“Stop talking.”
“Do you really think you’ll get away? You know he’ll take the money and run. Even if he doesn’t, how long do you think you’ll last? You’ll be dead soon enough. Worse than dead. Or you could live and get rich. You could help me. You could help set me free.”
The Oaf puts his hands over his ears.
“Shut up!!” he cries.
And with that he’s gone.
* * *
—
The hours tick by.
Night falls, and the Oaf returns.
He sits on the floor near Sunny, sullenly stares.
He seems calmer now.
He and Sunny both.
“Why are you doing this?” Sunny says.
The Oaf finally looks Sunny square in the eye. His voice is flat.
“Because you ruined my life.”
“I ruined your life?”
“You ruined my life,” the Oaf repeats himself.
“How?” Sunny says.
“You took our land away.”
“You’re a farmer.”
“You ruined my life.”
“You got paid.”
“Money didn’t help anything!” the Oaf snaps. “Anyway,” he says after some time, “the money is all gone.”
“The money is gone,” Sunny repeats, testing the words.
“It’s gone.”
“How much did you get?”
“Eight crore.”
Sunny whistles long and slow. “Eight crore rupees. It should have changed your life.”
“It did. It made it worse.”
“Where did it all go?”
* * *
—
The Oaf closes his eyes as he speaks.
“We married off our sisters in big weddings. We bought cars, TVs, washing machines. We built big mansions like you people. The whole village became crowded with mansions. But all our fields were gone. After all the celebration, what then? Everyone was lying around all day with money and nothing to do. No fields to work in, nothing to work together for. People turned to drink. Drugs. All I knew was to work together. Now everyone was just in their own worlds. Buying more cars. You couldn’t move for all the new cars. The lanes were blocked for hours sometimes, and people would fight and shoot at each other. Everyone was sick. My brother bought a fancy car from Delhi.”
“What car?”
“A fast car.”
“What brand?”
“Lam . . . Lamb . . .”
“Lamborghini,” Sunny smiles. “He bought a Lamborghini.”
“Yes.”
“That must have cost, what? Two and a half?”
“Two point eight crore.”
Sunny nods to himself. “It was the Gallardo.”
“I don’t know.”
“What did your brother do with it?”
“The same day he bought it, it got stuck in an alley between two new mansions. The more he tried to get it out the more it got stuck. The noise of the engine was so loud everyone came to see and watch and give advice. But my brother was drunk and angry and he kept pushing the engine. It was so hot the engine caught fire.”
“And?”
The Oaf’s eyes give the hint of a smile.
“The whole car burned.”
“So what did your brother do?”
“He went to the showroom. He said the car was faulty. The dealer told him it wasn’t. The fault was with him. My brother got angry with that. He pulled out a gun. Demanded his money back. But they wouldn’t give it.”
“So?”
“My brother shot him in the head.”
Sunny lets it sink in.
“Your brother’s a hothead.” Sunny stops a moment, thinks. “What can I call you? What’s your name?”
“I’m not telling you my name.”
“Make one up. I have to call you something.”
The Oaf hesitates, his eyes search the room. “Manoj,” he finally says.
“What happened next, Manoj?”
“My brother went to jail. I had to go every week to give money to the cops. Four lakh a month to keep him well. Good food and blankets. I had to keep going to Lucknow to bribe people to get his bail. Soon the money was gone. We were left with nothing and he was still in jail.”
“That’s too bad.”
“I went so many times. He was so angry. Then one day his mood had changed. He was smiling. He said he’d met a friend who had suffered too, and this friend knew how to win our money back. He told me to trust this man, pay his bail. He’ll take care of you.”
Sunny smiles and nods. “This man you’re with now?”
“Yes.”
“And this was his plan?”
Manoj looks down. “Yes.”
“He’s running away with the money, Manoj. He’s long gone, he’s running with the money or he’s already dead. And soon enough my father will be here. And then you’ll be dead too. Nothing I say will stop it. But you could just let me go, Manoj. Let me go and I’ll make you rich.”
“I don’t want to be rich.”
“Then why did you kidnap me? What do you want?”
“I want my life back.”
“No one gets their life back.”
No one ever gets it back. Life just runs away from you. It never comes back, however hard you try, however much you want it to. This is the lesson you should know. You have to adapt or die.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Dinesh Singh said.
Sunny had driven to the villa that morning.
Called Eli from his office and told him to get the Bolero ready.
The Bolero, not the Porsche.
It’s coming back to him.
Eli pulled the Bolero into the compound.
It’s coming back to him.
Dinesh came out to meet them.
“This motherfucker better have something good to say.”
It’s coming back to him.
Something Dinesh said to him.
* * *
—
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“Yeah. You’ve decided to fuck yourself. And you’re fucking me too.”
“I’m trying to save you.”
Sunny swallowed his whisky. “Fuck you.”
“I warned you about this,” Dinesh said. “It shouldn’t be a surprise.”
“You’re destroying yourself.”
“No, I’m making my move.”
It’s coming back to him, through the fog, it’s coming back to him.
Something Dinesh knew.
“By siding with some fucking farmers?”
“Yes. And you’re going to side with them too.”
“You’re insane.”
“After we get rid of them both, we’re going to change this world.”
“Get rid of them both?”
“My father. Yours.”
“Fuck you. Why would I do that? I’m not betraying my father for you.”
“Then do it for yourself.” Dinesh walked to his desk, picked up a manila envelope. “He never stood by you.”
“He always stood by me.”
“He never did. And I have the proof.”
He held the envelope out to Sunny.
“What’s this?”
“I know you don’t care about the world, and the suffering taking place in our names. But maybe you’ll care about this. Your father lied to you. Controlled you. Took the only thing you’ve truly created away.”
In an almighty flood it returns to him.
The envelope held in his lap as he and Eli drove away.
The envelope opened, the documents spilled from inside.
Patient’s name: Neda Kapur.
And the sonogram.
The image of his unborn child.
Alongside the photos of Neda and Chandra at the clinic in London where his child returned to atoms and stars.