PANDIT
It had been long since the Pandit family of Dumsarai had cooked chicken for dinner in their backyard, in utensils different than the ones used in their daily life.
Traditionally, they were not supposed to have any sort of non-vegetarian food being a Hindu family and that, too, a Pandit by caste.
The lady of the house, the one who had three children, all boys, was the hyper-religious type.
She needed her entire collection of Gods, million they might have been, to be on her side to handle and manage all that opulence the God had given her.
And she liked to believe in this saying anyway, 'When God gives, you need to make sure he sticks around to keep giving.' This would have sounded even better coming from her mouth... in her dialect.
The lord - (or say the man) - of the house, the one who had helped the religious lady with the three children - all boys - was the hyper-anxious and stoic type and yes, also very religious.
He was once mere a priest of the nearest village but now he liked to believe that he was responsible for the restoration of whatever fragment of Hinduism was lost upon the generation.
He shook hands with a political party in his early days as a priest, called 'Jan Raksha Party' (People's Protection Party), and became the ambassador of the Hindu Sabhya Sangh, an organisational cult responsible for maintenance of Hindu religious traditions and beliefs among people across the country.
Since his ambassadorship limited him to his town only, he hoped one day one of his sons would take the leadership in the centre of the cult.
So you see how needed it was for him that JRP won the elections.
The backyard of the Pandit bhavan was wildly decorated in rudimentary style.
The fencing wall was mud polished mixed with cow dung, which provided it a long life against sun's scorching effect. The mud polished walls were further painted in primitive Bihari art.
West side of the wall carried a somewhat awkward representation of Lord Krishna calling out to his cows under a tree. You would think that such an art expression would not be possible on the mud and dung polished wall, well you're right. Lord Krishna looked like lord Krishna only when you were told it was Lord Krishna and the cow was a lucky combination of big circle, a tiny triangle and a long line.
The North Wall further extended the story of Lord Krishna. Here, he looked nothing like the previous Krishna. And he was under the same Mango tree, this time with not a cow but with a girl with a red stall over her head and she wanted to look at Krishna but her eyes were so poorly darted in the forward direction, it was not possible for her to behold her beloved.
Now, on the east wall was no painting. Or there was, a long time ago but now washed away. In the corner where the north and the east wall met was a hand pump that served the purpose of early morning bathing for Mr and Mrs Pandit, because they needed fresh water to bath for their morning prayers and the supply water would not come until six in the morning and their time of prayer was four.
And in the south was their two storey building, called Pandit bhavan.
They were very strict rule follower of their religion. The constitution was mere obstacle for them.
The only rule they cared about was the one their religion allowed and being the most famous and highest in caste hierarchy in the entire province of Dumsarai, Pandit ji got to make most of the rules.
...which was funny because flesh consumption was forbidden in their religion; and surrounded by gods from all sides, the male folk of the family circumvented the barbecue in the backyard.
The only problem the Pandit Ji faced was Amma Ji. She would not let him do his mind. There would be objections, discipline - which Pandit and his boys never knew when it came to their religion - and more stringent higher orders, power plays and much more mess. Pandit found it easier to stay in good graces of Amma Ji.
So the chicken was about cooked.
Golu, their house helper, an eighteen year old, stirred the pot of chicken steak and seated on the cot beside were three people.
Pandit ji chuckled thoughtfully. Bajrangi Pandit, the eldest son, had his face buried in the smart-phone. And the third member was the second of Pandit's sons, Kaushal Pandit was unhappily massaging his father's feet.
"Is it done, Pa?" asked Kaushal, now clearly annoyed by the feet massaging process.
"You didn't get the knee area. Why are you in such a hurry?" Pandit ji threw a disgustful glance towards his son. "You're finally of no use, are you? Go call your mother, my legs are still sore. Go get lost." Pandit ji returned to his thoughts while Kaushal gaily sprung from the cot and shot inside the house, calling for his mother.
Inside, on the dining table was the youngest of the Pandit's seeds, doing his homework. Kaushal stood by the kitchen door frame, "Ma, pa is calling you."
She looked up from her cooking. She was cooking something vegetarian for herself. "What for?"
Kaushal spoke out in very irritated manner, "I was massaging his feet for half an hour now and still he isn't done. He's calling for you."
"He's never done. I wonder if he's made of clay. Why doesn't he ask Bajrangi? Besides, Kaushal if you're not doing anything, help your brother with his homework," then she leaned on the doorframe to shout at Chhotu, the youngest son, who was not doing homework anymore but was engaged in a very thoughtful process of screwing his eraser right in the middle with his pencil.
"Chhotuaa," screamed his mother, stretching the last syllable to sound angry, "You're not getting your dinner, you little demon, not until you're done with your homework."
"I am, aren't I? I am breaking this eraser so I can use the other half later," chided Chhotu from the table.
"Kaushal, take him to the backyard. Get the table and chair outside and get his homework done. I don't want those bitches at his school writing complaint in his diary again." And then engaging in further work she said, "And tell your father I am not coming there, not in that bloodbath." She irked at the bloodbath, referring to the chicken.
Kaushal followed. Chhotu resisted a little but the ten year old succumbed once his brother picked him by his collar and dragged him to the backyard, along with his school bag.
"Kaushal, put your brother down. And where's your mother?" asked Pandit Ji who now was looking at something in Bajrangi's phone, while Bajrangi carefully waited, looming over his father.
"She said you should ask Bajrangi bhaiya to massage your feet, she is not coming in this bloodbath," Kaushal put his brother down in a chair and dragged a table to put the bag on and started helping his brother with his homework.
Bajrangi shot a vicious look at Kaushal as if he did not believe that mother would have actually said that. But Kaushal couldn't care less.
Bajrangi sprung to his feet, took his phone from under his father's face and said, "Okay pa, I'll massage your feet with a strong hand. Rest, you just feed Kaushal to grow up and be good for nothing."
"Aye, give me that thing. I was still watching." Pandit ji roared.
"Pa, battery is drained. Leave it. What would you do with a smart phone in an old age?" Bajrangi sat on the cot and started massaging his father's feet.
"Old? Your mother is called old. Not me. I am getting one of these things tomorrow. Goluaa, what are you, melting that chicken?"
"It's almost done Guru Ji." Golu replied, further tinkering with the pot of chicken.
Kaushal sat there, helping his brother with his homework while his father and older brother talked. He kept thinking to himself, whether or not to speak about the matter at hand to his father. He knew his father's response, what would it be. He'd favour that old bull anyway and call Kaushal good for nothing. But he had to try.
"Pa," Kaushal called.
"Yes, speak," his father said stopping his previous conversation to look at him.
"Tell Bajrangi bhaiya to stop coming to my college and terrorising everyone. He makes a scene every other day. He doesn't even study there anymore, why does he still come?"
Pandit Ji turned to Bajrangi, "You went there again?"
"So what...? Should I leave them to corrupt our culture? If I hadn't been there today, I wouldn't have found out about him," Bajrangi pointed towards Kaushal.
"Found out what about me? Pa, talking to girls is not against any culture. He saw me talking to Huma and he went there with his goons and slapped the girl right in her face before everyone," Kaushal threw the pencil he was holding on the table angrily.
His father spoke, "What in god's name were you doing talking to a Muslim girl? Are you so determined towards ruining the family's name? You are a member of Hindu Sabhya Sangh. Your father is the leader of the organisation. Why will people follow me if my own son goes around fucking a Muslim girl?"
"What the hell is wrong with you people? I was just asking her for notes. What does it have to do with religion?" Kaushal protested, chidingly.
"Son of the leader of Hindu Sabhya Sangh doesn't talk to Muslim girls, much less asking them for their help. I would do that again if I ever catch you talking to her," smirked Bajrangi.
On that note, Pandit Ji kicked Bajrangi with the same feet he was massaging. Bajrangi fell to the floor and rose up immediately, pissed.
"What did you do that for?"
"If you go around spreading terror in the open, Amma Ji will have you thrown out of the province. Or worse, she'll have you imprisoned. Once behind bars, nobody will ever respect you again." Pandit Ji always cared for Amma Ji and her wrath. "That's it. You're not taking the jeep for a week."
"But..." Bajrangi started to protest but he was dismissed with a wave of Pandit Ji's hand.
Pandit Ji turned to Kaushal, "And if you're so fiery with adolescence, go find a Hindu girl. And make sure not to be seen in open with any girl. Or I'll make sure the girl suffers." With that Pandit Ji rose from his cot and asked Golu to call him once he was done with Birbal ki Kichhdi, a common hindi phrase for things that take time, and shot for the front yard that connected the backyard with a slim alley that ran besides the two storey building.
"Kaushal bhaiya kisses a girl," Chhotu sang and started making kissing noises, teasingly.
Bajrangi stopped midway to that and gave Chhotu a disgusting look. Coincidently, Kaushal wore the same expression.
Kaushal said, "Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with you? Where are you learning these things from?" With that Kaushal hit Chhotu in the back of his head with a flick of his hand.
Bajrangi soon disappeared from the backyard as well.
Kaushal asked Golu, "Aye, when will that be done? I am starving," and then gave Chhotu a look who was writing something he had instructed him, "and stuck with this little creature. Be done both of you already."
Suddenly, Kaushal's ears sprang to attention as a Shushing sound tore through the air like a hiss. Golu and Kaushal both rose and walked to the west wall, where the sound had come from. The backyard light hung from the east wall that illuminated the whole centre but the extreme west remained in dark. Golu was the first to ask, "Who's there?"
A flashlight swished through the air and suddenly a face popped up above the wall.
"C'mon, give me a hand," the constable said.
Kaushal shook his head in exasperation, "Why don't you use the front door? You come here all the time."
"Not this time, it's risky," constable hissed, still hung from the wall. "Now help me in."
Kaushal and Golu helped the constable jump the wall. Having done so, Golu suddenly remembered something. He ran to the chicken pot and put the lid on it.
"What are you cooking?" asked the constable.
"Ah it's the cereals for the cows. Just boiling it," said the shrewd Golu.
"What is it? What are you doing sneaking up the wall Uncle, at this hour? You still on duty?" asked Kaushal.
"No. Call Guru Ji. I have something for him. Something that is going to change all our lives forever."
Constable was a stout and ever-in-haste man. Kaushal hated calling him Uncle, just for the sake of courtesy. He was a middle aged man, with almost no hair on his head.
He was called Shyam, mostly because his parents thought he had picked his dark skin after Lord Krishna, who also went by name Shyam. In Hindu mythology, Krishna is one of the bravest warrior, intellect and romancer of his time, none of which fit Shyam uncle.
He was a constable in the local police station and has licked Pandit Ji's boots for quite a long time now. Pandit Ji had a liking for lackeys and sychophants, it made him feel powerful, a little escape from the reality called Amma Ji.
Kaushal caught Golu's eyes and flicked his head in order. Golu immediately ran to fetch Pandit Ji.
"Why didn't you call or anything?" Kaushal asked.
"Why are you so bothered about my coming here?" constable narrowed his eyes, hastily grabbing a chair that stood by the hand pump.
"You are jumping our walls at..." Kaushal checked his phone, "at almost 11 o'clock in the night. I'm sorry I wasn't ready with a surprise party for you there on the wall."
"Don't worry kid. After hearing what I have to tell your father, you might as well throw me a party," smiled the constable victoriously. Kaushal looked away and sat in his seat before Chhotu.
Suddenly, constable added, seconds later, "But don't throw a party or anything, I was just making a point. I don't want people knowing that I am this close to your father and this family. Suspicions get aroused in peoples' minds around here."
You're not this close to this family. Pa is just using you as one of his spies around the town, you dumb man.
Kaushal smiled as he saw his father entering though the alley, "Nah. I won't throw you a party. Glad you told me because that was the first thing I was going to do after hearing your 'life-changing' news."
"When will the chicken be done, I am hungrrrry?" Chhotu chimed in with highest annoying intensity.
"Slurring the word doesn't make you hungrier. Just finish that writing before Ma shows up."
Pandit Ji entered and constable rose to greet him by touching his feet.
"Ayushman bhavah Shyam. What is it?" Pandit Ji said, puffing his chest as if with pride, blessing him long life.
"Are you making chicken Guru Ji?" asked the dumfounded constable, having heard Chhotu's whining.
"Nah, it's not for us. It's for the kid. He's got some heart condition, and you know these doctors recommending all heinous things for cure." Pandit Ji took his seat in the chair Golu had just put before constable.
Constable looked over his shoulder at Chhotu and smiled his incredulous smile as if he almost didn't buy it. But that was not what ruled his mind, so he got straight to the point.
"Guru Ji, I have a good and a bad news for you. It's big," constable said, further sinking in his chair as two cups of tea arrived in a tray before them.
"Take one first, news can wait" Pandit Ji told the constable. "And Golu put the tray down and remove that godforsaken thing from backyard. Its foul smell is making me feel unholy from inside."
"You mean the cow cereal Guru Ji?" asked Golu, eyeing Pandit Ji. Pandit clearly didn't understand what was happening.
Kaushal finally stirred the situation clear, "Golu, Shyam uncle knows it is chicken for Chhotu's health condition. Now remove it from there, it's done anyway."
"Okay," muttered Golu and dismissed from before the duo.
"No, you don't understand Guru Ji. This news can't wait. I might have to leave immediately. Before telling you this, I just need to confirm - you know that no one can know I was here tonight, right?"
Pandit Ji nodded.
Constable's face turned grim and he looked deep into Pandit Ji's eyes, "Amma Ji is dead. Assassinated. Murdered."
And the backyard fell silent. Golu stopped in his track, Kaushal sunk in his chair, Chhotu held his hand over his mouth, almost immediately, as if he was waiting for the slightest of the excuse to stop writing.
"What?" Pandit Ji's hand started shaking, spilling the tea.
"Yes. It happened last night. Dayanand called the station early morning today, asking for the Inspector sahib. I went with the Inspector there. They have asked the inspector to keep this news to himself only. Nobody, except the haveli knows this. It was gore. Her throat was sliced, she was naked as new born baby," constable stopped as Pandit Ji held a hand. He turned to his kids who were listening with rapt attention.
"You two, go inside. Go study inside. You don't have to be here for this," Pandit Ji ordered them. "And Golu, go fetch Bajrangi, seems like it's time to visit the minister's house tonight. Seems like it's time to trade a ticket in his party for this news," Pandit' eyes shone with ambitious light. There was not a pinch of sadness or remorse on his face. Golu immediately disappeared inside the house.
"This certainly is a good news, what did you say the bad news was, Shyam?" asked Pandit Ji.
"The murderer hung himself from her ceiling. He was....without clothes as well," as soon as the constable said that, Pandit Ji muttered under his breath, still audible for that silent atmosphere -
" - and she taught us character, that whore."
Pandit suddenly realised his kids hadn't left, "What the fuck are you two waiting for here? Get lost from here."
Bajrangi showed up at the door as Kaushal and Chhotu were ushering inside.
"Who was it?" asked Pandit Ji.
"Baniya's eldest son..."
Pandit Ji sunk further in his chair, sipping his tea. "That is more than a bad news Shyam. It's so bad that it's going to make us richer. I'm starting to believe that there is no such thing as bad news."
"What is it?" asked Bajrangi.
Kaushal and his brother settled themselves at the dining table again, listening intently.
"We are going to Minister's place. We leave immediately," Pandit Ji rose from his chair, handing over the tea cup to Golu.
Constable rose as well, "I should be leaving too Guru Ji. I have night duty tonight. I can't be missing too long. Hope this news was to your best interest."
"Shyam, you are a gem. Expect your daughter in this house soon," Pandit Ji smiled, patting constable's shoulders. That's what constable wanted. He was Bramhin, Pandit family was Bramhin; constable had a daughter, Pandit had Bajrangi. There was nothing a lowly posted constable could want more than to marry off her daughter into a rich household.
"She is lucky. And... that much chicken is too much for a child Guru Ji." Constable smiled, getting the chicken thing and soon disappeared beyond the wall as it was already approximately near midnight.
Golu still hadn't removed the chicken pot.
"Pa, tell me," Bajrangi reiterated.
"Go get the jeep ready, I'll fill you in en route."
***