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...)