It was 8’o clock of that foggy december evening.
Shiva was staring at the narrow ‘puliya’ for more than a minute now. It was a makeshift bridge made with cement sacks and red bricks held loosely with a metal wire over govindpuri drainage. The puliya was the only link connecting Shahi basti to the capital city.
Underneath it, ran black water with plastic waste, animal carcass and human excreta, all flowing eventually to meet the Yamuna. The metro station was hardly hundred meters away and despite the fog, one with a decent eye sight could read the train’s destination station displayed on the driver’s coach.
Shiva stood behind the first cement sack, measuring her chances. The stench over there was overwhelming but she continued to stare at the dimly lit basti situated at the other end of the bridge. With a hand pressing her nose with a handkerchief and the other holding a bag, Shiva began to walk.
But all of sudden, she noticed a billboard hanging on a nearby electricity pole-
'Jinnnat Babaji- one stop solution for the disheartened lot. Come to me if all other means have failed to fulfil your inner desires. What doctors fail to do, I can do it with my djinn.’’
Babaji was making news in the slum. A 55 year old tantric who claimed to possess a genie in his body had created an uproar in the locality with his theatrics. Fables of his antics had been doing circles with people claiming that he eventually possessed his clients and punished them if they failed to do what he asked. And they weren’t just rumours.
12 year old Karim, who ran a small cycle repair shop in the basti, was missing for the past few weeks. His mother, a migrant from Mirzapur in Bangladesh, had consulted babaji to get rid of her son’s addiction to charas. Babaji had asked for Karim to be put in his supervision for two days as he claimed that the ‘djinn’ would eventually get rid of ‘shaitan’ charas dwelling in the body of the boy.
Four days later, Karim was nowhere to be found. Faruqa, his mother, was told by babaji’s aides that the ‘charas shaitan’ in her son’s body was defeated by the djinn but babaji couldn’t stop Karim from running away.
“It was for his own good”, was the tantric’s answer.
Nobody in the basti could dare to inform the police. That was the one hard and fast rule of Shahi basti. Police help was out of bounds. Yes, the rickshaw pullers, street hawkers, eunuchs and low level peddlers did pay the cops their regular cut but the police was prohibited to enter the basti. The local MLA, a sitting politician for 10 years, never really took notice of the slum. For him, his territory ended at the puliya that connected shahi basti to his constituency.
A long and distant horn from the nearby metro train finally disrupted Shiva’s thoughts. It was this babaji from whom she had to extort the pending drug money for her boss.
She knew exactly what babaji’s fabled djinn was.
Clients who visited babaji’s clinic were given small but regular doses of cocaine that resulted in extreme hallucinations. Babaji’s aides would then demand money from the client’s relatives in order to shoo away the ‘shaitan’ that had dwelled in the body of their loved ones. The de-addiction phase would last for days until the patient was strong enough to walk on his own. That was one grand façade that babaji ran with the help of Shiva who regularly supplied him cocaine smuggled from neighboring states.
Shiva started walking over the narrow puliya, carefully lifting her saree to ankle length, stepping over one cement sack to another until she reached the basti.
Babaji’s clinic was located at the end of the narrow dingy lane and surrounded by a few kaccha houses and an age old minaret. As she walked through the grimy lane in the dark, Shiva could recollect little memories of the time she had spent here.
Nothing had changed from the day she left shahi basti to look for better livelihood means. The minaret still reminded her of the folk songs her mentor used to sing staring at the broken, rustic glass art that was attached on the roof top. And she used to rehearse with him day and night dreaming in that minaret of a childhood she wished she had.
Though she never wanted to leave the basti but what livelihood chances a eunuch had in those days. Neighbors suspected her of witchcraft and what not. Children mocked her and threw stones at her whenever she stepped out of her kaccha hut.
But in her heart, she knew this basti was too small for her wings. Packing her little trunk, she walked over the little puliya to work with a group of gypsy eunuchs at local platforms and bus stations….
There was a firm knock on the rusty old door. A yellow coloured pamphlet of the bearded babaji was stuck on it.
The door was opened by his aide Lalla, a strongly built man in his forties.
“why are you here?”
“had to meet babaji. My sahib wanted to discuss new consignment.”
“wait here.”
After a minute or so, Shiva was finally let inside.
Babaji’s little den comprised of two three carpets laid across the floor and a small tube light flickering on the roof top. His clinic smelled of bleach and it appeared as if the rooms were scrubbed with soap water every few hours.
A short heighted man, wrapped in a thick shawl walked in the room. He limped from his left leg taking measured steps towards Shiva.
This was babaji.
The fabled tantric who could cure any possible disease, illness or disability known to mankind. Though his limping appeared slightly ironic compared to his superfluous claims.
“Shiva, my child. Why have you come here? ”
“I know. I am not here to deliver maal. Sahib wanted to discuss something important.”
“Say”
“Not in front of Lalla. Tell your dog to wait outside.”
‘Clink’, Lalla drew out his knife. Babaji gave him a stare and Lalla was out of the room in a second.
“well, begin now. ”
“Sahib has asked for the pending money. ”
“Business is tight these days. As they say, ‘hawa garam hai’. I need a few more weeks.”
“no. nothing. You will deliver the money right now. ”
“what is the urgency, beta?”
“sahib’s mood swings. I don’t know, I don’t care. But I need the payment now.”
Babaji began to laugh. The deafening echo pierced through her eardrums.
“what makes you think that Shera will be humbled by a filthy eunuch? You little piece of shit, I won’t pay your sahib a single dime. He thinks he can remain hidden behind the curtains while her little bitch, this cheap whore, runs the drug show? I fucking know who he is. Vilas Mehta, MLA sahib from govindpuri constituency. Your sahib!” thundered babaji.
Shiva felt a slight shiver down her spine. She could hear the slow whistle of a pressure cooker from the neighbouring house. She had drawn the first blood and she knew it.
“enough of this shit”, said Shiva drawing out a country made pistol from her bag.
Babaji gasped in horror. His eyes twitched as sweat drops from his forehead fell on it. He slowly put his hand on his twisted left leg.
Shiva’s eyes were shivering with rage but her body was still as a rock. True to her name, she, at that moment, resembled a creation of contradictions.
And it was her wrath more than the gun that was terrorizing babaji. Lalla was probably standing outside his house but it was impossible to alert him without letting Shiva go berserk on him.
“put the gun down shiva beta.”. he pleaded in a meek voice.
The old tantric who was thundering moments ago had turned into a meek rabbit.
“No, I won’t. I am not here for the money anyway. I am here to kill you. What did you do with Karim? That little boy you gave charas gola every other day for free and turned him into an addict. Tell me.”, she raged.
“How does it matter to you? You have been sending maal to us through your courier eunuchs and street magicians since years. Why do you care who we sell it to. ”
“Shut up you old fuck. You have been running organ racket in your little clinic and you think no one will notice. You skinned that little Karim like a pig and then sold his parts to an agent. Didn’t you? In fact, you are the reason behind those missing children from the nearby villages. You lure them to the minaret and then have them drugged. And that dog of yours, lalla, he does the ugly part of hacking and disappearing the body. Right? ”, she yelled at him.
“Does Sahib wants me dead too, Shiva.? ”
“Yes. He got to know about Karim. And he has send me to kill you. You raise your voice even for a secondw and I’ll start pumping your body with bullets. You know shiva doesn’t give empty threats. ”
“That’s a lie. Vilas sahib wouldn’t give a fuck about that little Bangladeshi rat or other gutter rats getting disappeared. You know why? Because he was the one providing me dealers for my little business with organ doctors. You see, sahib never really thought of you as anything more than a cheap eunuch. For how many years have I been a customer for you? Why has the eunuch who could part her legs even for pigs and dogs started behaving as sita. I knew your mentor, that half man you used to call father. And I still remember the day he begged in front of my house for hours asking me medicines for his ruptured vagina. I know your lot and how I wish to hack you all in little pieces. You have been handing me drugs for years and now you have come to my den to threaten me. All for that little Bangladeshi rat I killed. I can provide excellent contacts for y.. ”
Shiva gave a slight pull to the trigger and spoke calmly.
“one more word and I will kill you.”
“listen beta.”
Baam Baam Baam !
Three bullets hit babaji on his face one after another. All on the forehead forming a big gaping hole between his hair and eyes. The old tantric fell on the floor with a loud thud as bits and pieces of his brain were strewn across the tiny room.
No sooner had babaji fallen on the floor, Lalla rushed into the room brandishing his knife.
“don’t you dare move, dog. I will not address you by your pet name. Put down the knife and sit on the floor. I need to kill you as well.”
Lalla dropped the big nepali khukri on the floor with a loud clank. He however refused to sit.
“You killed babaji. Did Sahib order the hit, Shiva? He had businesses with us other than your cocaine.”
Shiva gave a smirk.
“I already killed Sahib two hours ago."
"What ! Why ? What for ?"
"Karim was more than a rat to me, he had signs of a eunuch. His mother Faruqa knew about him and wanted us to take good care of the boy. We don’t forgive anyone who attacks our clan. Now sit down motherfucker or I’ll blast that sweaty little sack of yours.”, said Shiva pointing her gun to Lalla’s pelvis.
Lalla sat on the floor cautiously and closed his eyes.
Baam!
Moments later, Shiva walked out of Jinnat babaji' s clinic, holding the pistol in one hand and her bag in the other.
A small crowd had gathered outside the clinic after the gunshots. But nobody dared to stop Shiva. Some were too scared of the gun. Some got embarrassed by her sexuality and some repelled by her appearance. But nobody could dare question the eunuch.
Soon, she reached the narrow puliya.
Shiva gave a quick glance back at the dimly lit basti, took out her handkerchief to cover her nose and started walking briskly to catch the last metro.
