Nineteen
‘My sons,’ Mama screamed.
We unlocked the bank's main gate and opened it slightly. Mama opened his
arms. He held a fire-torch in one hand and a trishul in the other. I expected him
to cry when he saw Omi, but he didn't. He came close to us for a hug. He took the
three of us in his arms. 'My son, the bastards killed my son,' Mama said as he
wouldn't let go of us.
I looked into his cold eyes. He didn't look like a father who had just lost his
son. Alcohol and marijuana smells reeked from his mouth. Mama appeared more
stoned than grieved.
‘My brother, Mama,' Omi said and held back his tears.
'Don't cry. Nobody will cry today,' Mama screamed and released us. He turned
to address the mob, 'we Hindus have only cried. While these mother fuckers come
and keep killing us over the centuries. In a Hindu country, in a Hindu state, the
fuckers can come and burn our kids in broad daylight. And we don't do anything.
We just cry. Come rape us, loot us and burn us. They think they can terrorise the
whole fucking world but we will have no guts to do anything.' 'Kill them,' the mob
replied. The shaky body movements of the mob showed their intoxication. By
blood or alcohol, I could not tell.
'But the bastards made a big mistake. They tried to rape Gujarat today. Mother
fuckers thought these vegetarian people, what will they do? Come let's show them
what we can do?'
Mama paused to take a sip from his hip flask. We stepped back towards the
bank.
'I hope they won't expect us to join. I won't,' I whispered in Ish's ear.
'Nor am I, and let's take Omi inside too,' Ish said. We told Omi to hide behind
us. In a delicate movement, Ish shut the bank gate again and locked it.
'What are you whispering?' Mama said and almost lost his balance. His fire
torch fell on the floor. The mob cleared around it. He lifted the torch back.
'Where is my other son? Open this gate,' Mama said as he couldn't see Omi.
'What do you want Mama? Can we talk tomorrow?' I said.
'No tomorrow, I want something today.'
'Mama, you know Omi needs to get home...,' I said. Mama brushed me away.
I don't want Omi. I don't want any of you. I have many people to help me kill
the bastards.'
Ish came next to me. He held my hand tight.
'So leave us Mama,' Ish said.
'I want the boy. I want that Muslim boy,' Mama said. 'What?' Ish said.
'Eye for an eye. I'll slaughter him right here. Then I will cry for my son. Get the
fucking boy,' Mama said and thumped Ish's chest. Ish struggled to stand straight.
The blow torches lit up the dried grass on the entrance of the bank. A thick
lock kept the gate shut and the mob outside.
'Mama, you are drunk. There is nobody here,' Omi said.
'You lose a son first. Then I will tell you about being drunk,' Mama said, 'and I
know he is here because he is not at his home.'
'Mama, your dispute is with his father,' I said.