Saturday, February 20, 2016

Intelligence - Part 4 of the short story series 'Missing'

                   The constable carried me on his shoulders. I could see behind his back. I saw many kids younger than me. They were lean and had mud all over them. There were small babies who were sleeping in the dirty ramshackle of the make-shift huts. This particular scene made me cry and made me realize that something bad would happen to me. To get out of this situation, I started shouting and crying at the top of my voice but there was no one noticing me. My cry grew louder and louder. All of a sudden,  I felt a prick on my neck and became unconscious!

                   I woke up and found no one around. The place was dark with bad odor. Sunlight barged in through the small bullet holes on the door. I went closer to the door. Through those holes, I could see the pain lashed on kids. There were two men behind a small statured person who was in whites and had gold chains around his neck. He was the boss. Though he was only 5 4, his persona was scary. The way he grinned his teeth, itself scares the hell out of anyone. His elbows had big scars and those were ostentatious. There was a tattoo on the broad side of his right elbow. It was not visible clearly. As I was looking through those holes, he turned towards the door. 

           He ordered his men to get me. They walked towards the door. My spirit did not die yet and I was waiting for those bloody goons to open the door. Having watched Chota Bheem daily, I was pretty sure I would tackle them. As told by my mother, every kid has the strength of Anjaneya Swamy(Hanuman) and intelligence of Lord Krishna, I particularly felt that I had some special powers. Convinced, I made a plan to run as fast as Usain Bolt and as swift as an Eagle. Even if one of those bulldogs hold me, I would beat him blue and red. But the reality was different. I ran as soon as one of the big guys opened the door. The second guy caught my hand. I bit him with my teeth. This made him angry,  he immediately slapped me on my face. His hand hit me very hard. I could not hear a thing. All I could feel was the tears rolling on my cheeks. No one ever hit me. All the strength this Chota Bheem had vanished in the air. As my ears started working again, I puked. I was unable to control my emotions. I was crying like those helpless kids. 

           The small guy in the whites walked towards me. I still could not see his tattoo as my eyes were moist. I heard him saying to other 2 guys to not to break any bone and put me onto picking up plastic waste. The 2 big guys took some days to train my mind so that I listen to them. I was a bird in the cage and I danced to their tunes. There was no escape. I was first put to pick up plastic along the Gandhi road under supervision of fellow pickers. Then in the subsequent days, we were moved to KT Road. What I understood from this, was that they were trying to brainwash me. But I missed my mother's love and father's helping hands. I kept looking around to find ways to escape. But I could not. I did not find any platform. All these days, I never spoke to anyone as I did not believe anyone. I was kept told a story. The story was that my poor uncle was taking care of me after I lost my parents in an accident. That poor uncle did not have money to provide food for his family and me. I resorted to begging/picking to help his family. Apart from the story, there was an actual uncle, aunt and his kids. All arranged by the mafia.



           11 days passed. I was dark and dusted. No one could recognize me. I became deaf and dumb by choice. I was reduced to nothing but a picking machine. The head was convinced that I was part of his team. He put me to begging at Sandhya Theatre. Though I felt uncomfortable, a girl child was dragging me to every place. She was given more money because I was with her. You can imagine how I looked. I was lean and looked like a hanging skeleton. I saw missing posters near the theater. The posters were mine! My photo, my age, contact to call and a message were on the poster. But again, I was not looking like what I was 12 days back. But I pull down one of the posters and kept in my pocket. I did not know at that moment that it was the most intelligent step I have taken after all these days wasted.

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