"I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the  frozen creek.  That was a long time ago, but it's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it.  Because the past claws its way out."

She just sat there, looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Riya.  I’ve not been able to fulfill my duties as husband and father.  I’m sorry.”  He dissolved into tears.

She bit her lip.  She didn’t want to cry. 

“I want our Riyansh to grow up without the shadow of his father upon him.”

More silence.

“I should not have given in to my heart and married you in the first place.  You would have hated me there itself, but that would have been our last meeting, and you would now be happily married to someone who does not have a gangster’s past.”

“But Riyansh?  Don’t you feel anything for him?  Look at him.  He’s your copy.  He has your charming looks, your intelligence and your genes.”  She spoke for the first time.

“Yes.  That’s the problem.  My genes.”

She placed a hand over his mouth.  “I still love you.”

“I love you too.  That’s why I want you to go away from me.  With Riyansh.”

“How will I bring him up?  He’s only a year old.”

“I have enough money for that.  It’s all yours.”

“Ill-gotten wealth.”

“Yes, but it’s wealth that was made to secure his future.  I won’t be around forever, endangering your lives.”

“We’re not going anywhere.”

The sleeping boy in her arms stirred.  In a few minutes, he would be crying for food.

“Go away before he makes a noise, Riya.  Go away.. save yourselves!”

***

It was 6 o’clock in the morning.  Anshul woke up.  He always woke up at this time, as if by clockwork. 

Normally, he would wake up to see his Ma cooking in the partition of their one-room tenement that they had designated as the kitchen.  Baba would have his head buried in the local newspaper and Ma would be calling out, “Jee, please have your bath soon;  Anshul and Tina would wake up soon and need the bathroom.”

“Ah, they’ll take time,” he would respond.  “There’s a long queue at the toilets today.”

“Considering the time you take for your bath, it’ll square off.”

And Baba would reluctantly peel the newspaper off his hands and drag himself to the curtained off part of the house they called the bathroom.  And that was the scene Anshul saw everyday when he woke up. 

He would then run to the community toilet with a big lota of water and join the queue.  When he returned, he would wake Tina up.

After the morning rituals and breakfast, Baba would drop the kids off to school and go to work.

This was the daily scene till six months ago, when Ma and Baba suddenly started fighting everyday.

Anshul would often hear phrases like ‘old flame’, ‘the other woman’ and ‘home-breaker’ being thrown around.  His Ma had brought him up to not ask questions, but his 15-year-old mind had an exposure to the world, thanks to his peers in school, that told him there was another woman in the relationship.

In the last one month, the fights got bigger, the voices shriller and some new phrases like ‘unborn child’ and ‘illegitimate’ were added to the expletives flying around.

And today, Anshul woke up to see Ma sitting in a corner, silently crying.  There was no sign of Baba.

***

“Ma, what happened?” he asked.

She handed him a piece of paper.  One look at his Baba’s scrawl and Anshul understood what must have happened, even before he had read it.  All those fights in the last few months had ultimately resulted in a broken family.

Anshul hugged his Ma and cried along with her.  He didn’t know what else he could do.  He knew his Baba was gone for good.

“He’s gone.  All my fault.  All my fault,” lamented his Ma, slapping her head with her hands.

“No, Ma, no.  Don’t do that.  It isn’t your fault.”  Anshul held his Ma’s hands tight and a revulsion for his Baba began building up inside him.

Tina, in the meantime, had remained fast asleep, oblivious to the situation and also to the vagaries of human nature.  At twelve-and-a-half, she still retained the innocence of childhood.

Anshul took one look at Tina and resolved to maintain her innocence – forever.  And to bring the smile back on Ma’s face.

But fate had other plans.

***

By evening, Ma had turned out the cupboard and realised that Baba had taken all his fixed deposit receipts, bank pass books and other investments with him.  And they were all in his sole name.

“We have no money to sustain ourselves, Anshul.”  How will I feed my children, she thought.  She collapsed to the floor in a heap. 

“Maaaa!!”  Anshul picked her up and laid her on the bed.  She was hot.  “Ma, you have a fever.  Thank God I bunked school today...”  His voice trailed off as he ran to get a doctor.

After examining Ma and prescribing medicines, the doctor demanded Rs.500/- for the visit.  Anshul asked him, “So much for  two-minute walk from the clinic to my house?”

Ma whispered.  “Never bargain with doctors, Anshul.”

“But Ma, he’s looting us.”

“Quiet, beta.  We’re dependent on him.“

“But Ma, how do we pay him?”

“Open the tea leaf jar in the kitchen.”

Anshul paid the doctor from Ma’s hidden cash reserves.  That was when he resolved to drop out of school and start earning.

***

No one wanted to employ a 15-year-old boy.  No one wanted to be taken to task for employing child labour.

His disappointment was not lost on Ma.

“Go back to school, beta.”

“No, I will earn and feed us...”

“You will not drop out of school and that’s final.”

“But Ma, we need money for your medicines.”

“I don’t need medicines.  I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t.  She would cook a spartan meal for the three of them and sleep for the rest of the day and night.  She had lost the ability to smile.

The doctor said, depression.  He prescribed some pills.  Expensive tablets.

Anshul couldn’t take it.  Nor did he know how to deal with Tina, who thought her Baba had gone for a trip and would be back any day.

At the tender age of 15, he had to run the household and he didn’t know how.

As he sat, alone, dejected and hingry, in a corner of the school playground during recess, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“What happened, Bhai?”

He looked up.  It was Prashant.

Prashant was his classmate, but much older than him, thanks to his spending two years in each of his past four grades.  He was shunned by his classmates as a bad influence, though no one could pinpoint how.

He was also the only boy in the class who had bothered to enquire about Anshul.

Anshul sobbed out his story.

“Anshul, I have a solution.  You can make money even while attending school.”

“How?”

“Meet me today under the mango tree in the park near our school, after classes are over.”

Under the mango tree, Prashant handed him a  little packet containing  white powder.

“This is very expensive.  You must keep this in your pocket and deliver it only to the person whose name and address I give you.”

Anshul didn’t ask any questions.

“This is a test.  Clear it and I give you more chances.”

That afternoon, he sneaked out of school before the last period began.  He took a bus to the other side of town and walked up to one of the many highrises dotting the area.  He entered one and took the lift to the top floor and then climbed up to the penthouse.  He was met at the entrance to the terrace by a tall, middle-aged balding man who received the packet and paid him 500 rupees

A delighted Anshul bought his Ma the pills she needed.

But she didn’t recover.  She soon became confined to bed, and Anshul was thrown into the role of homemaker and both mother and father to Tina.

The first thing he did was to tell Tina that Baba was never coming back.  To his surprise, she didn’t take it very badly.  She’s grown up overnight, he thought.

The siblings went to school together.  They returned together. 

Every night, they would sit by Ma’s bedside and listen as she spoke about her good old days – how she met Baba, how they won over their respective families and got married.

“He’s gone on a trip.  He’ll come back,” she said one day, and that was when Anshul realised that she was sick – very sick indeed.

The doctor prescribed more medicines.  He approached Prashant again.

Prashant gave a laugh that sent a chill down Anshul’s spine.  Anshul kept a straight face – he needed the money.  There was no jewellery left to be pawned.

Another small packet was delivered to a masked man in the local park that night and Anshul could run the household for another week.

And then it was time to pay Tina’s school fees.  Yet another errand was carried out for Prashant and Tina could study one more year.

Anshul flunked his class and didn’t want to go to school again.  No amount of persuasion by Tina would work.  Ma was, by then, completely in her own world, somewhere in the distant past.

Anshul washed cars, did some rag-picking and even begged outside temples to run the house.  In between, he ran errands for Prashant.

His eighteenth birthday was the most tragic day in his life.  He and Tina were left alone to face the big, bad world.  His hatred for his Baba increased manifold.

Anshul met Prashant again.  “I want a raise.”

He got a sinister laugh as a reply.

“I-I’m serious.  I’ve been doing this job for years and I still get the same pittance.”

“Pittance?  This is what has sustained you and your family for years.  Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Take me to your boss.”.

“Okay, if you insist.  Get into my car.”

Just before Anshul entered the car, Prashant blindfolded him with a thick black cloth.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of them were standing in a huge empty hall.

Prashant opened the blindfold.  Anshul found himself standing in front of a burly man who looked every bit a goon, with a bald pate, a moustache that twirled upwards and menacing eyes.

Anshul opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  He felt like Oliver Twist asking for more. 

“Yes?” barked the burly man.

Prashant spoke.  “Sir, he wants to be paid more.”

The burly man looked directly into Anshul’s eyes.  His mouth curved into a smile that made the young and squirm.  He wished the earth would open up and swallow him.

And then he remembered Tina.  She was all he had in this world and he would do anything to see her happy. 

The burly man said, “To be paid more, you must work more.  What kind of work are you willing to do?”

“Er, a-a-anything, S-s-sir!”  Anshul squeaked.

“Would you kill someone?”

Anshul remained silent.  Was he looking to hire him as a killer?

“We give you a gun and tell you whom to kill, where, when and how.  If you do it, you get the money, if not....”

He did not need to complete the sentence with words.  His eyes did that.

Anshul hesitated.  He saw in his mind’s eye a vision of Tina in wedding finery, with a shy smile beneath her veil.  At the same time, he didn’t want to land in jail or get killed in the process.  He needed to be around so that he could get Tina settled in her life.

He slowly mouthed a ‘no.’

The man threw his head back and laughed.

“So you’ll go back to delivering packets, huh?”

“Y-yes...”

“Do you know, my boy, that once you get into our circle, you cannot turn back?”

Anshul stared at the burly figure in horror.  He looked at Prashant, who stood in a corner, giving a lopsided smile, as if to say, “you wanted a raise?  Now see what you’ve landed into.”

Anshul looked at the big man and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Good boy!  Prashant will train you to use a gun.  We have quite a few jobs lined up for you.  You better learn fast.”

Anshul stayed silent

“Another thing,” the burly man added.  “If you let anybody know about us....”  Again, his eyes completed the sentence.

Anshul nodded.  He had no choice now.  Or at any time, ever.

***

Two days later, Anshul and Prashant rode a bike to one of the creamiest parts of the city.  Prashant was driving;  Anshul rode pillion.  Both of them wore helmets that covered their faces well.

It was 8:55 am when they reached a street lined with bungalows on both sides.  Some of them had security guards at the gates, who also kept a watchful eye on the road.

Prashant slowed down.  He whispered to Anshul.  “That third bungalow on the right, the blue one, is where our target lives.”

They rode past the lane and parked outside the nearby community garden, in the middle of a small crowd of late joggers and laughter club enthusiasts.

“I hope you remember what I taught you about using the gun.”

Anshul nodded.  His heart was pounding on his chest wall like drumbeats.  The boy who had never hurt a fly in his life, was going to kill a whole human being.  He didn’t like it, but he had no way of escape.  And if course, he needed the money.

As Prashant had predicted, a well-dressed man emerged at the gate of the blue coloured bungalow at 9 am sharp.  Anshul recognised him as a prominent industrialist whose alleged underworld connections had made the headlines just a week ago.

The industrialist was accompanied by a security guard.  They made their way to the car waiting outside the gate.

“Okay, now!”  Prashant started the bike.  He rode it at a reasonable speed into the lane and slowed down slightly, just as the duo reached the car.

Anshul held his breath.  He prayed to God to forgive him.  And at the precise moment, he aimed.  And fired.  Twice.

The first bullet hit the security guard.  The second hit the businessman on the chest.

All this took only a few seconds and before anyone could realise what was happening, the bike had sped out of the lane and was far, far away before anyone could do anything.

***

“Well done, my boy!  How did you manage it?”  The burly man, whom Anshul now addressed as Sir, asked.

Anshul was exhausted and shaking from head to toe.  He merely replied, “I imagined I was shooting Baba.”

***

The money that Anshul received helped pay Tina’s college fees and get her a new wardrobe for her college days.

Anshul soon learnt that he was working for one of the most notorious underworld dons in the country.  He was called every now and then, to eliminate those who worked for the don’s rivals.

Over the years, his mind numbed to the killings as he came to know more about the people involved, the grime behind the gloss, the devil lurking behind the suave exterior and the skeletons in their cupboards.  He discovered that everyone possessed skeletons.

In all these years, Tina had blossomed into a beautiful woman, with an intelligence to match.  She never asked her brother any questions, but it appeared to him that she knew everything.  She cared for him with her heart and soul.  Time and again, she would advise him to get married.  His response would always be, “I want you settled first.”

One day, Tina brought home her friend.  One look at Riya and Anshul felt that Cupid had just hit him with a thousand arrows.

Tina introduced the two of them to each other.  She couldn’t help noticing how the two of them couldn’t take their eyes off each other all evening.

Five minutes after Riya took her leave, Anshul asked Tina, “When is she coming again?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she replied and delighted in watching him blush.

Anshul dialled her number.  She picked it up on the first ring.

He was taken aback and could barely speak.  So was she.  Tina doubled up with laughter on watching the silent conversation.

The next time, he video-called her.  And thus began their story of endlessly staring at each other.

For the first time since Baba had left them, Anshul felt light and carefree.  He experienced a thrilling rush of emotions that he had never felt before.

They met again.  And again.  And yet again.  In coffee shops.  In gardens.  At the mall.  At the beach.

Each meeting left him with a heady feeling and a strong desire to meet again.

He desperately wanted to propose to her.  But he did not want to subject her to a life of uncertainty.  True, he was living a comfortable life in a reasonably large house.  He had his own car and investments for the future.  To the world, he was a businessman who travelled a lot and earned well.  But only he and a few from the underworld knew that the business was that of a ‘hired assassin.’

Over the years, he had acquired such skill and dexterity in eliminating human hurdles from the path of his bosses that he was their preferred choice.

He had also travelled the country to ‘meet’ his targets.  From the snow-capped mountains of the north to the temples of the south, from the culturally rich eastern states to the commercial capital in the west, he’d been everywhere.  And he’d done everything – from gunning down people in broad daylight to setting off minor blasts to causing ‘accidents.”  He had also become a master of disguises, to fool any security cameras.

He now commanded a huge price and his bosses were only too glad to pay it, because he assured results.  And also because he had never landed in trouble with the police.

As a front and to keep himself occupied, he ran a small shop selling readymade garments.  But it was a meagre source of income.

With all this in mind, he wondered whether he should get married, after all and put his wife and children in danger.

He was still wondering, when Riya popped the question.

And the decision was made.

But there was one thing to be done before he got hitched.

He spent the next six months finding a suitable match for Tina.  He finally found one whom she liked.

The wedding took place with much fanfare.  Anshul finally fulfilled his wish of seeing his sister happily settled in life.

The week after, Anshul and Riya had a court marriage, attended only by Tina, her husband and Riya’s immediate family.

***

Life with Riya was blissful.  She was a devoted wife and loved him to the core.  He reciprocated;  however, he always carried with him the guilt of lying to her that he was a businessman with a frequent need to travel.

But then, wives often have a knack of finding out the truth.  A few months into the marriage, Riya started wondering about the source of Anshul’s earnings. 

Anshul never spoke about his business.  Riya wouldn’t ask.  But one day, she did.

“What exactly do you do for a living, Anshul?”

Anshul took a deep breath.  “What exactly do I do for a living?  Well, I run a shop...”

“And what else?  Is it  connected to the underworld?”

Anshul was taken aback.  He couldn’t deny it.  Nor could he admit it.

Riya laughed.  “Wives know.  You guys always leave tell-tale indicators for your better halves, without intending to.”

Anshul was still gaping at her.

Riya sat next to him.  She pushed aside her collection of crime thrillers on the teapoy and placed her laptop there.

She showed Anshul a couple of videos.

“Whatsapp forwards of grainy CCTV footage,” she explained.  “Footage of two prominent businessmen, both with alleged links to shady characters, being shot by a masked man – the same masked man.

“And the same clothes and scarves come home and land in our washing machine.”

Anshul didn’t know what to say.

Riya continued.  “Yes, I know that this pays for our comforts.  I appreciate that you have never been caught.  But you are aware of the consequences.  I would still say, please get out of this kind of life.”

Oh no, thought Anshul.  He had expected this some day, but not so soon. 

“I won’t say this again, Anshul.  I won’t nag you.  But lease think about what I said.”

Anshul heaved a sigh of relief.  But he knew she was right.  He knew he had to change someday.

But what would he do, once he was out of this profession?  He had to secure his future first.  For his wife.  For the kids who would come some day.

Anshul arrived home one evening to find Riya all excited. 

When she gave him the news, his joy knew no bounds.  But he also knew that his time was now up.

He first needed to ensure that he had saved enough.  Then I will retire and do something decent, he thought.

Nine months later, Riyansh was born.  Anshul’s cup of joy was full.  His only worry was that this cup floated on turbulent waters. 

By the time he decided that he had saved enough for the child’s future, Riyansh was two years old.

Riya still wouldn’t say anything, but he could read the look in her eyes.  Every time she looked at him, those beautiful eyes of hers would silently plead with him to turn over a new leaf.

And when he would get uncomfortable and turn his eyes away, she would place Riyansh on his lap.

Finally, one day, Anshul decided to end it all.

He met his boss.  Or rather, the man who dealt with him on behalf of The Boss.  The same burly man who had first given Anshul a taste of the gun.

“Sir, I want to retire.”

The burly man gave his trademark laughter.  But Anshul was no longer scared.

“Sir, my wife is pregnant.  I don’t want my child to be known as the son or daughter of a hired assassin.”

“Of the best hired assassin in the country.  What’s wrong with it?”

“But an assassin, nevertheless.  A killer of people.”

“I hope you remember what I told you when we first met?”

“Yes, but ..”

“It still stands, Anshul.  There is no way out of this business.  You may retire, take up a legitimate source of income and live an honest life, but the past catches up with you somewhere, someday and somehow.  You cannot escape it.  You cannot escape the past, my boy, you cannot escape the consequences of what you have done.”

“Well...”

“Eh, look at me, Anshul.  Do you know how I came to be here?”

“Um, no.  Please tell me.”

“The first time I landed in trouble was as a little boy, all of ten years.  I threw stones at the mango tree in my neighbour’s backyard.  I didn’t get any mango, but one of the stones hit their little boy and then, his parents came and fought with mine.

“And then, my Papa hit me in front of them.  I was indignant.  I said, how do I know that their boy was standing there.  I got another slap in return.  The neighbours left, satisfied.  I was scared.  Forever.

“I grew up as the bully – the class bully, the local neighbourhood bully.. I was bigger than the other boys and this was my advantage.

“When I was 17, I roughed up a man who insulted my Mumma.  I was put in a juvenile home.  It didn’t reform me;  it simply put me in the midst of hard-core juvenile criminals. 

I came out of the place, only to find that I was shunned by friends and relatives and the society at large.  My Papa branded me a criminal, though I wasn’t one.  But then, the years passed and I became one.  Because no college would accept me.  No one would employ me.  No one would lend me money to start a business.  I started as a pickpocket and this is where I’m today.

In this matter, you’re lucky, my boy.  You have still managed to keep a respectable front in society.  Still, you cannot move out of the circle you are in.  If you insist, it’s at your own risk.”

“I’m willing to take the risk, Sir.”

“Good.  But I have one last assignment for you.”

“Okay.  Tell me.”

“Anil Kumar.”

“The politician?”

“Yes, the ruling party guy who is contesting in the State Government elections.  The opposition candidate wants him out of the way.  We fear a crackdown on us if he comes to power.  And he has a strong vote bank as well.

“Kill him or put him out of action in such a way that he can’t stand for the election.  Then you are free.”

Anshul was elated.  “I need a jeep with a fake license plate to do this.”

“You’ll have it, my boy.”

***

It was Sunday and Anshul’s target was on his way to a local temple to seek blessings.

Anshul followed him at a distance.  He knew that the man would stop his car on the main road at the beginning of the lane leading to the temple and walk up a side road to the VIP entrance.

He would have to cross the main road to reach the lane as the other side was dug up for cabling work. 

The politician was in the middle of the road when Anshul started his jeep.  He moved speedily, knocking the man down and zoomed away without stopping.

As a crowd gathered and an ambulance was called to take him to hospital, Anshul abandoned the jeep and drove away on a bike.

It was a half hour ride to his destination.  He had to meet the burly man and surrender his gun.

Anshul was cruising along the highway, amidst the sparse traffic, dreaming of walking away a free man, when he saw him.

He had aged over the last one-and-a-half decades and had just started balding over the forehead.  He was accompanied by a woman of around his age, walking along with him, linking her arm in his.  The long black-and-gold beaded chain around her neck, which hung prominently over her outfit, announced her relationship to him.

She was talking animatedly to him as they walked along, on the opposite side of the road.  He was listening intently.  The couple appeared very much in love, just like Anshul had seen him with his Ma, all those years ago, when he was a kid.

And then it all came back to him.  The man’s philandering ways, the old flame, the love child and finally, the abandonment, without a trace.

Anshul once again saw his once-healthy and cheerful Ma wither away in his absence till there was nothing left to wither away.  The pain, the anguish and the sense of being orphaned and left alone to fend for himself and his kid sister, all came back to him, as he saw the one and only cause of all their misfortune enjoying himself with The Other Woman.

He couldn’t resist the impulse.  He couldn’t let them go.

In that one moment of extreme fury, he fished out his gun and shot.  Twice.

Both the bullets were bang on target and both the causes of his rage fell on the ground, screaming and writhing in pain, then lying still.

As a crowd began to gather, Anshul  snapped back to reality.  His instinct told him to flee.  He sped away.  His driving skills and the power of his bike threw off the bystanders who had tried to chase him on their bikes.

By the time he reached home, he knew he would no longer be safe. 

“Quick,” he told a surprised Riya, “we have to move!”

Riya calmly went over to the cupboard and picked up a filled backpack.  She lifted Reyansh on her other arm.

Now it was Anshul’s turn to be surprised.

“Preparedness is necessary when you are married to a gangster,” she said and smiled.

The two of them hailed an auto and reached the railway station, where they caught a long-distance train on unreserved tickets and moved out of the city.

Anshul was now aware that both the police and his bosses would be looking for him.  He didn’t regret his actions.

The train halted at a small station in the interior of the state.  The three of them alighted and made their way out.

The place was rural.  The roads were not paved.  The area was deserted, with only trees and grass to be seen for miles.

And then, unknown to them, a hand with a gun emerged from behind one of the huge trees.  And fired.

The next moment, Anshul was on the ground, writhing in pain from a bleeding leg.

***

Riya refused to leave Anshul’s side, till the local villagers arrived from somewhere, as if by magic. 

The bullet wound was not deep.  There wasn’t much blood loss.  A local doctor removed the bullet and stitched up the wound.

That night, as they lay in an abandoned hut, Riya said to Anshul, “You have been in this line for years.  You must also be knowing how to disappear, right?”

Anshul gaped.  She continued, “You disappear and change your identity.  We go somewhere and live happily ever after.”

“Till the past catches up again.”

“Then we disappear again.”

Riya got up, picked up Riyansh and helped Anshul up.

Together, they tiptoed away into the darkness, to a new life of hope and survival.