Eketi nursed his cheek. 'Do you like hitting people?'
Pandey shrugged. 'If you don't hit, you don't convict. We are forced to work this way. And then it becomes a bad habit, just like eating betel nut.'
'So you hit people to show your strength?'
'Actually, it is not to prove our strength, but to mask our weakness,' the Inspector said with surprising candour. 'We pick only on the poor and the powerless, because they cannot hit back.'
They did not exchange another word for several hours. As the train thundered through the night, the Inspector reclined in his berth, deep in thought. Eketi sat by the open window, feeling the cold draught on his swollen cheeks like a soothing balm. Suddenly the Inspector tapped him on the shoulder. 'I have decided to do something silly,' he exhaled, and reached for his leather holster.
A bolt of fear shot through Eketi's body. 'Are you… are you going to kill me?' he asked, feeling a constriction in his throat.
'That would be too easy.' The Inspector smiled for the first time as he took out a key from the holster.
'Then what?'
'I am going to set you free.'
Eketi looked him in the eye. 'Are you playing a game with me?'
'No, Eketi. This is not a game.' Pandey shook his head slowly. 'This is your life. And it is not very different from mine. Like you, I also feel suffocated at times, working in a job where I meet the scum of society day in and day out. But occasionally I do manage to wipe the tears off a widow's face or put a missing child back into his mother's lap. These are the moments I live for.'
Eketi gazed out of the window. In the near distance his eyes encountered only a whizzing, velvety darkness. But close to the horizon he could see the bright lights of some distant city.
'I have two young sons,' the Inspector continued. 'They think their father is a hero, fighting criminals and killers. But I am just an ordinary man battling the system, mostly losing. I know you are innocent. So releasing you will be a small victory.' He looked at his watch.'We should now be on the outskirts of Varanasi. I want you to pull this-' he pointed at the emergency chain above his head. 'This will stop the train. Then I want you to get down from the compartment and disappear into the night. I will tell everyone that you escaped while I was sleeping.'
'Why are you doing this?'
'To keep alive your dream. To keep alive my children's dream. If you arrive with me in Patna, you are going to rot in jail for at least five years, pending trial. So run away when you still have the chance.'
'But where will I run to?'
'You cannot do better than Varanasi. People come here to die. I am sending you there to live.' He inserted the key in Eketi's handcuffs and opened them. 'But remember,' he raised a finger, 'ours is a strange and sublime land. You can meet the best people in the world here and the worst. You can experience unparalleled kindness and witness extraordinary cruelty. To survive here, you must change your way of thinking. Don't trust anyone. Don't count on anyone. Here you are entirely on your own.'
'Then maybe I should return to my island,' Eketi mumbled as he massaged his wrists where the handcuffs had cut into the skin.
'That is for you to decide. Life can be ugly. Or it can be beautiful. It all depends on what you make of it. But whatever you do, stay clear of the police. Not all inspectors are like me.'
'Will you get into trouble for letting me go?'
'The department will probably file yet another case of incompetence and negligence against me. I don't care any longer. I am out of the rat race. But you may just be joining it. Good luck, and don't forget to take your bag.'
As Eketi draped the fake Adidas across his shoulder, Pandey took out some notes from his shirt pocket. 'Take this. It will help you get by for a few days.'
'I will not forget you,' said Eketi, as he accepted the money, his eyes filling with tears.
The Inspector gave him a wan smile and briefly squeezed his hand. 'Now don't just stand there weeping like a donkey, sisterfucker. Yank that damn chain,' he said gruffly, and pulled up a fawn blanket over his head.
Eketi's legs ached. For over two hours he had run non-stop, cutting through dense sugarcane fields and sleepy villages in pursuit of the gleaming lights of the city. Now he was in Chowk, the congested heart of Varanasi, but the twinkling lights had been snuffed out and the bustling streets were empty. An uncanny silence reigned in the area, interrupted only by a stray dog or a car. Beggars slept on pavements underneath shuttered shops. A posse of policemen stood guard in front of an ancient temple.
The only spark of life in the city at this hour was a brightly lit all-night pharmacy. Eketi crept behind a parked jeep and observed the manager drowsing behind a wooden counter, surrounded by glass shelves loaded with boxes and bottles.
A woman arrived and nudged the manager into wakefulness. A couple of minutes later she stepped out of the pharmacy, clutching a brown paper packet, and Eketi had his first glimpse of her face. She was the strangest-looking woman he had ever seen. Almost as tall as Ashok, her eyes were lined with dark kohl, her cheeks were caked in cheap rouge and her lips were painted deep red, but her flat jaw and square chin gave her a manly countenance. She wore a red-and-green sari with an ill-fitting yellow blouse. Her hands were large and hairy. In fact, Eketi could even see a thin line of hair which began from her navel and disappeared into her blouse.
Consumed with curiosity, he began following her. She went through silent back streets littered with rubbish, along dark alleys and cobbled, winding paths, and emerged eventually at the mouth of a crowded, lively street. There were ancient, double-storey houses on both sides of the road, with intricately carved balconies which resonated with music and the tinkling of dancers' ankle bells. On the ground below, women with hard faces and vacant eyes, some only wearing low-cut blouses and petticoats, leaned against shadowy doorways and beckoned passers-by with provocative smiles. There was a corner paan shop where a man doled out ready-made triangles of betel leaf, a stall selling bread pakoras, and even a store for pre-paid phone cards. The smells of jasmine perfume and fried food mingled in the thick humid air. While the rest of the city was fast asleep, the residents of this street were having a party.
'Welcome to Dal Mandi,' a man wearing a lungi and tank top accosted Eketi. 'Would you like to try our goods?' Behind him, a girl in a pink sari giggled. But Eketi took no notice of her, intent only on following the woman who was now walking purposefully towards the far end of the street. The road ended in a T-junction where she turned right into another alley. Eketi turned right too.
Suddenly she whirled around and caught Eketi by his right hand.
'Why are you following me? Do you think I am a prostitute?'
Taken completely by surprise, Eketi struggled to free himself from her grip, which was as strong as a man's. 'Mujhe chhod do! Leave me!' he cried.
She looked at him closely. 'Who are you, you little black devil?'
'First you tell me, what are you?'
'What kind of question is that?'
'I mean are you a man or a woman?'
She chuckled. 'This is the question which everyone wants answered. Some men are even prepared to pay to find out.'
'I… I don't understand.'
'My name is Dolly. I am the leader of the hinjras.'
'Hinjra? What's that?'
'You have not heard of eunuchs? Which planet are you from?'
'I honestly don't know about eunuchs.'
'We are the third sex. Between male and female.'
Eketi's eyes opened wide. 'Neither man nor woman. How is that possible?'
'In our country, everything is possible.' Dolly waved her hand. 'But tell me about yourself. Who are you? Where are you from?'
'I am Jiba Korwa from Jharkhand.'
'Jharkhand, eh? I used to have a friend called Mona. She was from Jharkhand too, but not as dark as you. Now she has gone to try her luck in Bombay.'