Truth or Li(f)e?

The clock showed a little less than 6 pm. It was time to log out and head back to home. I rose a bit from the chair and looked across the cubicles.

‘OK, most of the people have gone’, I thought. I checked the score a final time on cricbuzz and India was well ahead in the game against arch rivals Pakistan. Though Sehwag had flopped, Yuvraj and Pathan had built a solid partnership and were hitting at ease. The match was World Cup Super Eight and given India’s track record against Pakistan in World Cup matches, I was kind of assured that we will win.

I gathered my bag and helmet and was heading towards the parking lot when the security guard said” Sir, be careful. Some troubles in the city’

‘Why? What happened?’

‘I don’t know Sir. But it is on the radio. Lot of police. Firing also’

‘Oh, ok thanks Ajay bhai’, I said and walked towards my bike. In my mind I was trying to think what could have happened.

‘Usually Sarojini market is a crowded place. So, I can bypass that if I take a right on Samrat Chowk and go up to Central School. Then its just Stanley road that I have to be careful about’ I was re-planning my route on the bio-GPS that God has gifted us with. The human mind is a brilliant piece of art. Multi-functional, immensely complex yet superfast!

I looked at the speedometer. It showed a steady 40 kmph. Looking around at the familiar streets I was wondering what was wrong with the city. Everything looked normal to me. ‘Did Ajay bhai, fool me?’ I thought with surprise as I took a right turn on Samrat Chowk. ‘No, he is too old to joke about such matters. May be, the re-planning thing did work out!’ I tried to assure myself of my quick decision.

Soon I realized that everything was not normal after all. Herds of kids and college teens gulping bhelpuri and chaat by the roadside were missing. Many houses were in the dark. Even not many rickshaw waalas were seen. Puzzled, I tried to think what Ajay bhai had said to me earlier, ’Troubles, police, firing’. I was not able to link those three words however. ‘I should better hurry up and watch the news at home’ I wondered and accelerated through the nearly empty street. It was not long before I reached Stanley road.

I was shocked at what I saw there. It seemed like I was in a war-zone. Probably, the same brilliant mind had drifted my imagination to a war-ravaged Iraq? Black fumes from behind half-burnt shops, shrill cries of children and women, burning vehicles, sirens from police patrol cars, loud chants of Jai Sri Ram on one side and a faint Allahu Akbar from a farther distance left no doubt in my mind that a Hindu-Muslim riot had ravaged the city.

My heart sank in at the thought. ’Oh not again!’ I panicked and said to myself. Maneuvering the bike through burning tyres, people running madly for their lives and insanely angry people looking to kill just about anyone in sight was impossible. I tried hard to flee the place as quickly as possible. A narrow patch of road behind the burning shops seemed to be the ideal escape route and I turned my bike.

‘Bhai, please save me’ someone cried out. A blood soaked hand was waving at me with fright hope. I was startled at the sight. Hiding under the hand-cart by the side of the road, heavily hurt on the arms and chest, he was squirming in pain. I looked around the street. Complete mayhem. I glanced back at my narrow escape route. I looked back towards him. ‘Save me please bhai, bhai please save me’ he was crying out. I could sense his desperation to stay alive. ‘I can’t leave him here like this’ I told myself. I got off my bike and rushed towards him. He was a young man, in the mid-thirties, and looked absolutely terrified. His eyes spoke of the fear embedded in his heart.

‘Bhai saab, please take me to a hospital. Please please, I don’t want to die. I have a little son’.

‘How am I going to save this unfortunate man’ was what I was thinking, while still trying my best to assure him that I won’t let him die. As I looked around, the sight of such unjustified madness was getting on my nerves.

‘Please calm down, you will be alright’ I told him while frantically searching for someone who could help us out. Fear of death and the horror of getting parted from his near ones had made him insane. He was bleeding profusely and constantly crying out in helplessness.

I realized that the nearest hospital was not far away and the man probably had a shot if I was quick enough. As I stood up to look around for some help, he clutched my trousers faintly and said in an almost inaudible voice, ’Please don’t leave me’. I looked at him and was about to re-assure him when I heard loud cries of Allahu-akbar from one of the by-lanes. A large crowd with sticks, swords and torches in their hands were rushing towards Stanley road. The fear-struck man was losing his consciousness. I had to act quickly.

Without losing any time, I did my best to pull him out from under the hand-cart and place him on it. ‘May be, I could use this hand-cart’ I thought and started to drag it to behind the half-burnt shops. ‘Don’t worry, you will be fine’ I tried to tell him loudly and dragged the hand-cart with all the strength I had. The escape route was living up to expectations. As I turned around, the man was clutching his hand on the sides of the cart. In the backdrop I saw someone set fire on my bike. ‘I had just bought it a couple of months ago’ I thought.

Dragging a man in his mid-thirties on a hand-cart through by-lanes which were not meant to be, was not easy. I didn’t have a choice. To avoid the rioters, I was trying to take narrow, dark paths shadowing us both from the anguish filled eyes of the insane bunch of hooligans. The hospital was not far off and I could see the sign on the road leading to it. ‘I had made it’ I thought to myself with a feeling of contentment as I turned back. He seemed to be static. Not moving. His hands were not clutching the cart as tightly. I was in deep horror and shock.

‘Is he alive? Was I slow?’ were the first questions in my mind. I stopped the cart in front of the hospital and went close to him. ‘Bhai, are you ok?’ I said. ‘Bhai, bhai, we have reached the hospital. You will be fine now.’ I said again and shook him. He opened his eyes softly. He looked at me and tried to fold his hands. In a faint voice he said,’ Bhagwan sab dekh rahe hai. He will bless you’. I breathed a sigh of relief. Soon after, some hospital staff came and took him away. They praised me for my efforts in saving his life. They didn’t realize the magnitude of terror I had seen in his eyes which forced me to help him at any cost.

Overburdened by the quick events, I walked towards my home which was not very far off. I was sad about my new bike. The desperate efforts to save the man’s life had drained all energy from me. However, there was this sense of fulfillment about saving a life, in the midst of all this frantic commotion where everyone was looking to kill someone, for no sane reason whatsoever. Before I could think that everything was over, I saw a large group of people, similar to those I saw on Stanley road sometime back. Only this time, they were shouting slogans of Jai Sri Ram. I could not realize when they came so near!

‘Hindu or Muslim?’. A lanky tall guy with a sword on his hand and tilak on his forehead shouted at me. His bloodshot eyes spoke deeply of the hatred he had for muslims. Faintly I mumbled out, ’Hindu’.

‘Sach bol raha hai?’ shouted someone behind him, raising the torch he was holding towards my face.

‘Ji’ I told him slowly. My heart was beating fast.

There were a few murmurs between them. One of them said, ’Jai Sri Ram bol’. I looked at him. He repeated,’ Jai Sri Ram bol’. This time with a higher pitch and anger. The sword in his hand was against my neck now.

I said, ’Jai Sri Ram’.

Somehow those three words seemed to appease them. They moved past me hastily, their hard shoulders rubbing against mine, pushing me off as they rushed down the street, shouting those three words that probably saved me.

It appeared as if suddenly the world around me was moving too fast. I just wanted to get back to my home. I walked down the road, hiding under the darkness and quickly darting across when there was no one in sight. After a while I could see my home.

‘Oh, I am here finally’, I said to myself.

I ran inside my home and locked it. It took me some time to come to terms with what had happened in those few hours. I gathered myself and went to the bathroom. I stood under the running shower as the events of that evening flashed before my eyes again. I had experienced the most diverse of feelings, the most traumatic of experiences, been a witness to the apathy of man, felt contented for having saved someone’s life, the feeling of horror when the blade of sword was placed against my neck. But life moves on.

I freshened up and prepared myself for the daily namaaz.

‘Allah, I am grateful that I am alive’ I said with a deep breath. ‘I saved someone’s life but lied that I am a hindu’.