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.

A Trial with A Lawyer

The courtroom rang out with the resonance of the sound of the gavel hitting the hard oak table. The crowd rose at the magnificent entrance of the large man from the hidden doorway. Dressed in a white shirt and a black cape, he walked with unhurried demeanor to his cushioned seat. Half mooned spectacles hanging around his thick neck, the porky wrinkled man looked around at the waiting throng and sat down slowly.

There in front of him stood two people dressed smartly in black suits, one sporting rimless glasses which gave a very learned look. Breaking the silence, he said,” Good morning, Your Honor.”

“A good morning to you as well,” said the Honorable Judge Simmons in a sweet drawl. Continuing in a voice lined with impatience he said,” Now are you both smart-asses going to dilly dally in my court or will you get to work.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry for the delay,” replied the two in meek voices.

Facing his opponent in the face, Frank Barnes, aged 32 with a balding head and his rimless glasses, started off with his arguments. His suit, tailored to perfection, and shoes, polished till even a dot of dust didn’t remain on them, shone brightly even in the dim lights of the courtroom. His receding hairline shone with oil and gleamed along with the whole of his self as his artificial smile pleasured the judge and made his opponent sweat.

Leaving the case aside, which talked about a DUI and had no space left for the defense to protest and to walk away scot free, the two lawyers were the best of friends. Being in the business for the last decade, Frank and Jensen had graduated together out of college. But, it was Frank who had outspoken Jensen and had worked his way to the top.

Jensen, at the same age, was dressed in a suit without a name on the lapel. A disheveled shirt under his ironed suit, he looked as though he hadn’t eaten well since a long time. Red eyes and a puffed up faced magnified his hangover and the long night he had gone through. Ruffling his sheaf of papers, he stood up and started off his own argument in opposition to his classmate.

The day walked on at its own pleasurable speed and strolled through with its breaks for lunch and coffee. The clock rang out at its customary time and thankfully signaled the end of the day for all those present in the stuffy room.

Shaking hands, the two friends walked out. Getting behind the wheels of their vehicles, Jensen with his tattered jalopy, and Frank in his shiny BMW SUV, they started through the driveway of the courthouse.

Bang! All that remained was the destroyed bumper of the black BMW. A broken headlight on the jalopy accompanied this huge dent. Getting out of his car, Frank walked back to survey the damage, with red in his face. Hurriedly rushing his old van out of the way, Jensen raced past the scene of the accident with Frank angrily shaking his arm. The bulletin which ran on the Evening News was that a lawyer had been found dead in his car, which had been hammered beyond recognition, and it was originally a 1986 Jalopy.

Woken up in the dead of the night by a mysterious knocking on the door, Frank Barnes walked out from his soft bed and opened the red teak door to his condominium apartment situated on Beach Road.

“Mr. Barnes, please co-operate with us. We would like to take you in for questioning about the murder of your friend and opponent in your latest case, Mr. Jensen Ames,” said the uniformed police officer.

Shocked and stunned, the distinguished lawyer drove away with them; only to be driven to the court in the same car with the same flashing lights. But the difference was that he would be the one being tried.