Six Suspects

'Who did this to you?' I cry.

'There was a big fight in the house on the day of my birthday. Ram Singh spilled the beans about my affair with you. My father threatened to shoot me. But it was Vicky who actually hit me.'

An incandescent rage begins building inside me. 'How dare he do this to you?' I seethe. 'I will kill him.'

'Now I have been forbidden from leaving the house and my mobile has been confiscated,' Ritu adds. 'Luckily Malini came to meet me today and managed to bring me here. I wanted to warn you to be very careful. Your life could be in danger.'

'But what about your life? The butchers in your house are quite capable of killing you.'

'It is a woman's fate to suffer. But I have taken one courageous decision at least. I have told my father that I will not marry Kunwar Inder Singh, even if he kills me. That alliance was arranged by my father only to further his political agenda. I refuse to become a pawn in his dirty game.'

'Then marry me.'

'My family will never allow me to marry you.' Ritu slowly shakes her head. 'But I have made it clear that I shall not marry anyone else either.'

'Then marry me against your family's wishes. We could go to a temple right now. Once we are legally married, your father won't be able to do a thing. The police will protect us.'

She gives a hollow laugh. 'I have seen how police officers quake on hearing my father's name. They will be the first ones to drag me back to him.'

'Then what are our options, Ritu?'

'None. They say in books that all's fair in love and war. But I have seen with my own eyes, nothing is fair in either, Munna. Our love is a prohibited one.'

'Just because you belong to a high caste and I don't? I do not agree with you,' I challenge her. 'Forty years ago my mother and I were called Untouchables. We wouldn't have been allowed inside the temple. Today she not only works there, she also lives there. And no one dares call us Untouchable.'

'But let her come to our house with your marriage proposal and then see what happens.'

'What will happen? At best your family will say no.'

'Don't be naive, Munna. You know what they did to that poor Muslim boy who dared to marry the daughter of an industrialist in Kolkata. They killed him.'

'But I am not Muslim.'

'Then take a look at this newspaper report.' She produces a crumpled news clipping from her handbag. It is from some Hindi newspaper.

'What does it say?'

'It says that two young lovers were lynched in Uttar Pradesh because they belonged to different castes. Nineteen-year-old Pritam and eighteen-year-old Sonu were hanged one after the other from the roof of a house in their village. He was a high-caste Brahmin, while she was a member of a lower-caste community. Hundreds of people watched as the couple were hanged. What is even more gruesome is the fact that the boy's and the girl's parents not only sanctioned the punishment, but even watched as their children swung from the makeshift gibbet.' She shudders as she reads.

'I don't care if they kill me. I still want to marry you.'

'But I care, Munna, I care. If my brother can do this to me, his own sister, think what he could do to you.'

'You exaggerate unnecessarily.' I wave my hand. 'I am not scared of Vicky Rai.'

At that precise moment my mobile phone trills. This surprises me because the only person other than me who knows this number is Ritu. I press the Talk button and an unknown voice breathes down the line. 'Motherfucker, listen to me carefully. My name is Vicky Rai. And you have dared to raise your eyes to my sister Ritu. Now I will carve you up like a pig, I will break every bone in your body and then I will feed your carcass to my dogs. Get it?'

The line is disconnected and the air inside the room becomes noticeably colder. Ritu doesn't hear the message, but from the expression on my face she guesses the identity of the caller immediately. 'It was my brother, wasn't it?'

'Yes,' I reply, still reeling with shock. 'How did he get my number?'

'He must have taken it from my mobile. What did he say?'

'He threatened to kill me.'

'Oh my God!' she says and buries her face in her hands. There is complete silence in the room for a couple of minutes. Then she raises her head and I see her lips curved into an expression of grim determination. 'Now there is only one option left for us. We have to run away,' she declares.

'I agree,' I say and clutch her hand. 'We must think of our future together.'

'But how will we survive? I don't have any money.'

'I have enough to support both of us.'

'How much?' she asks.

'Much more than you can imagine. I promise that you will not lack anything.'

'Where will we run to?'

'Pick any city you like.'

'I have always wanted to visit Mumbai.'

'So have I. Let's go to the station right now and catch a train.'

'No. If we do that, Malini will be in a lot of trouble.'

'Then when should we go?'

'I know the perfect date. Vicky is having a big party on 23 March to celebrate his acquittal. There will be nearly five hundred people in the house and in that mêlée I will manage to slip out. Wait for me just outside the service entrance of Number Six. It is on the side path perpendicular to the main road. I will come out at exactly eleven p.m. Then we will take a taxi to the railway station and escape to Mumbai.'

'Excellent. I will get two tickets for Mumbai ready.'

Our pact is made and I know that a new phase of my life is about to begin. The future, which was nebulous till now, appears to be acquiring a definite shape. I am looking forward to living in Mumbai. They say it is the city of dreams. It has made people living on pavements film stars and industrialists overnight. Who knows what it might have in store for me.

I am tempted, on returning to the temple, to go to the sanctum sanctorum and prostrate myself before Lord Shiva. This seems like an appropriate occasion to end my tiff with God and seek his blessings. I even climb up the marble steps. In the face of Ritu's love, the songs of Bollywood have begun to seem real to me. I have begun to believe that there might be justice in this world after all. But a tiny voice in my head continues to hold me back. Where was God when those young lovers were being hanged? Was he powerless to stop the murders? Or was he himself a mute spectator to the atrocity?

I go to the railway booking office and purchase two first-class train tickets for Mumbai. The Punjab Mail will leave Delhi at 05:30 on 24 March and take Ritu and me straight to Mumbai Central.

I consider what to do with Champi and Mother. Champi appears to be completely smitten by that tribal. Every day I catch her sitting on the bench, chatting to him animatedly. And for the first time I actually hear her full-throated laugh. I don't grudge her that small happiness. And I feel it is time I informed Mother of my plan.

'Three days from now I am going to Mumbai,' I tell her.

'So suddenly?' she asks. 'Is it because of your work?'

'No. To tell you the truth, I'm getting married.'

'Oh! And who is the girl, if I may ask?'

'Her name is Ritu.'

'And does she live in Mumbai?'

'No, she lives in Delhi. In Mehrauli, in fact.'

'So is she one of the maids from the Sanjay Gandhi slum?'

'They are worthless trash, Mother, that I wouldn't even dream of marrying. Your prospective daughter-in-law belongs to one of the richest and most powerful families in the country.'

'You dream too much, Munna.'

'No, Mother. This is real. Ritu and I are getting married and moving to Mumbai. As soon as we get settled there I will send for both of you. Then Champi can have her operation. And you can finally take some well-deserved rest.'

Mother becomes instantly suspicious. 'Why are you going to Mumbai if the girl is from Delhi? Are you two eloping?'