Saṛaka banda hōgayāhai kyōṅkiāpa isa taraha sēpārita nahīṁkara sakatē.
Eliot watched the swaying belligerence of the police officers with growing alarm and guessed now why this could spell trouble because even in the back seat he could smell the alcohol on their breath. They were all quite drunk. The officers continued to circle the taxi. Then one of them said something to Pintu and waved his arm in the direction that they had come from and it seemed obvious that they were ordering Pintu to turn around, that for some reason they had collectively got into their head, that this taxi was not going to be allowed to pass. Pintu spoke back and Eliot thought that the delivery and tone suggested that he believed that with a little bit of intelligent and articulate discourse and a touch of belligerence in return, these police officers could be made to change their mind.
Pintu might have been a man of Kolkata but he was to soon learn that he was wrong. After a number of what seemed to be circular exchanges the group of officers came closer to Pintu and it looked like they were trying to give the impression that they were performing their duty, keeping the peace. Even the one with his fly undone. Special would know that trouble was only seconds away. He had certainly experienced the sad results that came to be when alcohol and authority came together.
Then there was a signal that Pintu did not pick up. The officers who were smoking threw their cigarettes away and as they came even closer to Pintu, it became clear to Eliot what was about to happen and time seemed to blur, travel very slowly and as he yelled a warning, the officers raised their lathi–sticks, their faces theatrical in their hostility under yellow street lights and they began to strike the car in a frenzy.
The metallic ring floated through the deserted streets. It were the blows that struck Pintu on his arm which was resting on the window sill that made him howl and convinced him and Ravi that they should definitely turn their vehicle around and head back to where they had come from, just as the officers had demanded.
Eliot felt a confusion of feeling. In one way he felt better because without a doubt he and Pintu and Ravi were now, like a brotherhood, but Kolkata was a dangerous place early in the morning, a place where those who were supposed to be protecting you might be intent on trying to give you a good thrashing and where you might come across some bad luck.
Are you OK Pintu? How is your arm?
Yes, thank you Mr. Eliot, I am fine.
There was a short silence and the Pintu spoke again.
These police are being bastards and tell me that I must be immediately proceeding to where I came from. I can smell that they have been drinking very much alcohol. All police in India are bastards Mr Eliot. We live in a very corrupt country Mr Eliot but our rotten useless government, they are doing nothing about it except to put their hands out and then be putting them full back inside their pocket.
Eliot couldn’t decide how to respond so they continued on in silence. In this silence he thought that they were probably no closer to the Emperor Residency than they were minutes ago and glancing at his mobile phone he saw that it was after two am and the tiredness from a long day was beginning to become a little overwhelming. He couldn’t help but think that on Fridays he once sat on the couch with Marion and watched a movie and sometimes the football. He wondered if the offer could be made to somehow immediately transport him to back to his living room, alone as he would be, would he accept it? Would he swap the back seat of this taxi in Kolkata for the safety of the couch at Grange Apartments? He could hear Eleanor say that India was a dangerous place, that you could come home forever changed. No he wouldn’t go home, he said loud enough to be heard. This was a new journey, a new time and now he must make the most of it.
The taxi was travelling a little faster now. At first it seemed that they were just retracing their journey but then the streets seemed new and he thought that nothing he saw he had seen before and the taxi came to a halt. Ravi got out of the taxi and crossed the road where three men were squatting behind a wood fire under a mettle brazier and the smell of chai wafted across the road. Then there was a lot of pointing with extended arms and turning of heads as they all lit up a cigarette and Ravi looked across at the taxi and the four men all smiled.
You want a chai, Mr. Eliot?
Somehow it seemd a silly decision in the circumstances but he said yes and soon they were travelling again all of them with a pottery cup of chai in hand.
We are thinking that now we know where your Emperor Residency is Mr. Eliot. My cousin back there, he says that this one is a new hotel, or maybe just a new name.
I hope you are right, Ravi because I am so tired.
Yes, you should arrive in Kolkata in the day time and maybe this one would not be a problem.
He rested his head back on the seat and he told himself that he was past worrying about this night. He was sure that they would all be happy soon. He felt exhausted, when from behind his closed eyes he felt the taxi slow and swerve to the left. Could it be possible? Yes, the taxi was slowing and pulling into the kerb beside a high brick wall. There it was, written quite clearly on the wall: Emperor Residency Hotel Block B6. He couldn’t wait to get out of the taxi.
Ring the night bell Mr. Eliot and I am getting your bags.
The bell was rung and Eliot stood there in hope. After about a minute the high wrought iron gate in the wall opened and a young man said you are coming very late Mr. Wilson and then grabbed the backpack and the red rolling case and disappeared inside. At this moment Eliot just wanted to be in his room, sit on the end of his bed and know that he was, at last, there. Both Pintu and Ravi came and stood on the footpath. In his head Eliot was wrestling with the likely fare and he remembered Jalal telling him that he must not pay more than 600 rupees for the taxi from the airport. They will ask for more he said, but you must be firm. In reality, it was very late at night and there was the matter of the circuitous route and also the dodgy Police Officers.
Thank you Pintu and Ravi for bringing me here safely and I’m sorry abou the police back there.How much do I owe you?
No problems Mr. Eliot. The fare, it is 1500 rupees Mr. Eliot. We have taken you very far tonight
How much?
The amount is 1500 rupees.
What!........you’re jokng!
Immediately he wished that he hadn’t said this. It’s not going to break me is it? I just need to lay my head on the pillow. But still he couldn’t hold his tongue.
You are very expensive Pintu.
No, no Mr. Eliot, you are being our friend from Australia and if you are happy then we are happy Mr. Eliot and you are happy because you find your hotel. We have been having a long time finding your hotel.
Ok , Ok, no problem Pintu.
Eliot counted out the money, exactly 1500 rupees and handed the notes to Pintu.
You will be going where tomorrow?’
He knew without consideration that it was a case of the devil you know and if you had asked him in the morning he would say that he sort of liked Pintu and Ravi. They were like brothers, and may be they were, with a big head and a small head and their smiles were worldly and friendly and they said trust us so he would and it would be nice to see someone again in the morning who you sort of knew. Not like Carol and Ragini who had just passed by and were probably gone for ever.
I have to go back to the airport
