last local from Churchgate and traveling with ambitious gangsters

 It was the last local from Churchgate to Vasai, well past midnight. It would practically be all-empty, with most 3-seaters being occupied by passengers who could stretch out and sleep it out all the way. The slow local stopped for more than its usual day-time at Bombay Central, Dadar and Bandra to allow the long-distance night express trains to speed past enroute to their destinations. I had to travel all the way up to Vasai and that would be a journey of more than ninety minutes or so and therefore I organised my haversack as a comfortable pillow and covered myself with two sheets of today’s Times of India and planned to take a good nap all the way. Hopefully, I would not be disturbed by anyone.

There were other passengers on nearby 3-seaters. The rear 8-seater had a family sitting together, looking worried and tense, with several old-style cotton bags, tied up with nylon ropes. They must be going to Vasai to catch the interchange long distance trains that came in from Pune and changed over from the Central to the Western railway networks. Something must have happened at their native town or village, something unfortunate and tragic, perhaps.

The 3-seater opposite me was empty and a lucky passenger could get to sleep on it upon boarding at Marine Lines or Charni Road. It was difficult to fall asleep rightaway. This was my first journey at these hours and I had not planned it in this manner. Whattodo. I could not help it. I had to be at Vasai, just before dawn, to catch the down train from Indore that would turn eastwards to Pune and would help me reach before office hours for an early meeting.

It was ok, I thought. What if I could not go to sleep? I could just take some rest in case I did not get a good seat or sleeper berth on the train from Indore to Pune. The worried family on the 8-seater were whispering and chatting and I could hear all or some of it. The elderly lady was speaking in a terrified whisper and wondering about all the sleeping passengers. She wanted to know what they could do if anyone of these passengers jumped up and threatened them with a knife or a gun and wanted all their luggage and money. How could they fight him and avoid any injury.

I could not hear the reply from her middle-aged son but it had not been satisfactory. The middle-aged daughter-in-law replied impatiently to the elderly lady and the gist of it was that any such person with a knife or a gun would be truly unlucky. They could actually pay the thief to take away their entire luggage and go away. At least, they could then look forward to purchasing new items and new clothes. The five kids, probably theirs, laughed in silent gasps.

Three men boarded at Marine Lines and came to sit at the 3-seater that was opposite me. I glanced at them in a very hesitant manner. They looked quite decent, middle class, half-sleeve shirts, terene trousers, leather shoes with laces and had newspapers, an umbrella each, and small packets of salted peanuts that they must have purchased at the railway platform. It had become costly this month and one had to pay two rupees. A hundred percent inflation and that must be reflective of the state of the nation, I thought. No threat or worry from these three decent persons, I felt.

One was quite elderly, probably their boss or elder brother or their senior at their workplace. The other two spoke respectfully with the elder. He was dressed in a white shirt and a pale cream trouser. The youngest was dressed quite formally. He had his half sleeve shirt tucked in and had buttoned up right up there, all the way to the collar. The third one looked nervous. He looked around the compartment. He was glancing at each passenger and yet, he had just rightaway dismissed the family at the 8-seater. He did not look at them. I could sense his thoughts as he looked at me. It was just more than a normal glance. He was staring deliberately to check if I was really sleeping or just faking it up.

The youngster in the formal tucked-in-shirt bowed low, just a bit, and spoke in a matter of fact manner. “Boss, we may have to bring a full stop to that shop owner. He refused to pay up on the monthly rent and has not paid for the past one year. You are very kind to him otherwise I would have used my full stop methods, at least six months ago.”

The elder smiled and patted at his folded-up newspaper. “Who are you talking about? Thanawala? Let him be. He is a Bawa and they are like that only. I will talk to his mother. She will know what to do. We can visit her at Flora Fountain. You come with me. You cannot go about killing all our tenants who are not able to pay up. You have already forgotten the mess that you created last year with the Malabari family. You thought that they were just local shopkeepers who were selling fake goods by labelling them as smuggled goods. You did not realise that they had a big background support. It took me quite a lot of trouble and five months to settle everything down. Do not start again.”

The third man was watching me intently. He was suspicious that I was not fast asleep and that I was probably listening to their conversation. I was getting worried. What if they did notice that I was awake? Full stop or what?

The youngster was not convinced about taking it easy about whosoever that Thanawala was. “I know all about your patience, Boss. You tell us to be polite and patient and yet you want us to collect as much pending rent as more than possible. We have to answer to you. This Thanawala knows it entirely. He threatened me by saying that he will complain to you. He says that his business was down for the entire year and he cannot pay and that we cannot remove him from the house because he has his receipts from earlier years and he has sent letters to the owners about it. Just let me handle it in my way. I will return with Richard and Pakiya and we will take care of him. New tenants will pay.”

I sat up in alarm. These fellows were talking about knocking off someone. It would be better to move to another compartment and get away from them. The third man smiled in triumph. He had guessed correctly about me. At the same moment, the elderly lady with the family on the 8-seater screamed. She probably thought that I was a thief.

“Do not shoot, do not shoot,” she shouted. She was holding up her hands in absolute filmy style. Her daughter-in-law had bent down to hide. The middle-aged man was looking very apologetic at us and shrugging his shoulders.

The three men looked at me in alarm. They must have thought that I was a threat to them and was traveling in the train to cause them harm. I was in an absolute state of panic. I shouted at the elderly lady and her family, waving my hands and saying, “No. No. I am not trying to harm you. Do not worry. I am not going to shoot you. Do not worry.”

Saying thus, I turned to apologise to the three men. They were gone. They had probably jumped off at Bombay Central.

From "the very short short stories on first edit" 
(c) Bharat Bhushan
12 February 2022 

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