Vikas Swarup - Six Suspects

'But where will I run to?'

'You cannot do better than Varanasi. People come here to die. I am sending you there to live.' He inserted the key in Eketi's handcuffs and opened them. 'But remember,' he raised a finger, 'ours is a strange and sublime land. You can meet the best people in the world here and the worst. You can experience unparalleled kindness and witness extraordinary cruelty. To survive here, you must change your way of thinking. Don't trust anyone. Don't count on anyone. Here you are entirely on your own.'

'Then maybe I should return to my island,' Eketi mumbled as he massaged his wrists where the handcuffs had cut into the skin.

'That is for you to decide. Life can be ugly. Or it can be beautiful. It all depends on what you make of it. But whatever you do, stay clear of the police. Not all inspectors are like me.'

'Will you get into trouble for letting me go?'

'The department will probably file yet another case of incompetence and negligence against me. I don't care any longer. I am out of the rat race. But you may just be joining it. Good luck, and don't forget to take your bag.'

As Eketi draped the fake Adidas across his shoulder, Pandey took out some notes from his shirt pocket. 'Take this. It will help you get by for a few days.'

'I will not forget you,' said Eketi, as he accepted the money, his eyes filling with tears.

The Inspector gave him a wan smile and briefly squeezed his hand. 'Now don't just stand there weeping like a donkey, sisterfucker. Yank that damn chain,' he said gruffly, and pulled up a fawn blanket over his head.

Eketi's legs ached. For over two hours he had run non-stop, cutting through dense sugarcane fields and sleepy villages in pursuit of the gleaming lights of the city. Now he was in Chowk, the congested heart of Varanasi, but the twinkling lights had been snuffed out and the bustling streets were empty. An uncanny silence reigned in the area, interrupted only by a stray dog or a car. Beggars slept on pavements underneath shuttered shops. A posse of policemen stood guard in front of an ancient temple.

The only spark of life in the city at this hour was a brightly lit all-night pharmacy. Eketi crept behind a parked jeep and observed the manager drowsing behind a wooden counter, surrounded by glass shelves loaded with boxes and bottles.

A woman arrived and nudged the manager into wakefulness. A couple of minutes later she stepped out of the pharmacy, clutching a brown paper packet, and Eketi had his first glimpse of her face. She was the strangest-looking woman he had ever seen. Almost as tall as Ashok, her eyes were lined with dark kohl, her cheeks were caked in cheap rouge and her lips were painted deep red, but her flat jaw and square chin gave her a manly countenance. She wore a red-and-green sari with an ill-fitting yellow blouse. Her hands were large and hairy. In fact, Eketi could even see a thin line of hair which began from her navel and disappeared into her blouse.

Consumed with curiosity, he began following her. She went through silent back streets littered with rubbish, along dark alleys and cobbled, winding paths, and emerged eventually at the mouth of a crowded, lively street. There were ancient, double-storey houses on both sides of the road, with intricately carved balconies which resonated with music and the tinkling of dancers' ankle bells. On the ground below, women with hard faces and vacant eyes, some only wearing low-cut blouses and petticoats, leaned against shadowy doorways and beckoned passers-by with provocative smiles. There was a corner paan shop where a man doled out ready-made triangles of betel leaf, a stall selling bread pakoras, and even a store for pre-paid phone cards. The smells of jasmine perfume and fried food mingled in the thick humid air. While the rest of the city was fast asleep, the residents of this street were having a party.

'Welcome to Dal Mandi,' a man wearing a lungi and tank top accosted Eketi. 'Would you like to try our goods?' Behind him, a girl in a pink sari giggled. But Eketi took no notice of her, intent only on following the woman who was now walking purposefully towards the far end of the street. The road ended in a T-junction where she turned right into another alley. Eketi turned right too.

Suddenly she whirled around and caught Eketi by his right hand.

'Why are you following me? Do you think I am a prostitute?'

Taken completely by surprise, Eketi struggled to free himself from her grip, which was as strong as a man's. 'Mujhe chhod do! Leave me!' he cried.

She looked at him closely. 'Who are you, you little black devil?'

'First you tell me, what are you?'

'What kind of question is that?'

'I mean are you a man or a woman?'

She chuckled. 'This is the question which everyone wants answered. Some men are even prepared to pay to find out.'

'I… I don't understand.'

'My name is Dolly. I am the leader of the hinjras.'

'Hinjra? What's that?'

'You have not heard of eunuchs? Which planet are you from?'

'I honestly don't know about eunuchs.'

'We are the third sex. Between male and female.'

Eketi's eyes opened wide. 'Neither man nor woman. How is that possible?'

'In our country, everything is possible.' Dolly waved her hand. 'But tell me about yourself. Who are you? Where are you from?'

'I am Jiba Korwa from Jharkhand.'

'Jharkhand, eh? I used to have a friend called Mona. She was from Jharkhand too, but not as dark as you. Now she has gone to try her luck in Bombay.'

'Where do you live?'

'Not too far from Dal Mandi.'

'And what is this?' Eketi pointed to the brown packet in her hand.

'Oh this? This is the medicine which I have found with great difficulty. There was only one pharmacy open at this hour. This is for my friend Rekha. Her daughter is extremely sick.'

'What's the matter with her?'

'She has malaria. For ten days she has had a high fever.'

'Malaria? I can cure malaria.'

'You?' She appraised him from head to toe. 'You five-foot joker, you now say you are a doctor?'

'Believe me, I am. A pretty good one, too. On my island I once saved a boy who was going to die of malaria.'

' Island? Now which island is this?'

'Kujelli!' Eketi exclaimed and, to cover up his blunder, quickly opened his canvas bag and took out a bunch of dried leaves. 'This plant can cure malaria. If you will take me to your friend, I will treat her daughter.'

'Is that so?' Dolly thought for a moment and then nodded her head. 'OK. No harm in trying you out. Come with me.'

Eketi resumed following her through the twisted by-lanes of the city. They went down a couple of alleys, crossed a stinking open drain, and suddenly Eketi found himself in the enclave of the eunuchs. Even at this time of the night, they were up and about, dressed in saris and salwar kameez, with painted faces and outrageous hair-dos. They greeted Dolly and watched Eketi curiously, more friendly than hostile.

The houses here were small and austere, mostly one-room shacks built with brick and cement. Dolly stopped in front of a house with a yellow door. A hinjra wearing an orange-and-blue sari with a bunch of jasmine flowers woven into her braid ran out of the door, clutched Dolly and began to weep. 'Tina is going to die. My poor Tina,' she wailed.

Dolly spoke with some of the other eunuchs before turning to Eketi. 'The doctor came to see Tina a little while ago,' she told him. 'He says the girl cannot be saved, the fever has reached her brain. My trip to the dispensary has been useless.' She let go of the medicine packet, which dropped limply to the ground, and smothered her face with her hands.

Eketi stepped forward and pushed open the yellow door.

He entered a small, crowded room. There were pots and pans in one corner, clothes in another. But his eyes were drawn to a mattress on the floor, on which lay a small girl in a frock, surrounded by blankets. She was no older than eight or nine, with a round face and almond-shaped eyes. Frail and thin, she seemed to have been drained of vitality. Her face was pale and there were large red blisters on her neck. Her eyes were closed, but from time to time she mumbled incoherently in her sleep.