The car chugged silently at 30 km per hour slowing down at the speed breaker. Annie Lennox haunting "Love song for a vampire" filtered through the rear speakers occupying the mental reverie of the occupants. The track switched to Beyonce's 'Halo' as the car sped past the speed breaker. 'I didn't think you listen to commercial music" smiled Mamta. "You thunk wrong", murmured Madhu as he switched the track yet again. He noticed a small crowd at the side of the road and slowed down. Two boys were arguing loudly, presumably about their cricket match in progress. Madhu smiled and was about to change gears when one boy swung the cricket bat to the other boy's head with the teams both, booing cheering in. Mamta screamed as Madhu's head suddenly crashed against the dashboard swerving the car to the right. He automatically pulled the brake before his mental synapses crashed and transmitted him into the hidden recesses of forbidden memories.
It was 1992. Bandra was burning. The Babri masjid demolition post-mayhem had shut and sewn Mumbai completely. Spires of flames engulfed the skies as far as Madhu and his team could see. Perched on the wall governing the boundary of the cricket ground and Western Express highway between Bandra and Santacruz, the 15 year old was sucking up a pepsi with his chums post the match. The ground overlooking the nearby cemetery was located between his house and the school. It served as the perfect hangout after school for games and post-school activities. With schools shut till further notice and the cricket ground empty as well, it was just perfect for the 15 year olds to play all day long. Madhu could see Ramesh, the local self professed 16 year old school don from Building number 7 standing with his cronies all wearing Moslem skull caps on the 'Hindu' side of the highway. Ramesh and his gang were notorious for violence, theft and robbery in the school - the type you don't invite home ever. But they were cool with Madhu for some unexplained reason. "Why are they wearing Moslem caps?" asked Bipin. "Fuck knows", snapped Madhu still smarting from the earlier game loss. "Perhaps Baba can explain this anomaly". "What's an anomaly?" queried Vinu, the youngest in the team. A glare from Madhu was enough to kill the question. And so they were shooting the breeze and making idle drama when Shafeeq, their 14 year old 'Moslem' cricket pal suddenly emerged from gutter pipe below the wall like Phoenix from the ashes. Looking at the scared faced Shafeeq covered with dirt and completely wet from his prolonged stay in the gutter, it occurred to Madhu to help him quickly reach the "Moslem" side of the highway where he would be safe. But a tad too late.
Lulled of the false sense of safety by the skull caps, Shafeeq hurried to one of Ramesh's cronies and pleaded, "Bhai, mere ko Behrampada mein ghar le chalo jaldi. Do din se maa ko nahin mila hoon. Idhar meri gaand fat rahi hain Hindu log se." (Brother, please take me home to Behrampada. I haven't met mom since two days. I am getting scared of the Hindus here). It was over in a couple of blinks. In his mind's eye Madhu could see Ramesh and his two cronies guiding Shafeeq by the collar down the sloping road to the remote corner. Before Madhu could scramble to his feet and warn Shafeeq, one of the cronies swung the heavy cricket bat with full force at the back of his head. The front of Shafeeq's head exploded like a watermelon by the impact while his body still hurried furtively in motion, trusting Ramesh bhai to take him home. "Noooooooooooooooooo", the scream built up and died a natural death inside Madhu's throat replaced by bile and lunch remains to be spewed over at the side.
With a jerk Madhu’s eyes popped open to take in the haze of the crowd and Mamta all cooing over him. Heard someone muttering to take him to the hospital or home. Shafeeq was buried under the cover of night in the cricket ground, but perhaps no one told his mom that the 14 year old would never come home again.
Current Music - Don Mclean - Vincent
