A Strange Birthday

A man as desperate as someone looking for a long lost child walked right into a cafe. His eyes and beard dripped tears which, I think, he didn’t seem to mind. He stood at the counter, his hands shivering.

‘What’d you order, Sir?’

‘It’s nothing,’ he said and walked out.

He shook his head and muttered – ‘I’ll run away once Abaan’s birthday is over. And I must never come back.’ Then, he rubbed his beard and slapped his own face like a madman.

Yogendra Jaiswal, a forty five year old police officer, then walked into the fifth cafe that night.

This time, however, he mustered some courage to buy a medium sized bottle of cold milk, cake and a packet of candies. He wished to throw the food in the dumpster, but he didn’t. Instead, he got a corner seat under the fan. He stumbled on his way there twice. Then, he closed his eyes and imagined a famished Abaan.

‘Are you hungry?’ Abaan had said.

‘Yes, and I can’t even leave to have a cup of tea because of you. My head hurts if I don’t have at least three cups a day,’ he said.

‘Today’s my birthday. I am twenty now, uncle.’

Her smile was pure. The news of her birthday almost lightened up his heart and face. He had spent the last sixty hours guarding her in a broken deserted house. The only food they had in there was bread (and water) that he had bought in abundance earlier. It was enough to survive, and the liveliest part of the hiding to him was the girl’s chirpy talks and laughter.

‘Do you want cake?’ He had said after pondering for a while.

‘Is it possible?’ ‘If we’re careful, it is.’

‘Uncle, do you plan to kill me already? If you can take care of me for this long, please let me live today. I can die tomorrow, if you will...’

‘There, there. You go accusing me again. You’re an idiot is the reason why you got caught for a crime you didn’t even commit.’

‘Uncle, how can anyone possibly think I could plan a murder? I can’t even plan a perfect study schedule. Do you know these people? Tell them I didn’t. Once they listen to you, they’ll understand.’

‘Stay put. I’ll lock the door perfectly...’

‘Can’t I go with you?’ ‘No.’

‘Why do you have to lock the door if I’m safe here?’

‘If somebody possibly comes here, they’d try to unlock the door first. During that time, do not panic, okay? Slide the yellow plank and stay under. If anything else happens, you can slip to the street from there and run as fast you can. Hide well and wait for me. But I don’t think anything will happen. So, don’t think too much.’

‘Yes.’ But her heart was skipping beats.

‘Now, what type of cake do you love?’

‘Pineapple...’

‘Anything else you want me to buy for you?’

‘My friends would buy me cold milk and heart candies every year. It had become sort of a ritual among us. Pineapple cake, cold milk and heart candies were the starter to our birthdays. But you don’t have to do so. My friends, they died after getting caught. They must’ve met a bad cop.’ 

‘Yogendra Jaiswal. Found you,’ said an old man standing right in front.

Yogendra stood up hurriedly, who had dozed off after the day’s dirty work.

‘Sir, how’d you know?’ He stretched his hand out.

‘Great job...some will say. But I will not.’

‘Sir, you know?’

‘How can I not? Great job butchering the murderer...now the murderers themselves will say. But I will not.’

‘I tried my best to...’

‘Shoot her with your own hand?’

‘I tried to protect her. I did my best. Sir, I’ll run away. I’ll go away to a far off place and never come back. I must resign.’

‘What you’d do to the wife?’

‘I’ll give her a divorce. She can’t remain a wife to a murderer.’

The old man gave a crackling laugh and said, ‘On the goddamn TV, you’re the savior, a hero who bravely shot down a murderer...’

Yogendra closed his eyes again and buried his face on the tabletop. Abaan reappeared under his closed eyelids.

As he had stopped at the store, he could imagine a bubbly Abaan who would cry and hug him over and again for the food.

She’d say, ‘You’re the best cop ever. You’re the best, the best...’ And he might have to hit on her head to bring her back to senses. Then they’ll laugh a lot, eat a lot and talk a lot. They’ll finally have the food that would untie their knotted brain nerves, and they might come up with a plan to escape easily.

He’d make sure to keep her safe for the rest of her life. He will take her to his wife and say, ‘Do we adopt her? She’s so lovely, isn’t she?’ He smiled at the thought.

As he neared the broken house, he saw a number of cars he would recognize in his sleep. He threw the food bag in a dumpster.

He sneaked a peek in the house and overheard that they had watched her run to the street. He made his way outside. He searched in and out the alleys he thought she might have run to. 

‘Come here girl on your own or you die the worst death ever,’ a colleague yelled.

Yogendra peered through a crack in a wall ahead.

‘It was so hard for us to find her. I’m not letting you kill her with one shot. Sir, why don’t we shoot her first in the chest and then all over her body? The dirtier the picture that we send to the minister, the happier he’ll get...’ A young policeman spoke to a senior officer.

Abaan was already walking step by step toward them, very slowly.

‘Umm Abaan, happy birthday...’ A voice came followed by a loud gunshot from behind the wall.

Yogendra threw his gun away.

He took her small head in his hands.

‘It will be over soon. Stay put,’ he said closing her eyes.

‘Sir, move aside. We want to show we worked hard.’

‘She’s dead. Leave her alone,’ Yogendra yelled.

‘I wanted to kill her on my own, but you did it first. And I’m not a bad man to snatch the reward of your good deed,’ the senior officer said to him.

‘No. Don’t say I killed her. I did not. Nobody should know I killed her.’

‘They saw you Yog. We’ll get into trouble if I pretend I did it and someone later reveals that it were you, not I. You must get the credit you deserve. Let’s take the body.’

‘No, don’t touch her. I did this. I’ll manage. Go, leave us alone.’

‘Are you sure she’s dead? I’ll leave first, then.’

Yogendra Jaiswal cried for an hour or so in front of the old man.

After a good cry, Yogendra sat up. He dried his face and set the pineapple cake, cold milk and heart candies and said, ‘Let’s pray.’

The old man nodded and they prayed.

‘Sir, you cut the cake.’

The old man cut the cake. 

‘Happy Birthday, Abaan, stay safe and happy forever,’ Yogendra whispered.

Then, both of them ate cake and drank milk.

‘Sir, I do not like candies. Do you want ‘em?’

‘I’m not fond of sweets as well, thanks.’

‘Son look, you’ll always get orders to kill people. But you’re not obliged. You can say no. You can get a transfer and live a decent life. You know, you don’t have to necessarily kill people,’ the old man explained.

‘If I don’t, someone else will.’

‘You should be fine as far as it’s not you.’

‘I can try to protect those people...’

‘Then, end up killing them with your goddamn hands? That hurts more, son.’

‘I killed her with ease. She must have felt lesser pain.’

‘A murder is a murder. You can’t justify, not to her family now, can you?’

They debated over right and wrong until Yogendra’s phone rang.

‘I’ll take this call,’ he excused himself.

‘The minister was thrilled by your brevity. He has one more job for you,’ said the man on other end.

‘What if I refuse to take this one?’ Yogendra said.

‘If you do this right, you get a promotion. Think well, and say yes soon. I’ll wait.’

‘Is he innocent?’

‘How can he be innocent? What are you blabbering, Yogendra?’

‘Is he on the same boat as Abaan? You know what I mean.’

‘Probably... I mean, yes.’

‘I will take this one. It is 8 pm now. See you at 11 then, okay?’

He hung up and went to the old man.

‘Looking at your performance today, you got one more job... Am I right?’ The old man said.

‘Yes, sir...’

The old man laughed, amused at himself.

‘That’s how they do it. Did you say no or asked time to think? Asking time to think is scary, son, because it implies you give yourself permission to kill.’

‘I agreed.’ Yogendra laughed aloud for the first time today. He added, ‘Don’t worry. I will protect him. With my life, this time, I promise.’

The old man’s eyes flickered. He stood up, pulled Yogendra by his collar and took him outside.

‘That’s how I killed ten people. I tried protecting them, but ended up killing them with my own hands. Look at these dirty hands closely, son...’ The old man said, ‘You just killed one. I beg you, son. Stop here. Don’t get used to.’

‘Sir, please don’t force me. I adored her like my own daughter. Compensation is a word I must not use, but I wish to save as many lives as possible to make up. She’d believe me even if the world goes against me. I’ll need help from you.’

The old man gave up and went his way.

‘I’ll call you, Sir. Forgive me Sir...’ he screamed from behind.

Then, he went to a different direction. He walked down an alley and to the broken deserted house. He removed the yellow plank and imagined Abaan escaping the house. He placed the plank on the side of the broken wall.

When he was done, he picked the plank up and felt carves on its surface. He showed light on it and looked at a neatly carved sentence in English with a nail.

It said – ‘I don’t wish to be killed at the hands of strangers.’

On his way home, Yogendra Jaiswal left the heart candies under the yellow plank where she may have stayed last.