A Simple Task

Night in Mumbai. It was not viable. As the clock pushed on the new day, the road still buzzed with steady traffic. Saturday night revelers returning home after fun with their buddies, late night office goers trudging back home in their cars, and some of the late night workers waited at the signal, which still blinked incessantly. Overseeing this whole monotonous activity, there stood a solitary man in a Pathani Suit and Mojdis; with a Blackberry phone in his hand and his penetrating eyes looking out to the sea. There near the pedestrian walkway stood his car, a black BMW sedan; and along with the cars moving past, a policeman on a motorcycle raced ahead. The car attracting his attention, he stopped and called in the details.

The radio near the steering wheel spouted out the information, and Constable Nilesh Khan put the car into gear. Just a bit above 6 feet, Nilesh Khan had been put to traffic duty for misconduct and rashness in his work, again. Never having solved his enmity with his anger, Nilesh now had 2 divorces under his belt and also sported various black marks on his police chart for manhandling prisoners and for fighting with his colleagues. A strict Muslim by religion, Nilesh wore a beard on his face and as he pushed off from the impound lot; the only thought in his mind was that this was going to be an easy task. A smile lit his face at the thought of taking a few rounds on the soundless engine of the BMW he was supposed to pick up; but it lay there unseen by the passing drivers, under his thick beard.

“We are nearing the location, can you see us now,” asked the voice on the phone in hushed tones.

“No, I can’t. Can’t you just hurry up a bit and race in,” said the impatient Rashid Lala into his Blackberry.

“And bring the Coast Guards with us? Dada was right, you sure are a knuckle-head, and it’s just the money which has made us take your help.”

Angry at this retribution, Rashid cut off the line and continued staring in to the darkness of the horizon and at the reflected image of the moon in the sea water. His hand unknowingly touched the metal contraption which lay immobile in his belt, and the thought which flicked in his mind was that he would have to teach these young boys a lesson. They would have to learn to respect him! Anger filled him and his eyes gathered more penetrating strength.

The police towing van paced through the traffic. Weaving through with ease under the control of Constable Khan, the vehicle was bound to reach its destination within the next 10 minutes. Patching in to Beat Marshall Nitin Kumar, he announced his position and his ETA to the target. Turning onto the Worli Seaface Road, which had become the busiest roads all throughout the day after the creation of the Sealink, he was surprised to see a trawler move towards the shore, with just a single cabin light on. Shaking his head, he concentrated on the task at hand and drove faster to his dream car.

A light shone in the distance. Dialing the number on his phone, Rashid roared into it,” I see you idiots. Now make it quick. I’m standing on the parapet, when you see me, slow down and follow me. I’ll guide you to a safe mooring spot. Then we can all ride away safely in my vehicle.”

“Don’t shout. Someone may hear you. And you call us idiots,” came back the reply, in a scornful voice. In the backdrop, a police officer with flashy clothes got down from his bike and waved to a police-issue towing van. Nitin Kumar got down and shook hands with Nilesh Khan.

“What an idiot to leave a BMW on the open road. I would not leave such a car alone even in a garage,” said Nilesh as Nitin chuckled.

“None of our concern. Let’s complete our job and head back to our stations,” said Nitin with a wink.

Taking the hook from the van and attaching it to the posh sedan, Nitin stepped back as Nilesh revved the engine of his van. As the coupled cars moved forward, Rashid turned to see catastrophe. Already angered by the antics of his comrades, he rushed towards his car; abuses flying freely out of his mouth. And the vehicles stopped their progress forward. The task at hand had just taken a new turn.

The boat finally reached the parapet, and seeing their navigator walk away, the occupants jumped off onto the coast as well. Alarmed by the flashing lights on the bike, and the angry Rashid shouting at two cops, they stood at the ready; with their arms inside their carry-bags, assembling the machinery they carried.

Unwilling to change, Nilesh’s nature took better off him and he got down. Flexing his arms, he gained on the shouting Rashid as Nitin tried to hold the duo away from each other. Shoving aside the Marshall, Nilesh flung his arms. Blood spewed out from the wealthy man’s nose as he pulled out his gun.

His eyes widening at the turn of the events, Nilesh pushed Rashid away, and gathering Nitin, ran towards his vehicle. As he got into the driving seat, he knew what his easy task had transformed into. He said his prayers as he pressed hard on the gas. The car did not budge. Two trickles of blood flew onto the flooring of the vehicle as the device in the hand of the man with the bag vibrated. There was no guilt in his eyes, nor any mercy; he just did it with ease.

Two bursts of gunfire, shrieks, and incessant honking replaced the sound of the police siren. A BMW sedan vanished with the traffic into the distance. There was no evidence of what had just happened. It had just been an easy task; for whom that was the question.