It was sharp at 6:15 AM when, Duronto Express left me nomadic at the Mumbai Central Railway Station. It was early morning but Mumbai had awakened, as always they had awakened and alacrity in the atmosphere was evident. I had decided to stay at the Gujarati Samaj Guest House at Andheri (W). I hired a taxi for around 25-30 minutes drive to Shri Gujarati Bhavan from the station (provided we don’t get into famous Mumbai Traffic). Early morning ride on the Bandra-Worli Sea Link definitely made my day, it indeed was invigorating. Mumbai was still not at its fastest on 6:15 AM and I was also in no hurry at all.
At around 10 in the morning, I got ready and moved to meet PSI Nirang Dave. He was the PSI at the Andheri Police Station, situated on the M.V.Road, at the walking distance from where I stayed. The morning scene at the Police Station wasn’t so refreshing though, a few constables were shouting in some abrupt Marathi, an almost drunk alike guy was sitting on the floor and the constable over there was treating him like a street dog, two ladies on the left were busy narrating for the complaint they wanted to lodge on the another table. I saw a young guy, with very thin and well trimmed moustache, fair complexion, long face, tiny eyes searching something in his files, he was in pure silence amongst the swarming police station.
“Mr. Nirang Dave?” I hesitatingly asked standing in from of his table, he just nodded in the answer.
“Hi, Advik; I hope you got the call regarding my visit here.” I took the seat in from of him as he signaled me to have it.
“Oh… Hi Advik; I got the call regarding your visit here and the reasons as well.”
“Good then I guess I won’t have to repeat the story.” I felt comforted; I was tired of reciting it to everyone.
“Hmmm..!! I didn’t got one thing though, why are you interested in it. Even Police has shut the case, it’s all over.” He said as chottu left two cups of special cutting at the table.
“Ouch…!! Because, somewhere I know this wasn’t the accident.” I said taking back my hand from the glass of tea; it was as hot as the tea.
“Look, even I can’t help you out in any manner on the records. Off the records, I took the information of the number, on which Mr. Shah talked to that person. He is some local guy who helps people convert their black money into white; the entry business. Being a CA you know it much much better than me I guess.” He smiled putting stress on the last line, exposing his yellowed teeth.
I immediately left for the Vithalwadi, via local train to meet the man with whom Sanjay Sir talked on the phone. At that very point, I realized what Mumbai is all about, there was not even a place to put a foot on the railway station, everyone was busy running for themselves but none really had time even for their own selves, they just wanted to run, run and run. As I Boarded a Train, I felt it was the final journey of my life, My body was almost hanging on the door holding an aluminum bar over there, one half of mine was in the train other was slinging outside, didn’t know where my left leg was and where was the right one (if this was situation in the ‘First Class Coach’, only god knows how it will be in the ‘General Coach’). As I got out of the Railway Station totally exhausted, I didn’t had much energy left to walk till the place I wanted to be at, so I hired a Taxi.
The Place was actually situated in between Vithalwadi and Ulhasnagar, the taxi driver tried to explain the same in half broken Hindi mixed with Marathi words which I didn’t understood at all. He kept on talking throughout the fifteen minute journey till we stopped near some municipal primary Marathi school. As I stepped down the taxi, I show the other face of the Mumbai, which I wasn’t familiar with nor did I heard about it anywhere.
It wasn’t the one which caught the headlines all the time; it wasn’t the shinning face of the city of glamour but the dark side face of the city which was famous for its glamour and shine. There were loads of excreta, filth everywhere, smell of local alcohol was evident in the atmosphere and some cattle were wandering here and there; some half naked children were busy eve-teasing those poor animals. Puddles of dirty water were everywhere on the streets, a girl threw a stone in one of them and some drops of dirty rain water flew on my sky blue shirt, I eyed towards her from the corner of my eyes. Even worst of the village of the Gujarat will be better than this part of the “Finance Capital of India”.
I entered a small Kholi, A guy was sitting on an ages old wooden chair, wearing white baniyan and checkered shorts (I am exaggerating stating white, it didn’t looked white from any angle with the different colored stains all over it), He was of jet black complexion (in his comparison baniyan definitely can be said to be white), his hair were turned grey, he looked middle aged, youth had waved him good bye but aging hadn’t caught him totally yet, he was hanging in between.
“Atmaram Bhide…!” I politely inquired knocking at the door.
“Yes, who are you?” I was surprised at such an effortless English accent of him
“Hello, I am Advik.” I handed over my visiting card to him.
“Advik Mehta, Chartered Accountant; Advik quite a strange name, isn’t it?” He said going through my card.
“It is indeed a unique one; in fact it also means to be unique. In my caste there is competition amongst parents to keep the name which others found hard to articulate.” I think I said it more to myself then the person standing in front of me.
“Oh…!!! You are ‘Nagar’ by caste…!” I was surprised to know that even here in Mumbai people knew about us.
“Yeaah..!! So can we talk some business now?”
“Business…. Who gave you my reference?”
“Mr. Sanjay Shah, Ahmedabad, I used to work for him.” His facial expressions totally changed hearing the name. He got more attentive, I thought so.
“Actually one of my clients is in need of entry of Rs.10 Crores, quality and quantity like here I won’t get anywhere else, that I was convinced after talking with Mr. Shah.”
“My commission would be 2.5%.” He made it totally clear.
“That’s bit high. Normally it’s done at around 1.50 to 1.75%, still I can give you maximum 2% not more.”
“Ask anyone in whole of Mumbai, no one can give it the way I do and dus khokha is not a small amount.”
“Okey, I will have to ask my client. I can’t say yes before his consent.”
“As you wish, I am going nowhere.”
“By the way why you people killed Mr. Shah?” His face was worth looking, felt like someone had caught him by his balls.
“What..?? Who told you this non-sense?” He was fluttering.
“Mr. Shah himself. Look sirji; you tell everything about your body to your doctor in a similar way you tell everything about your financials to your CA. I knew quite a few things about you and your so called famous god fathers (I just knew the fact that he had some god father above him, except that I had no clue what so ever, but why to disclose the same). But it’s none of my business.”
“He was being over smart and trying to get all of us including boss in the tangle so it was better to take him out of the way and you better zip off your mouth or you also might end up auditing his accounts in the hell as well.” He definitely sounded amazed at the fact that I knew a few things which were expected not to be known to anyone.
“Well, it’s none of my business, as I told u before also. I will catch you soon as soon as I get approval from my client, bye.” I thought it was better to take his leave at that point of time, my job was done.
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