Chapter 15

Chapter 15

15 May

Kalu Yadav the star-orator and, Master the Drama-Director plus a star-poet, both of the national ruling party of India, one plus one were eleven. They shared a room in the official home of a high-ranking party member.
Kalu Yadav almost made his escape, Almost because he was to about to jump the perimeter wall to run away from the Master but two growling bulldogs growled and walked to him to have an unpleasing chat. He ran back to his room and Master saved his life and closed the door immediately. Now the bond was even deeper.
Master said, “You owe me your life.”
To pay the interest on this debt Kalu Yadav listened to his thirty juicy poems and fell to sleep. Master tried in a vain to wake him and finally he slept too. They slept for five hours.
In the morning they were taken to Party Headquarters, now they both were high-ranking party officials and elections were very close.
After two days Prime Minister and other party officials were to sweep the mountain state of Uttranchal for two days, on the election champagne. They needed hundred speeches and two hundred poems. Star orator Kalu Yadav was to accompany them, he too needed hundred speeches and couple of hundred poems. Master’s work was growing at an astonishing speed. Now he had two school bags and Kalu Yadav was to carry one. They had a job to do.

2

Bishambar’s final rites were to take place at late noon. Mahadev took Rishi, Hermit, Vinita and Priest in his boat to Mumbai early in the morning. They arrived at Bishambar’s home at noon. House was full of people and Vinita the prospective bride of Roger was again the center of attraction, everybody wanted to meet her. She was again nervous. Rishi anticipated the situation and instructed Priest to stay close to her. Rishi himself felt awkward in the presence of many people and he wandered around in the markets, as usual Hermit wanted to join him but he too anticipated Vinita’s mental state so he decided to be around her.
A bus took all people in the house to the final-rites site, a big auditorium. Rishi was still wandering in the markets. He always felt awkward in the presence of so many people.

Auditorium was full of people and police was everywhere and many dignitaries were arriving or leaving. Roger arrived there, press, VIPs and other people stumbled over each other to meet him and pay condolences.

Bus brought them all back to home. Rishi was there and he wanted to leave but Vinita requested him to stay there because she felt less vulnerable in his presence. House was full of guests so he and Hermit slept on the grass in the lawn.

3

Television crew arrived at the National HQ of ruling party. Their sole purpose was to shoot a brief video footage of Kalu Yadav requesting nation to vote for his party. After several retakes finally they were satisfied.
In two hours, an edited version was ready.
All people watched and everybody applauded because it was superb.
Master said, “I won’t even piss on this junk.”
Everybody looked at him with a wide stare.
“Why?” Home minister asked.
“Because this stinks.”
“Now Master, what do you suggest?” Railway minister said.
Foreign minister was desperate. “We must deliver it to networks in two hours. We want this to run at prime time.”
Master pointed his finger to the motion picture director who directed the shot.
“You are fired.”
Master was now Director.
“I will do this act first, everybody look at me.”
He started playing the act and everybody looked at him with staring eyes, wide-open mouth, one could count the number of fillings in each person’s teeth.
As Master was speaking, emotions were changing on his face like many different colored smokes were mixing in the air. He inflated and deflated his nostrils and cheeks. He shook his ears and danced his eyebrows. He twisted and twitched his lips. He stared, gazed and blinked. He smiled and cried. Lines on his foreheads appeared and disappeared. He raised and dropped his jaw and chin. His eyes expended and narrowed.
Everybody was hypnotized.
“How did I do?” Master asked.
There was hand clapping for long time.
Now Kalu Yadav started playing the act. He almost did everything but was not able to shake his ears and dance his eyebrows.
“How did I do?”
Shipping Minister said, “Well you need to work hard.”
Everybody agreed. So Kalu Yadav worked hard and finally, they half-heartedly agreed upon the final version and clip was sent to the Television Networks as a paid advertisement.

4

Police had declared a sizable reward for the information regarding the explosion that blew up Inspector Daya Ram and leveled a three star hotel. Police wanted to know why Inspector Daya Ram went to hotel?

Night manager of hotel ‘Golden Star’ Manoj Kumar, who lost his memory, was locked in his own home because he wanted to run away from his own home. He refused to identify his wife, parents, friends and children.
Suddenly his memory returned. He recognized his family.
It was a happy day for them. They all went to temple to thank God. They had a party and then his wife called the police and gave them the good news. Many detectives and a police artist were summoned at the police station.

Manoj Kumar arrived at police station a crowd of investigators welcomed him with clappings. He was given a seat and ten detectives sat around him.
“You repeatedly called police station and asked for Inspector Daya Ram, he went there to see you in your hotel. Why?”
“Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I called Inspector Daya Ram repeatedly.”
“Why did you call him and what was there?” A highly skilled investigator asked.
“Inspector Daya Ram came, I was drinking.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then I called him repeatedly.”
“But you said that you called him repeatedly and he came.”
“Oh Yeah! I called him and he arrived. He took out his revolver.”
“Why he took out his revolver? Who was there?”
“Two men wearing beggar’s clothes.”
“What two beggars did, because you called Inspector Daya Ram?”
“Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I think those people were not inside but they came from outside and saved my life from the burning hotel.”
Manoj Kumar was very confused. He could easily distinguish his memory before and after the explosion.
Did I see these two faces before the explosion or after the explosion?
“So two beggars jumped in the building and saved your life. But what happened before that?”
“I think something happened,” Night Manager said, “I must think.”
Inspector said, “Take your time and think.”
“I called Inspector Daya Ram and he came, I was drinking. I went up and saw diamonds in the room.”
“Then what happened?”
“Two beggars ...” Manoj was confused, he slapped his face.
“Two men gave me a glassful of whisky.”
“Then what happened?”
“I think I got drunk.”
“You said you were drinking when Inspector came.”
“I drank again.”
“Then what happened?”
“I am confused, let me think.”
Manoj Kumar thought for good ten minutes and said; “Now I remember each and everything.”
“Inspector came and I was still calling him. We went upstairs and two men gave me a glassful of whisky, they were picking up diamonds from the floor, they gave us wet bills. Then we came down and two men arrived and I gave them a bottle of Scotch.”
One investigator lost his temper. “Fool! Inspector Daya Ram was blown up before he set his foot in the hotel.”
“Oh yeah! Oh Yeah!”
“Seems like you were drinking all the time.”
“I am confused.”
Mr. Chubby was constantly remembering that he had whisky.
Inspector said, “When did you go to college?”
“I don’t remember I was too young. I just finished my high school three years ago.”
“Three years ago you finished your MA.” Inspector corrected him.
“Oh Yeah! Oh Yeah! Then I got married and after six months I got engaged with my wife, she was expecting a baby.”
Police struggled with Manoj Kumar till midnight. He was now even more confused, everybody was more confused.
“Two men, diamonds, wet bills, a broken glass, and liquor,” Detective said, “that’s all you told us so far.”
Manoj Kumar said, “You confused me more.”

Police tried to question Manoj Kumar for 12 hours but he was even more confused at the end than he was at the beginning.
“Take him away. He has wasted our twelve hours.”
Chief Inspector was very angry; he closed his eyes and silently started counting one to hundred.

Manoj Kumar was very humiliated.
I saw two men in torn up clothes but they saved my life. When I lost my memory they were the first people I saw. Why the same men in torn up clothes would give me wet thousand rupee bills. They gave me a glass of whisky and I got drunk. Did they give me a glass of liquor? Why? I got drunk before they gave me liquor or after they gave me liquor? Liquor, liquor—liquor—liquor, everything could be straight had not given me the liquor. Now police thinks I was drunk at that time.
One thing is set on the stone that two men in beggar’s clothes saved my life.

5

Finance Minister hand delivered Prime Minister’s invitation and his election schedule to Roger.
Roger was discussing this matter with his Mumbai CEO.
“What a coincidence, we can see him in Uttarkashi.”
“That’s great, this way I will love to see Uttarkashi.”
“Well Sanjay, we will make a generous contribution to PM’s party. Make sure we must we get back every penny’s worth.”
“Sure Roger,” CEO said, “So what is your schedule in Uttarkashi.”
“I am getting married in there two days later at 17th May, we can meet PM at 18th May. You can schedule two hours lunch meeting at May 18th at our hotel terrace in Uttarkashi.”
“Congratulation! So I am invited on your marriage.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to go there to make arrangements.”
“Absolutely no arrangements, Rishi and Hermit will be Vinita’s brother and father. From my side, you, my mother, Sonny and his mother will join. Jennifer also wants to come. That’s it.”
“What about my family, can they join?”
“No. And inform PMO to maintain my anonymity till the end.”

6

Ex Don of the Mumbai Underworld was beating his chest violently with his both hands.
He just got the news that police has killed his brother and nephew in a staged shoot out.
“Oh! God, why you did this to me, I never missed a pray.”
His new attendant Jafar was waiting for him, to come out of hysteria so he could inject a dose of insulin. He already feared an attack of hyperglycemia. Doctor was on his way to inject him with sedatives.
Don screamed, “My bridges are burned and I am a prisoner within Pakistan. I am the casualty of my own war.”

7

Video clip was a hit on national television and Kalu Yadav was now a national figure as well a high-ranking party official and Drama Master was his official Personal Secretary. Now he was the Chairman of the Banners and Slogans department too. His rank was higher than a Cabinet Minister. Kalu Yadav was a giant of a figure in the party office.
Everybody respected both boss and his secretary equally because they were the one who will write sweet & sour, rough & taught, true & false, black & white, hot & cool, slow & fast, good & bad, stinging & soothing speeches for the leaders.
Their slogans were already on the Television.
Kalu Yadav and Master were assigned a big six-bedroom bungalow in Delhi.

They reached at their new residence at night. Master has three poems in his mind and he started writing.
Kalu Yadav inspected his new residence and looked at a pantry closet in the kitchen.
He smiled. “But the door opens inside.”
Kalu Yadav went to the next-door neighbor, the Finance Minister of India and asked for a screwdriver. Yes they had one. He came back to his bungalow and looked in the empty guardroom at his gate, he found a small cot. He unscrewed the hinges of pantry closet door and pulled it out, push that small cot into it. He refitted the door so it opens to the outside, and arranged his belongings in the closet.
“It is hot here. I think I saw a pedestal fan in the guard room,” he said to himself.
He forced the pedestal fan in inverted position on the top pantry shelf; with its base wedged to the ceiling, but wire was few inches short to the electrical receptacle in the kitchen. After all Kalu Yadav was a loom man and a mechanic, he walked around and found a piece of wire and finally he started the fan. Cot took over whole space; he climbed on the cot and closed the door.
Holy cow! Latch is outside.
He went to Railway Minister’s home and brought a hammer and drill; from Home Minister’s home he got a wood chisel and some wood screws.
He came back and refitted the latch and locked himself up in the pantry closet and went to sleep.
Master was still writing his poems.
Kalu Yadav muttered to himself, “Now is the time for long earned rest.”

Master knocked on the door of the pantry closet or rather his boss’s bedroom.
“I just wrote a best poem of my life. It is the grand-daddy of all poems in the world.”
“I am tired.”
“Me too, but still I am doing you a favor. My poems are bringing joy in your life.” Master said.
“My muscles are stiff.”
“My poems will relax your muscles.”
“In that case you read your poems from the outside.”
“No I must get inside because I must know if you are really listening to my poems.”
“There is no room inside. It is just a closet.”
“Room must be in the heart.”
Kalu Yadav had to open the door. There was no room to stand so Master too lay with him on the same small cot and they shared the same pillow. A heavy-duty poetry session started.

Few miles away, national leaders of the Opposition Coalition were watching Ruling Party’s paid advertisement on a DVD player. Kalu Yadav was requesting the nation to vote for his party or rather ruling party.
They watched that clip fifteen times and doom and gloom deepened in the room.
Leader said, “Our tails are in the juicer.”
“And this guy Kalu Yadav will drink the juice,” other leader said.
Another leader said, “He is a tough guy and tough guys finish last.”

8

Atmosphere in the kitchen pantry closet was aromatic, because Kalu Yadav used jasmine hair oil and Master always used coconut oil. They were lying on the same small cot, head to head, shoulder to shoulder in the pantry closet and on the same small cot.
Master was reading his forty-fifth poem. Kalu Yadav’s eyes were bulging and temples were throbbing.
He imagined Rishi’s picture in his mind. Mother Kali, please rescue me from this monster.
Suddenly he had an idea.
“Master, how many leaders are in the party?”
“Let me finish my poem.”
“Master Ji we have about three hundred leaders.”
“Yes. Next line says. …”
“Master Ji we have three hundred leaders, each needs about hundred speeches and each speech needs five poems, right.”
Master was a bit worried. “Yes, I think so.”
“So three hundred multiplied by one hundred and then by five. This comes to one hundred and fifteen thousand poems. Correct.”
Master had sweat on his head, “Correct.”
“Now we can’t use all the poems because some are love poems too.”
“Correct.”
“So this means you can use one poem out of three. Correct.”
“No Sir. We can use one out of five if we are lucky.”
“So this means we need about three quarter million poems and you are wasting your time reading these to me.”
Master was now worried. He jumped out of the closet. Kali locked the door and went to sleep.
Master came back after a while.
“Open the door.”
“You got to work. Go and write the poems.”
“I thought about it, you could not rush a seedling to become a tree. My poems come from the bottom of my heart. I cannot invent, they just happen. As I tried to invent them they ran away.”
“Did you call your wife?”
“No I forgot.”
“Go call her?”
Master ran to the phone..
“Hello my morning dew.”
She said, “I have decorated my heart with your idol in it.”
A poem was born in Master’s head. He couldn’t wait and by the impulse to complete it he disconnected the phone and ran to his poem writing gear.
He returned to pantry closet, unfortunately Kalu Yadav forgot to lock it, Fortunately, as they were engulfed in the confluence of Jasmine and Coconut Oil aromas, both fell to dreams on the same small cot in the pantry closet.


End of Chapter 15