Qualis eyes me as he thumbs through a menu on his smart phone. A Tetravaal scanned the street behind me as I approach the check naka near the gates. I was made to pass through a backscatter detector array and about ten feet away two APR-113s stand mute - the only movement is a dim red dot scanning across their visors.

I am uncomfortable here and mind you I was the one that covered the first day they were came here. As tradition dictates, they too marched in the Urs procession and placed the first flowers on the grave of the Saint. It felt odd then - and it feels odd now.

As I turn my head towards the back of the street I spot the special services van parked near Afzal Sweet Centre. I look at my phone and sure enough I have no reception. The special services van makes sure that unless you have a bypass code, your phone is dead. There should be a couple of snipers on the roof tops - but I dare not look.

I make my way slowly through the gates, wash my feet and hands, and then I stand in line waiting for darshan. It takes an hour or so, and after I am done - I ask one of the caretakers for an audience with Amin. He is taken aback at first but then I give him my name and phone number and he walks away. A few minutes later he returns, and I am escorted to the Amin's office.

I enter the room and I see a woman and her young children sitting before Amin. Amin waves to me, and I indicate I will wait on the sofa in his office while he finishes what he is doing. The woman and children are Muslims from Konkan. I catch what appears to be the last few words of a long conversation, an agreement by Amin to support the children's education and after that is done, the visitors thank Amin and leave.

Amin comes over to me and we embrace. I haven't seem him for a year and after he asks his staff to bring us a cup of tea and some khari biscuits we settle into the sofas and begin talking. I relate to him my encounter with Wagh - and slowly Amin's face changes form a warm welcome to something darker and much wearier.

Amin: So Wagh knows about it too. It makes sense of course Nagvekar in Mahim Chowky must have told him. I think Nagvekar and him go some ways back.

Me: Yes, Nagvekar was the Coastal Inspector in Bankot when Wagh was the SP in Ratnagiri. He was transferred to some place in Marathwada after Wagh retired.

Amin: Hmm... Nagvekar was transferred to Mahim some years ago. He the guardian of the artifacts at Mahim now.

Me: So what is this about?

Amin: You just saw the family that was in here?

Me: The konkani family - that was just here?

Amin: (nodding) - they are victims of this Varun mess - unsung ones perhaps - but victims.

Me: victims? - how - rioting mein kuch hua kya?

Amin: No.. tetravaal killed the men in their family.

Me: What?!

Amin: Yes - and I have been to both John and Rakesh and both act like these people simply don't exist.

Me: That is odd... details hain?

Amin: Sure - in the middle of the night the Tetravaal barged into their houses and shot the men without warning - without notice of arrest - nothing whatsoever.

Me: But that doesn't make sense - they have a very clear protocol for weapons usage.

Amin: It was not followed.

Me: If that were the case - then we would all be dead now. So why only these men?

Amin: They had records. Some of them were in the older files as history sheeters.

Me: History Sheets of the old SB-CID kind? - when they used to prepare unified records of people with a propensity for bad acts? those are no longer maintained - everyone is tracked via biometrics - all prior offenses come up if your record is pulled. Most of the people with history sheets are too old to be considered active now. I am surprised those records are still around.

Amin: They must be around because several of the men killed were older. Some younger men were killed also, but mostly older ones.

Me: Do you have a sense of how many?

Amin: Hundreds per what I have seen or heard.

Me: I knew that people indulging in rioting were shot by the Tetravaal, but what you are describing is complete news to me.

Amin: No - when I first heard it - I had flashbacks of the Bhagalpur incidents - I didn't actually believe the victims, I thought how could this happen - in this day and age.

Me: I am not sure what to believe.

Amin: (Reaching into his table drawer - pulling out a USB drive) - here is a copy of everything I have found so far.

Me: Can I keep it?

Amin: Yes - it is relevant to the movie you are making. Someone somewhere has to give a voice to these people otherwise it is not fair.

Me: Hmm.... I would like to help if I can.

Amin:I would appreciate it... I am glad Wagh told you to come to me.

Me: Ahmmm... about that... can I ask a favour.

Amin: Sure... why not... anything.

Me: Don't tell Wagh I came here.

Amin:(smiling) why?

Me: You know why... don't make me say it.

Amin:(Laughing)... okay okay...

Yantrixa-8 Wagh and his Restobar.

Wagh, of the curly mustache, formerly wore khaki - now nominally the owner of a restobar (whatever that is), but in spirit - an artist and part-time movie producer, and (if my friend who works near Shirin Talkies was to be believed) a full-time bookie/hawala trader.

Wagh - the sum of contradictions, born into a landed family near Panjim, married into a locally respected political clan, held a permanent government job with a steady paycheck... then subsequently quit the job - divorced and remarried - this time to a former Miss India Miss Universe. Does God-Only-Knows-What but is seen on page 3 of Midday almost every month and is at every major club in the city and in Goa.

Wagh - the life of the party - and his life seems like it was a party always...

It is difficult for me to imagine this is the same person who once intercepted the largest single consignment of cocaine ever to traverse Ratnagiri district. The story never made the news and remains buried to date. It happened before he retired... I think it is why he retired. He simply could not believe that they made him give it back and in exchange he got to keep his life.

It is rumoured that the men in khaki have an underworld of their own and Wagh was at the center of it. Wagh... heavily... heavily connected.

I was at his restobar with my brother. Wagh sometimes walks around the place and introduces himself to the patrons, who are mostly Maharashtrian upper middle class types. I was here because my brother (another bureaucrat by blood) loved it. The place is popular very with bureaucrats, theatre personalities and doctors, they can bring their wives and kids and still sip some beer and have aamty and bhaath afterwards and gab with each other while food is served. Like having a party in someone else's house.

It is a disgusting combination - frankly - but the things one does for family...

Wagh is garrulous, can get people to become too talkative. He managed to get my brother to spill the beans on who I was. Wagh probably knew who I was anyway and he was certainly sharp enough to know that I knew who he was. An odd situation, like being in one of those "Lego Star Wars Cantina" sequences you see on Youtube. You are Greedo, you know exactly what is going to happen, and you dread it, but there is no way to stop it, you feel like a block of plastic moving jerkily in world that seems familiar yet weird.

I wasn't too surprised when I was dragged off the table to the bar area to see Mrs. Wagh, who was entertaining some family friends from London there. A few polite exchanges later, Wagh and I were alone at the bar and the pumping began.

Wagh: So I hear you are making a movie?

Me: Yes, documentary on the Varun case.

Wagh: Really (feigning surprise - I am sure)... what is the name?

Me: Qayamat ke Din.

Wagh: Wow.. so what is the film going to say?

Me:(wow - talk about fast... ) I don't know yet..

Wagh: What?! how can you not know? You are the producer and director...

Me:(WTF is this? - seriously what is your angle?)... I am still collecting interviews with people. I don't have a full picture so far. Something unexpected happened.

Wagh: Everyone has a theory but no one seems to know what when wrong..

Me:(haan Madarchod!... what is your angle? why do you care?) What is you theory?

Wagh: Me?...

Me: Yes... how do you feel about all this?

Wagh: The bombing narrowed the options, people were scared and something had to be done. But whatever was done, I am not so sure if it was the best that could be done.

Me: Crime is down. People are saying that is a benefit.

Wagh: Yes that is true but there are other problems and this Varun case brings them to the fore.

Me: Like? (No... behanchod, now its your turn under the spotlight).

Wagh: Like the fact that if the Tetravaal are convinced that there is something to be done - then there is no way to unconvince them. And who decides how the Tetravaal operate? No one...

(Now I am even more confused. This is Wagh-the-life-of-the-Party I am talking to, where the fuck is all this coming from? this fellow lives in Pali Hill, since when does he care about this?.. I thought he was grilling me so that he could mouth off about my project to some media whore he bangs tomorrow night.. but this is completely weird.)

Me: So do you feel they have been high handed? did they do something to you?

Wagh: I was pulled over the other night at a checkpoint near Bandstand. I told them who I was and they wanted to check me for alcohol or drugs and they wouldn't take no for an answer. I have a right to refuse and they didn't want to back off. Me - drugs and alcohol - what a joke...

Me: So what happened?

Wagh: Nothing, they wrote me up a citation for obstruction. Me -- of all people - obstruction. Can you believe this? I was able to get it revoked but this behaviour is not good.

Me: You think the Varun incident was something like this at work? them being too mechanical in their response?

Wagh: Perhaps, it seems like a programming issue to me. They are programmed to enforce the law and they responded aggressively when they felt the situation was going out of hand.

Me: But they restored order in a few days. That is quite a feat given how fragile the peace has been in recent times.

Wagh: Okay but at what price?

Me: (disbelief that I am having this conversation with Wagh ...) err... a smaller price than the re-ignition of mass rioting, I think.

Wagh:... You know ... you need another perspective. You know Amin?

Me: Amin... of the Dargah Makhdoom Ali?

Wagh: Yes... you know him?

Me: I have said hi-hello to him once or twice.

Wagh: Go see him again..

Me: (umm... what the ... no no no ... I DONT take orders from you) He is very busy..

Wagh: I have his number, I will call him right now and arrange for a meeting tomorrow.

Me: umm... okay... (wtf..wtf...wtf... who set me up for this?)

Wagh: Hey ... look its Meera... come lets say hi to her.

(Meera - latest hot thing from Bollywood... reputed to be very painful to converse with... I need to get out of here before Wagh gets me to interview her too.. I might very well read in tomorrow's Midday how Wagh is actually producing and directing my movie.)

Me: Err.. actually I think my brother is wondering where I am.

Wagh: Oh... Sorry... I completely forgot.

Me: its okay, excuse me...

(fuck... fuck fuck fuck... what have I got myself into...)

Yantrixa-7: Back in Bombay

I realised it is best to stay away from Delhi for the moment.

I got in touch with the family in the eye of the storm. I had to go through a friend who works at the Sakal - very hard core ghati but extremely intelligent and a very nice fellow. He lives in Hindu colony. I think Pawle's uncle lives there too.

The family lived across from Powai lake. One of those new overpriced high rise buildings. The husband and wife worked in software companies in SEEPZ, both well paid - middle class professionals, graduates from good universities. Their names are well known now, as is their son's name, but I am going to call them Gita, and Naresh in the hope that they can go back to the comforting anonymity of their lives prior to this madness.

Bombay has never been kind to immigrants, but what they have faced is stuff of nightmares - the very substance of hell. Like so many others they left their native Bihar to seek a better life elsewhere and Bombay - betrayed them.

Me: I know you have done this many times before, but can you tell me how it began..

Naresh: Well... I suppose it all started a week after the bombing. The riots had broken out and there was no way to go to the office. Mobs had gheraoed two of our buses and beaten up the drivers, and so we simply shut the office down to avoid further casualties. The Army came in some time after that, but we had seen things like this in our native place... Patna, so there was concern but we had no fear.

Gita: There was curfew and our bai, Imartiben - stopped coming to work also. I guess it only natural that she too feared for her safety. The schools shut down on the day of the blast itself.

Naresh: We heard reports of rioting and police firing in Sakinaka area and also near Kanjurmarg. We think Imartiben's family lived in that area. We hope they are well, we still have not heard from her.

Naresh: There was curfew outside also and we began to run out of food. There was a meeting of the residents association. Our neighbour had a curfew pass, he used to work for a local political party. We heard horrible stories about what was going on nearby from him. In the general body meeting, there was talk of petitioning for a relaxation of the curfew to permit families to purchase essential commodities. I don't know how the petition was to be made, I think it was probably going to be made via the local political party.

Gita: Then Varun fell sick. He had a fever, we had to get him to a doctor so we were hoping for a break in the curfew very badly.

Naresh: The Army commander in the area agreed to to a break in the curfew for two hours. Only one person per family was allowed to be out. I put Varun in my arms and walked into the Chandivali area where I heard a doctor's office had temporarily opened.

Naresh: I don't know what happened next, we were waiting in line at the doctor's office and suddenly a mob appeared and began attacking us.

Gita - (sobbing).

Naresh: I don't remember very much, I heard firing, and then I recall seeing the face of an Armyman near me. I saw Varun lying next to me and then I think I lost consciousness.

Gita - (still sobbing)

Naresh: I think the office was attacked by a mob, and the army fired on them. Varun and I both were hurt - we had deep knife wounds and severe burns. The army took us to Rajawadi hospital and from there after our neighbour located us with the help of his political contacts - we were shifted to Jaslok. When I was there police officers came by and asked me if I recalled anything - I told them I didn't. They also spoke to Varun. It seems he was able to see the faces of the people who attacked us.

Gita - (gets up an leave the room).

Naresh: We were in there for a long time. The city was paralysed, there were problems getting medicines and Varun's health deteriorated. He had some kind of fever that was not going away and I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Gita somehow took care of us then.

Me: I am sorry, please tell me if this is too difficult for you..

Naresh: (looking over in the direction Gita just walked out in) No not me so much, I was unconscious for the most of it - she saw all this first hand - so she is not so comfortable with recalling such events.

Naresh: I began to recover a few months after the incident. I think around this time Varun's condition also began to show signs of improvement. The police who came to see him told me that the city was returning to normal and that a new type of policing platform - these Tetravaal units had been imported to help protect the city. Apparently Varun had identified the attackers and the police were hoping to build a case against them.

Me: So this was a few months after the bombing.

Naresh: Yes, Varun was still in the critical care facility in Jaslok but the danger to him was reducing. We were expecting to take him home as soon as the doctor's said he was doing well enough. The police were going to take a statement from him. The doctor's had told us that we would have to bring him back for a regular check up but it was looking much better.

Me: So ... when did the other incident happen?

Naresh: It was all nice and calm for a few months. Those tetravaal units were really keeping things under control. I had taken Varun to see his grandparents in Patna, and then we returned home. Varun became slightly ill again so I took him to Jaslok again, and as a precaution they admitted him. By this time the police had built up their case and came to Jaslok to record a statement incamera. They brought the books containing photos of the criminals and Varun pointed at the faces of those he recognised.

Naresh: A day or so after that, we were waiting for discharge papers to come through when suddenly a large commotion was heard down the hall. I didn't know what was happening but I instinctively tried to cover Varun. A number of men barged into the room that Varun was in. They all had pieces of cloth masking their faces, a number of them carried knives and other weapons. They pulled me off of Varun and beat me. All the while they were abusing Bihar and my Hindi background. They then took Varun in the arms and walked out the door. I lay on the floor bleeding, and I was not able to stop them. The rest of the people in the hall and the ward looked on helplessly. I later learned that two security guards at Jaslok had been killed by this group of people.

Me: Good God...

Naresh: God didn't come to my mind at the time. I could only think of Varun. The police arrived quickly and in the moments before I lost consciousness from the bleeding, I told them what had happened. ...

(phone rings ...:

Naresh: Excuse me, I have to get this..

(talks on the phone... and turns towards pawle and cyrus and asks them to turn the camera off. A few minutes later, he turns to me)

Naresh: It seems there is an emergency at the office, I have to go - some servers in the US have gone down and they want it looked at. Sorry...

Me: Oh.. no by all means go ahead.

Naresh: I am really sorry, maybe we can come back to the story some time next week?

Me: Yes, yes sure... no problem.. May be I can chat with Gita or Varun..

(Naresh looks unsure... and goes into the house. I can hear a raised voice it is female.. seconds later Gita bursts out of what looks like the bedroom...)

Gita: Please leave us alone... I don't want to talk about this. Varun is only a boy... why can't you people understand? Please we just want to be left alone...

Me: Ofcourse ma'am, I fully understand... what a terrible story!

Naresh: I am sorry, she is very upset.

Me: No, no - no reason to apologise, I should be the one saying sorry. I will take my leave right away - I am very sorry about the intrusion.

Pawle and Cyrus begin to pack up. About fifteen minutes later, we head for the door and Naresh sees us out of the house.

As I walk out the staircase, I realise - this is how Qayamat ka Din began...

Yantrixa-6: Delhi

I have never like Delhi, I don't know why - I grew up in Bombay and Delhi doesn't make sense to me. As Siddarth Basu once said to the famed Mayank Austen Soofi, - there is a jiski laathi uski bhains culture in Delhi. I can't figure out where it comes from but I can't be bothered with it. The city is inherently not as cosmopolitan as Bombay. I don't know what else to say.

I parked myself in the Ambassador where I usually do. I had setup a meeting with an old friend in Metcalfe House but as I was busily picking through my sumptuous breakfast - when I realised the "thing" sitting across from me bundled in bandages and a plaster cast was Barsha.

You know people say terrible things about her, but honestly - I've found her to be perfectly decent. Starting a conversation with her - given her state proved difficult. Most of this nasty stuff started from that incident that was captured on the ATM video camera but I don't think it is fair to keep dragging her name through the mud for that.

Turns out that she was driving back from Meherauli late one night when she had some sort of altercation with a bunch of college girls driving an SUV. The girls pulled her off the road and beat her up and smashed her car. She had no idea who they were and apparently the Police didn't exactly believe her story. A social worker from the Crimes Against Women unit had come to see her to ask her if she was in an abusive relationship and it was only a call from her father that had prevented the Police from arresting her boyfriend on suspicion of battery.

I was shocked - in a bid to distract from the obviously distressing situation I told her what I was working on. What followed was one of the most bizarre and fortuitous conversations of my life.

Me: So that is it really. I think I might call it "Qayamat ka Din".

B(arsha): Nice catchy - I am jealous. I started developing something like that a few months ago but the MD wouldn't have any of it. I managed to get them to approve a related story but that too got shut down.

Me: Care to tell me what it was?

B: Sure - why not - its all ancient history now.

B: So that part where everyone thinks the Tetravaal are imported? - there is something funny going on there.

B: I decided to go poking around and I found out that the initial import proposal was shot down by Metcalfe House and yet somehow the whole thing went through. I thought they were overruled and most likely Daal me kuch kala hain. So I thought why not go talk to them? after Qayamat ka Din, I figured people might be more up to sharing. So I set up a meeting with a source there.

B: Now when I got there - the feeling was quite bizarre. The source denied all the stuff about Metcalfe House ever having objected to the import. That didn't make any sense either. If there was a time to say "I told you so" - it was now right?

Me: Yes that is strange.

B: I know - but the source was categorical - he denied that Metcalf had anything to do with refusing an import. After I pushed him for an hour, he finally said that the intelligence community had made the objections.

Me: The "Intelligence Community"? Who the hell is that?

B: That is what I thought also. So I went around poking and probing but everyone I spoke to told me that they had no idea what I was talking about. They all parroted the story about Metcalfe House stalling imports.

Me: That's weird.

B: So anyway after a few months of searching around, I finally came upon someone who might be able to clear this up. One of those residents of the 14th floor of Lodhi Road. I had an idea where he lived and so I caught up with him outside his house.

Me: Ooh.. that sounds very bold.

B: Yeah - turned out he was not amused. I fucked up - I didn't know that the 14th floor crowd has its own gorillas. He rounded on me in ten seconds after I asked him about the import issue. He began to question me, how did I know who he was, how did I find where he lived, why was I asking such questions, who sent me, what was my MD thinking... and so on. And seconds later he set the gorillas on my camera man and sound tech. They beat them senseless and they smashed up my support van. A fucking mobile parked one hundred feet away did nothing and after the incident was over they acted like I wasn't even there. They didn't even call an ambulance.

Me: Holy shit - seriously? what did the MD say?

B: Something sympathetic at first and then some time later the MD quietly informed me that I was not to poking around there again. I kept agitating for some action to be taken against these people but then I had that accident on Meherauli road and I have been on medical leave since.

Me: Wow.. I don't know what to say.

B: I know - I spoke to Manoj., I thought with his experience, he should know. I asked him if this was how people behaved. He said usually people were civil, but then if you got too close to something, then their hands were tied. He said that I should let it go lest I ended up like some guy called Hiren but when I probed he clammed up. Do you know what he is talking about?

Me: No .. no idea.

The conversation rolled back and forth and I kept my mouth shut for most of it. I am extremely lucky I met her.

I know exactly what old Manoj was refering to. I know all about Hiren and no I don't want to end up like him.

I think I am going to skip the meeting with the fellow at Metcalfe House, and go home. I really hate Delhi.

Yantrixa-5: John

There are very few of John's kind that I can get along with - I tend to give them a wide berth - their obsession with paperwork drives me insane. John is one of a few notable exceptions. I met him at his house in Hyderabad estate. Pawle thought it would be nice to get a shot of us talking with the sea in the background, so we sat outside in the park.

Here is what he said -

J(ohn): Why do you want do this now? the matter is under investigation as we speak - so it may be premature.

Me: By the time the editing and everything is done, the documetary will be timely.

J: Okay - but then atleast remember that these are tentative comments and frankly my memory of some events isn't at its best.


Me: That is okay - you have a lot of work on your hands now - so I will show it to you before it goes to the editor. So tell me what you recall.


J: Well... we never seem to have enough people in the office. The official phone book has been growing with each year I have been in service here - and every year we sense a shortfall. Information flow between so many people is quite a problem. Ultimately it all has to go through my desk and so I get the worst of it.


Me: So all of this went past you?


J: Ofcourse - I was there from A to Z. I am still there.


Me: Then you are the best one to tell me what happened.


J: I don't about that - but it is clear - unprepared as we are for the next thing - we were knocked out by the VT station bombing. The corporation building houses an enormous amount of information on the city and most of it is in the minds of the people working there. We lost - exactly - *ALL* of them that day. So from that point on - my office became the de-facto corporation. I think I slept in my office for months afterwards. There was so much going on for a while Thambi (Gen. Ghosh's 2iC) had a desk in my office - we used to sleep on the floor together. My assistant's family was killed in the blast, I did not even have time to go for the Uthmana a month later - the poor man was with me al the time despite this horrible situation. I tell you - whatever media writes about us - is is unfair and utter lies.


Me: It was that overwhelming..


J: Yes yes... I simply gave what people were still around me a letter of authority and I told them to solve whatever problems they saw but to do everything in their power to stay alive. When the CP's motorcade was challenged, two of my colleagues were riding in the car behind. The IED killed both of them and their driver. There was no time to do a proper funeral, so we just drove the bodies to Chandanwadi and burnt them there - young boys both of them - fresh from Mussorie. I sent my son with to their families with the ashes. It was terrible.


Me: Good Lord.


J: I can't tell you the sense of despair we felt. There was clearly a refugee crisis, people were simply spilling out of the city - Vashi, Vasai, Thane, everywhere there were impromptu camps appearing due to displaced people. No one felt safe in the city. We had to organise the distribution of food and water. Criminal groups tried to seize control of the water and food supply. Twice in one week, entire food convoys were looted and pretty much on a daily basis criminal gangs were found to be hijacking water tankers and putting locks on municipal taps. There was a thriving black market in all sorts of goods and at the same time people were starving in the city because these people were hoarding. A walk through the refugee camps was completely stunning - there were manourished children everywhere you looked. Dead bodies lined the street - providing medical services was next to impossible even with the Army lending a hand. Electric supply in more than half the city was gone. And the rioting would not stop. It seemed like we had fallen into a bottomless pit.

Me: And all that led up to the proposal?

J: Yes - it did. Rakesh was facing a simlar situation. At my end it was the task of managing the ongoing civilian disaster and the relief supplies, and at his end the concern was law and order restoration. The first signal to us was when Gen. Ghosh told us that he was done with this - it was demoralising his men. Our ... and everyones human limits were stretched beyond belief. Rakesh's solution made sense even though neither of us believed it would go through. We really expected to be relieved the next day.

Me: What happened in Delhi?


J: Well, we went there and we were pretty much dragged off the flight to the Rajiv Gandhi Center. The whole CCS and most of the NSC people were there. We gave our report but the audience was non committal. It was referred to a special meeting of the NSCS. As we waited outside the meeting room, we tried to strategise on how to sell the idea to the NSCS, but actually we were pretty dejected. After that there was a marathon 36 hour session with the NSCS - we talked and went over everything that had happened and there was a major discussion on things that we proposed.

Me: How did the NSCS recieve it?


J: Strangely they didn't think it was a bad idea. There was support but then as the meeting progressed the people from Metcalfe House said it was not safe to deploy a foreign platform in the country like this. Slowly they turned the people to their point of view. We though it was gone - there was no system like this India. Tetravaal had invested a decade of focussed research and drawn people from all over the world to build this system. There was no way in which Metcalfe wallahs could come up with something close.

Me: And then somehow it was approved?

J: Yes - it was approved less than a week after we gave the presentation, I think the decision came from the very top - only that could have cleared all the hurdles.

Me: But the reservations at Metcalfe house?

J: They must have been addressed, I guess - I don't know you should ask them.

Me: Once the decision was taken - things went smoothly?

J: Quite smoothly compared to what we were facing earlier. Normalcy was restored quickly and there was a positive upsurge among the population. Also we were in a better place to keep things running now that we were in the picture for so long.

Me: What happened in the Varun Mishra case?

J: Very sad case - kidnapping had become a booming business during the riots. This particular child was abducted from the hospital where he was recuperating from burns he had in the riots. When he was kidnapped, the old fears returned and the incident took on a communal colour. There was a rumour that he had been kidnapped by his attacker to prevent their identification. That is how the tensions rose again and the second round of rioting followed.

Me: So what happened - Qayamat ke Din kya hua?

J: Qayamat ke Din? - is that what they are calling it now? Judgement Day?

Me: That is the popular term for it - yes.

J: I can't talk about the matter - it is sub judice.

Me: And the Tetravaal are safe? even now?

J: I don't see why not. The question is would we be safer without them.

J: Ah.. I see Balram has brought the tea. You know - the one thing I have come to appreciate after all this is a good cup of tea next to the sea.

So - there you have it. No one wants to talk about it.

Pawle had never seen the estate before, he was taken a little aback. He muttered something nasty about the opulence of the babus, and Cyrus agreed. Figures, both Cyrus and Pawle had spent their lives in counter insurgency and counter terrorism - they had never seen a soft bed much less a cup of tea by the sea in their entire service. No wonder they quit early.

All roads point to Delhi, the city of mysteries. I may have to go there. I feel about as prepared for that as Shivaji on the day he accepted an invitation from the Mughal Saltanat.

Yantrixa-4: Rakesh

When I came to his office some years ago, he had several people in there. There were two people that carried his "phone" - apparently that is how many people he gave his number to. I was expecting more of the same - but now there was no one. The desk was clear, except for a solitary computer and flat screen TV on the wall. He looked relaxed, there were no circles under his eyes - in fact he looked like he was finally getting a full night's sleep. Also missing was the customary line out the door of people begging favours of some kind or the other. From the chit-chat before we set up I gathered he had more time nowadays, he actually went to see a movie with his wife and kids - I was stunned, I didn't know he ever went home.

Cyrus and Pawle were obviously in awe of him. To be expected - they too wore khaki until a few years ago when they decided that they moved out to other more lucrative worlds.

I have turned down several invitations to wear pressed clothes but it is not out of a dislike for that world.

If there was anyone who awe and respect did not seem touch or make unhinged - it was Rakesh.

He knows how to get people talking...

R(akesh): So you are back in the city. I heard about your exploits in Afghanistan. You are lucky to be back in one piece.

Me: It was only a documentary.

R: Some documentary, I hear there is a price on your head. What did you do in Jalalabad?

Me: The camera took some pictures, it didn't go down well in Pindi... any way meri baat chodo, yeh Tetravaal ka kya haal hain.

R: Haal - toh theek hain. I mean you can see the improvement everywhere.

Me: People are scared.

R: But no one is saying that the department is ineffective any more.

Me: How did things change?

R: Change was going to happen after the VT station bombing. There was concern that the department was powerless to stop things. The riots made it worse. Everyone was saying bad things about it.

Me: And so you came up with this solution?

R: And what else was there to do? what was the media writing? Do you know how many books have been written about the VT station bombing? My men estimate that about 50,000 different accounts of the events have been penned and mind you no one recalls a single good thing being said about the department in any of them.

Me: It has that much impact - the bombing?

R: Yes, I recall it clearly, I have never seen so much mangled flesh in my life. I had witnessed Laskhar's handiwork before, but this was like walking into a street in Beirut. The hole was 250 feet wide - the entire front facade of the corporation building was gone and the Victoria building was on fire. All I could see was flesh - the entire crater was gradually filling up with blood and mashed flesh from the bodies that lay on the periphery. There were body parts on everything. The stench was unbelievable. We lost power here after the blast shorted the AC lines in VT. I walked there no less than twenty minutes after the truck bomb went off. Even today less than half the bodies have been identified - the blast wiped out two restaurants and the market - we could not even put the bodies together in most cases. People just assumed that their loved ones were dead. We just dug pits and dumped body parts in there and burnt them with gasoline. That is enough to shake anyone's faith - the rioting was no surprise.

Me: So the bombing's impact and the riots and the pressure on the department all came together

R: Yes - a combination - during the riots I did not sleep for a week. Two others had been on their feet continously in the control room for 90 hours at a stretch, they suffered a heart attack in the PCR and we waited for almost an hour before we could get them some medical help - they died in the hospital because the doctors were all busy dealing with riot victims. It was like being in a warzone. So yes there was a lot of pressure.

Me: all that made you decide that the Tetravaal would solve the problem.

R: Not at first, actually I didn't know what to think. I spent almost a month trying to think what the way out was. I knew the whole world was watching us, and if we didn't have a solution, people would see a weakness an strike. There was simply no way that we could be everywhere at once, and we simply could not see everything. I did the best I could, John understood what I was doing and helped - without his help none of this would have been possible.

Me: So you and John wrote this together?

R: I wrote it, John gave his ideas and then we both walked it to Delhi.

Me: What happened in Delhi?

R: I thought they would throw out us on to the street. Before the trip I told my wife and kids to thinking about packing out bags, I was expecting a transfer but oddly enough that didn't happen. As it turned out - they didn't have any answers up there either. Delhi is a fortress, but no one had a clue what to do down here.

Me: So they approved it then itself?

R: No it was rejected, the objection came from the residents of Metcalfe House, they said a foreign made system like this cannot be deployed on our soil. All that swadeshi stuff was brought out and as you know - people become uncomfortable with that thought very quickly. So at that time both John and I thought - we are dead - this is dead - nothing is going to happen. We pleaded our case with the anyone that would hear us but we didn't think anything was going to come of it. So both came back dejected, we had known each other since the Yavatmal days, so both of us thought - chalo this is it - we are going back to Yavatmal now.

Me: But..

R: But then a week later, I got a call from John, he said someone higher up had made a decision - and it was a green light. I spent the next week getting in touch with the Tetravaal representatives and discussing the details of their systems.

Me: So the objections were set aside.

R: It is best if you ask them what happened to their objections. Delhi is a mysterious place to me.
Me: Okay so then what happened?

R: Well, six months later the first shipment of the bipeds landed in Nhava. They took a week to assemble and we actually set up a main base for them in Uran. The airport offered us land. It was a small facility but it has grown quite a bit. I think we first deployed a unit in Azad Maidan for showing the flag and some testing, but a month later, Malabar Hill, Navpada, Kalachowki ... one station in each Zone had a detachment of some 20 bipeds reporting to an SI. After that a year later, we had 5 detachments of bipeds per station reporting to a head constable, 2-3 detachments of specials reporting an ASI, and a detachment of APR-113 per station reporting to an SI. Induction was quite fast.

Me: Yes - any problems.

R: No no it went smoothly. The interface was compatible with what our people were comfortable with. We can see everything from the PCR so it was a huge boost and results were visible immediately. The public response was very positive - especially to the APR-113 units. There was a genuine sense of relief in the people.

Me: What happened in March?

R:A sectarian flare up.

Me: You are referring to the Varun incident?

R: Yes, the kidnapping caused a major communal rift and violence erupted.

Me: So how did the Tetravaal perform?

R: Very well actually - we were amazed by the manner in which they handled situations. They saved many lives - a few units were damaged but mostly we have been able to repair them.

Me: And on March 13? - Qayamat ke din?

R: The events of that day are under investigation and I refuse to speculate. The experts are reviewing the records - we will know the answers soon.

I have never seen Cyrus and Pawle gush so much, but Rakesh is a born leader - he inspires respect and confidence. I think a lot of it is the way he says things - it is reassuring but still somehow accurate.

I'll talk to John next and Delhi... a city of mysteries.