Bombay Romance

[ 04 ] Times Past

'Yeh Suraj Bhai ka area hain Sir, and this is Rajashekaran's' The inspector points to the political map of Bombay on the wall.

'So Suraj handles all the illegal activities near the port?' Amarnath asks, crossing his arms.

'Yes, Sir' The inspector says. 'Suraj Bhai is the king of the port'

Amarnath walks upto the inspector. 'What's your name?'

The inspector blinks at introduces himself again.

Amarnath nods. 'Keep your revolver and badge here and leave'

'S-Sir?'

'You can go to your Suraj bhai' Amarnath says.

The inspector swallows, straigthening. 'S-Sorry Sir'

'Do you work the police department or for Suraj? Sharam nahi lagada?'

The inspector and the ACPs of the crime branch hang their heads low.

'Always keep in your mind what uniform you are wearing' Amarnath tells everyone. 'Varadi ka shaan, hamara izzat ek saath jude hain. Got it?'

'Sir!'

'Once again if I hear any one of you use "bhai" beside their names ...' Amarnath stops his warning midway looking at their nervous faces. They seem to have got the hint. 'Give me those'

The inspector passes the files of the Bhais of Bombay to Amarnath.

'Tell the constables. No wasting time, no eating paan in office. Only forty-five minutes lunch time. People who want to extend it to one hour, one-and-half-an-hour and give their resignation and take a break permanently'

'Sir!'

'You can leave' Amarnath nods. They snap to attention with a quick rise and fall on their toes before exiting the cabin.

Amarnath's new office is a little north of the CST and much larger than his previous ones. There's a large verandah with two constables, the main office room with sub-inspectors, more constables and a writer. Separate chambers for the two ACPs, and the large chamber for him.

His cabin is airy. The table has his nameplate placed: golden letters imprinted on the blue board. There's the miniature of the ashok stambh, the national flag, and a rotating globe. Behind his desk is the large wooden mural of the emblem of the Maharastra police department.

He had been welcomed by his subordinate officers with a bouquet wrapped in a flimsy bright blue paper. They had explained the current scenarios, bio-data, and track records of various gangsters. Starting with the two major ones. 

Suraj Bhai and Rajashekaran Bhai; Infamously known for hafta collection, illegal liquor dens, contract killings, smuggling and extortions. 

There are many others involved. There are chelas, sidekicks, and right hands. Who's the right hand of who, who trained who, who works for who, who fought with who, and what not? Amarnath forgets all about lunch, studying the network.

By half past two, he has a headache. No wonder this Bombay mafia is a huge thing, Amar curses in Punjabi. He sits back on his revolving chair, runs his hands through his hair, and closes his eyes.

Eleven years back, his intermediate college lecturer had ensured to get him a seat at the famous Delhi University's Hindu College. So, he had left Punjab in an overcrowded, battered red bus, and reached Delhi to study political science. His father was disgusted by this; that his son would study Arts, instead of respectful medicine or the esteemed Engineering.