"After all Qaadian and khooh is in my blood, tugs at me. So here I am."
Jagat was still searching for more words when Gamma said, "I'm worried. Gogi had left home to live with extended family but he was in still in Qaadian and safe, so I accepted it but it was harder for Puro. Sorry I kept it from you but he packs a gun, roams from place to place hiding from what: Puro doesn't know. She'll die if she finds out what her only child may be up to."
"I'm worried too; that's why I came as early as I could."
Gamma told him more; the morning after the Banto and Dushmun murders, Gogi had come to the khooh, first time in ages, happy and relaxed and said he just wanted to see how the khooh and everyone was doing.
"He was carrying a gun then too, I don't know what to do. Do something before ill luck strikes."
"I don't know where to begin," said Jagat.
"And there's more I never told you. He hated me and Puro living with you 'sucking up to the upper caste' he said and hated you even more for 'pretending to make us equal'." Jagat felt angry and hurt. Gogi was in danger of killing or being killed.
Chapter 57: The Police
Age and headwinds had slowed Jagat down and two hours alter than planned, his clothes drenched with perspiration, he stood in front of the District Police Headquarters in Zillapur. A constable sat against the gate post on a stool under the shade of a tahli, his eyes half open, the fly buzzing by his ears perching on the lower lip of his open mouth awakened him. Jagat walked past him to the "Superintendent of Police" written in white on the large doors. There too a cop sat on a stool under the overhang-cum-veranda. Believing the old man was at the wrong place he squinted at Jagat.
"Is the SP ji in?"
"Sahab will be in, in an hour."
Jagat looked around and a few yards away he noticed a hand pump and near it some men resting under the shade. He walked over, drank some water and Kirti, Sangram's age, sitting on two stacked bricks saw him examining the ground around the mango stem. He got up, moved his bricks next to the stem and said, "Baba ji sit here." Kirti needed police clearance for a passport for England and the police had been giving him the run around, he told Jagat.
"The SP Gurinder Singh's father Channan Singh served in the British police in Chajjuwara. The SP is raking bribes, claims I'm a Naxalite, a lie to extract a bribe."
"If you're bad it would make more sense to let you leave, no?" Kirti nodded and smiled.
Jagat walked over and checked a couple of times and was told the SP was still not in. It was 2.00 pm. Jagat wanted reach Chajjuwara at a reasonable hour. The bike and he both being on the ancient side, he needed several hours to make it. He was also running out of pranthas and achaar packed for the day trip.
"Alright Kirti, hope you get what you want from the SP, I've far to go."
Bike in hand, walking toward the SP's office Jagat was reflecting on the moment's irony: Before Independence the police came looking for him; now he was looking for the SP when a crow flew in front of him, his eyes followed the crow and noticed Ram walking away from the SP's office. Seeing Jagat back again the sentry said, "I told you SP Sahab isn't in." Jagat pushed open the door.
"You can't go in just like that man. The Sahab's room, get oout of there," the sentry yelled.
Jagat and the SP were face to face and at least six inches rtaller than five foot seven Jagat, the SP got up and looked down on him.
"Don't get up for the riff raff," said Jagat before repositioning a chair and sitting opposite the SP. "The sentry lied."
"Who are you to barge in here without permission?" the SP asked before turning to the sentry, "And Kikar Singh, who told you to let this man in?"
"Sir Sir he didn't ask."
"Gurinder Singh, nobody needing help from the police needs permission."
"What do you want?"
"You're here to serve us all but I suppose you're too busy catering to the likes of Ram."
"Do you know him?"
"Oh do I ever know him!"
"You still haven't told me what you need."
"Before I tell you what I need there's a young man, Kirti, waiting, sentry, go get Kirti from the water pump."
For the next few moments the SP sat and quizzically stared at Jagat before walking out to stop Kikar when saw Kikar was furiously running back with a young man in early twenties dressed Khaki kurta, pajama, turban big toes protruding from the sneakers he recognised from their previous encounter.
"You still here Baba ji, I thought you'd left for Chajjuwara," said Kirti.
"I found the SP here but only for important people and we aren't important enough."
Gurinder Singh squirmed; Jagat's audacity had dimmed his anger and the mention of Chajjuwara made him curious,
"I grew up in Chajjuwara," said the SP.
"I knew your father, he hadn't sold his soul while you've none." Kirti got his clearance.
"No passport for me. I'll die in India. I'm here for a boy named Gogi from Qaadian. He's like a son to me, hanging out with the Naxalites but he's not a bad kid. Promise me he won't end up in some fake encounter--nothing fake though about the bullets, the killer cops or the dead Naxalites. It's exta judicial murder."
"How do you know Gogi Qaadian?"
"I am from Qaadian; his father is my brother."
"By any chance is your name Jagat Singh?"
"Yes and I can't understand why India is executing men without trials. Violent politics is insane but executing in cold blood is criminal."
"My father always talked of you and I can see why and Gogi, why doesn't he follow your example?"
"The same way you don't follow your father's. One is known by the company one keeps and yours is the likes of Ram. Gogi is angry at the plight of the untouchables. Angry minds fall easy prey to the chimera of quick change;"
"He carries a gun. Everybody in the Punjab Coordination Committee of Communist Revolutionaries packs a gun except its head, who, too, is a dangerous man. its cadre did the recent shooting at a police station."
"Who heads the Committee?"
"I can't tell you but I can tell that recently Gogi had gone to Qaadian for a few hours. Sooner or later we'll catch up with him. Our informants fingered him in the police station shooting in which an officer died. You know what we do to cop killers."
"Because the government doesn't have the decency to prosecute the culprits, you, I know arrest, disarm and shoot them in the night on some canal bridge and then contend in the morning papers they were killed in a gun fight with the police, something only tyrants would do."
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