Of human love, vengeance and madness, ambition & fraility…
Team L&M
TV journalist and crime thriller writer Juggi Bhasin is back with an explosive new thriller Those Who Wait: When Revenge Clashes with Power (Notion Press). The tragic story takes the reader into the intense life of the powerful Tripathi family – a military family driven by ideals that gets drawn into the politics. The book has all the shades of emotions – love, vengeance and madness, ambition, and human frailty. Following is an excerpt from the book:
Chapter – 2 (pages 6-9)
A Man of Faith
A cursory look at two men talking in a narrow corridor amidst a scene of a communal cauldron would have told the neutral observer that one was the negotiating party and the other the one offering a deal: the only deal on the table. But a closer look showed it was not clear who the deal maker was and which the negotiating party.
The district collector, after a back and forth with Singh, folded his hands and pleaded with the Prime Ministerial contender.
‘Please Sir, I beg of you. Accept the offer. We can together defuse this situation. A simple apology is all that is required. Then we can all go home, and hopefully, this crowd will also retreat. A security crackdown on this crowd should be the last option. Scores will lose their lives if something like that were to happen. We would also not be able to guarantee your safety. And come to think of it, Sir… er… there has been some provocation from your end… you made an inflammatory speech in Azamgarh. You said Hindus have the first right to resources and all the others must queue up behind them for their turn. The Muslims are simply reacting to it….’ the DC tapered off.
Kanwar Pratap Singh’s permitted himself another smile. He patted the young officer on his shoulder and asked him, ‘You are Vinay Vaidya, right? A Saraswat Brahmin from Maharashtra?’
‘Indeed, Sir.’
‘Nice… very nice. Tell me, Vinay. Are you a man of faith?’
‘Yes sir. I am a deeply religious man… my entire family is….’
‘Good… very good, Vinay… now tell me, Vinay, as a man of faith, what do you understand by it?’
‘Faith?’
‘Yes, faith. What does faith mean to you?’
The collector paused to clarify his thoughts.
‘I believe in our traditions, in our rituals, in our worship of Lord Rama….’
‘Good, very good. You believe in Bhagwan Rama who some say is a mythological figure. The point is not that, young man. The point is, you believe in a belief. You believe in something. One could believe in a stone, a sculpture, a painting, or a godhead. The important thing is to believe. Do you know what I believe in?
‘I believe in the eight out of the ten people who surround me in this country. everywhere I go, that number never changes. Hindus are eighty per cent of the population. Why should I not believe in them? They are my faith, my belief. I believe in them, and I know what they believe in.
‘Go to the huts of the poorest of the poor. They might not have enough to eat, but they will certainly have a picture of Bhagwan Rama tucked in somewhere in their dwelling.
‘My critics dub me a communal person. Why? Because I believe in the eighty per cent? And I do not believe in a handful of people who have imposed their own version of history, religion, communal relations, and politics in this country contrary to all logic? People who only believe in serving the Sahays because it benefits them immensely?
‘I have told the people of Azamgarh nothing but the truth. What would you have, eighty per cent of the people first stand in line or the twenty per cent?
‘In the US, so many Presidents, before their swearing-in, head straight to a church in the Washington area to pay obeisance. No one yet has said they serve only Christians in that country. Then why pick on me? Because I am inconvenient to vested interest? I challenge the order. I challenge the Sahay dynasty.’
The district collector was stilled to silence momentarily by the passion in the older man’s words. Then he recovered.
‘I hear you, Sir… but germane to our issue, we still have a problem here. How do you suggest we resolve it?’
The negotiation was over as far as Kanwar Pratap Singh was concerned. He came to the point. There was steel in his voice.
‘Now listen to me very carefully, Collector. I am coming to Delhi. I will not be stopped. And I have a long memory. I do not usually inhabit a grey zone. My world is black and white. I distinguish between friends and foes. The rest is up to you. Your choice, really.’
The collector shivered, and out of habit, bit his lip. Then he answered.
‘Tell me what you wish for, Sir. I will do it.’
Kanwar Pratap Singh nodded grimly.
‘Good. I will remember this. You will be more useful to me in a job rather than out of it. Tell them you failed in the negotiation. Don’t do anything but just keep the crowd at bay. Around 10 at night, restore the internet link for an hour. That is all the time I need to swing the situation in my favour. You got that?’
