A life for a life

The sound of traffic had filled the entire environment with a sense of urgency. The sound of police vans and ambulance echoed in the distance as I hid myself between the unfinished beams of the flyover. I was sweating as if it was a mid afternoon heat of may. The perspiration trickled down my face to drip at the chin. My forearm that brushed against the sulphur coated steel reinforcement was bleeding. My heart was beating at an abnormal rate. My ears warm with blood filled earlobes cooling down as I waited with abated breath. I had to abandon the place as soon as possible. The revolver I had with me had three bullets less. I do not know if the bullet had found its way into the ribs of the man I intended to shoot, but a little miscalculation had led to an accident and caused a car to overturn into the construction site nearby. Sitting on the concrete boulders, I pushed the little revolver into the little cavity that formed with the multitudes of garbage piled with concrete blocks. It was a safe place to keep the revolver. ‘No one will ever find it’ I thought to myself. I took a pile of slimy garbage from nearby and covered the cavity. The money must have reached the hospital.

‘Surili deserves to live. What else am I living for?’ I told myself. I looked around. I picked up some empty cola bottles. If I was caught, I could tell them I was searching for cola bottles, I would sell them to make some money for dinner. Grabbing the bottles, I left the place.

As I left the place, the fire fighters were dragging out the car. The man was bleeding, someone said in the crowd. He might not survive. The other man was dead. He was dead on the spot. The bullet had pierced where his heart was. I know God will never forgive me for taking lives of the people I hardly knew. But God was not fair with me either. Why Surili, of all people? Why did she get the disease that was born out of my mistakes? I was ready to fight God. He had to be fair, at least to a child of three years who did not know what life was all about!

The train journey to the station was filled with anxiety. With every police man passing by, I would think he already knew that I had committed a murder. So I walked looking down on the feet below. Why did I have to come from the little village? Wasn’t it better living in the village without a dream than leaving everything behind? I was on the brink of loosing everything that I had, my daughter. Had I not come to this city, neither would I have gone and….

My wife died a month ago. We were childhood sweethearts. She was the daughter of the neighbouring farmer. During our childhood, we used to pack food for our father and take it to the fields in the noon. We used to play in the fields till the evening. In the evening I would swim in the nearby river with my other friends. Later, when we grew up she was about to get married to a man from the nearby village. She got married and left. There was little I could do.

Soon she returned. Her in-laws had abandoned her. The dowry was not paid in full. Her father died and I took it on myself to marry her. We got married soon. Her father had taken many debts to pay for the dowry. The fields did not pay much for repaying the loan. I set my foot on the soils of Bombay.

The first few weeks I lived on the footpath, searching for food, begging for work. One day, finally I got a job in a bar. A dance bar, where women danced as rich men threw the money on them. It was a nice job, I could get food for atleast one time a day. They used to offer food for all their employees in the night. That is when I became a friend of a bar dancer. She used to dance amazingly to the tunes of Mehbooba… She reminded me of Helen. She was in love with me, she said. One night, when it was late and I was tired, my reasoning left my mind. In her I saw my wife. But it was an illusion that the alcohol had offered my vision.

I regretted it and never ever went back to her again. I got a job in a different bar. I asked my wife to join me, thinking her presence would keep me away from the evils of an empty mind. Here, in the new home, it was a safe place. I had rented a little room in Dr. Ambedkar Colony. At the least, she would not be hounded by the evil money lenders of the village. Soon we had a little child. Her laughter used to fill the house with a sweet lyrical sound. We named her Surili. She became our world.

One day, my wife got a flu. We went to the doctor. He gave some medicines, but she did not improve. A blood test followed. She might not be able to survive, the doctor said. He asked me to give a test. Why was he asking me to give a test when my wife was not well? Hesitantly I gave the test. The doctor said that I had a grave disease, it might have gone to my daughter too!

How could it happen? The doctor was fooling me. I went to another doctor. He said the same thing. I needed money for her treatment. I went to the bar owner. But destiny had something else for me. Dance bars were closed – forever. A politician wanted to play the moral police of the city. The owner of my dance bar had left for Dubai. I went everywhere for help, but nowhere did I get any. One day when I reached home, Surili was laughing and playing on the bed next to her mother who had stopped breathing.

A couple of weeks later, Surili got a cold. There was no money with me. I went to the same doctor. He asked me to take Surili’s blood test. I did not have the money. The doctor gave me some money and asked me to take the test. After the test, he said that Surili has the disease, he dreaded. ‘We need to shift her to the I.C.U. I will arrange for some money, but it will be 2000 short’. Where will I get Rs.2000, I thought to myself. I broke down in the hospital.

A nice man came to me and took me to a nearby canteen. He said he had heard my story. He could arrange for the 2000 rupees if I did his work. He was a nice man. ‘The job is simple’ he said. He handed me over a packet. It had rs. 1000 and a revolver. ‘It is loaded’ he said. ‘You just have to press the trigger’ he said. I will stop near an Opel car and knock on the door, you will see this man’ he pulled out a photograph of a man in a black suit. “Aim the gun at him and pull the trigger. After that just run. The remaining money for the treatment will reach the hospital, even before you reach here.” he said.

I did not know what to say. ‘I can help you if I want to, but you seem to be a self made person, a person who wont take any favors, that is why. Think about it’

I had lost my wife. Surili was the only person I had in my life. I had to do it for her. If it meant it was to sacrifice somebody else’s life. The man was already heading to the entrance gate of the hospital. I ran behind him.

‘I will do it. I will do anything’ I told him.

What a grave thing to do? Wont that man who died have a daughter or a son? Wont he have a wife at home, waiting for him? But Surili’s life was at stake. What kind of a father would I be, had I not done anything to save my daughters life! I reached the hospital. The place was buzzing with activity. I went to the enquiry. I asked about my daughter. A nurse came next to me. She said they tried, but there was nothing they could do.


She was asking for me in the last minutes of her life, the nurse said.


What have I done?