Source: TW
It was early in the morning and there was a knock on the door. Vikas was too tired to even think about who it could be. He opened the door.
Outside was a bearded man, his eyes lined with kohl and anger. Behind him were two hefty men carrying what appeared to be heavy sticks.
“Vikas?” asked the man. Vikas nodded and noticed the name on his green-and-green uniform. Abdul Malik.
“You have not given away sufficient wealth and assets, Vikas,” questioned Abdul.
“I’ve already done what is needed,” said Vikas feebly. “All my TDS and WDS are done.”
WDS was a new scheme, Wealth Distributed at Source, which took away a specific portion of the salary towards, well, wealth distribution.
A new Ministry of Wealth Redistribution (MoWeR) was created by the new government to oversee the ruthless execution of its objectives. The initiative, without any irony, was called JaWaHAR, Jawahar Wealth and Human Asset Redistribution, a recursive acronym indicating the endless cycle.
It was an inside joke that the HA in JaWaHAR stood for Hindu Asset, because like the RTE Act, the RTW Act exempted minorities.
“Not so fast, Vikas,” said Abdul and peeped into the simple apartment. The hall was mostly bare except for some old molded chairs. A framed certificate, mandatory, hung on the opposite wall indicating that Vikas was a “Citizen Happily Espousing Wealth Transfer Inspiring All.”
“I’ve barely enough for my own needs,” protested Vikas. “With the increase in taxes I’ve to cut down even on food.” Vikas was shrivelled.
“Selfish,” spat Abdul. “Give a thought to the poor, the women, the minority.”
Vikas feebly said, “But JaWaHAR has already addressed that.”
“Just by giving away a small portion of your wealth you will solve poverty?” Abdul asked. “Our family has grown, Vikas. We have more refugees pouring in.”
“What do you want?”
Abdul signaled his two men who entered the house and took out the molded chairs and the moldy curtains. One of them signaled at the small mandir and Abdul nodded.
Vikas shouted, “It’s an offering from my friends for Rām Navmi.”
The man ignored Vikas and took away the sum total of ₹84 in cash.
“My family has grown too,” said Abdul. “Who is going to pay for my latest newborn?”
Vikas was too tired to even think how JaWaHAR effectively sidestepped the very government which had proposed the scheme because those who wanted something got it through sheer intimidation in the name of the same government.
Vikas, clearly, was not the focus of the government.
After a pause, Abdul said, “Do you know, Vikas, that my elder boy is at a marriageable age?” and then stared eerily behind Vikas.
Instinctively, Vikas turned around and found his family standing near the bedroom door: his wife, Tina, his elder daughter, Devi, and his son, Ram. On hearing this the family swiftly hid inside while Vikas felt numb as cold fear gripped him. He felt his heart trying to rip itself out of his body, perhaps to escape being caged inside a deadened soul.
“A daughter is an asset,” rubbed in Abdul. “Don’t you bastards believe so?”
Vikas was terrified. “She’s just 13,” he pleaded, as if that was an argument.
Abdul smiled.
Vikas, finding a mote of defiance from deep inside, yelled, “Get out of my house, beasts!”
One of the men stepped forward, looked at Vikas, and whacked one straight across his face. Vikas swooned on the floor as drops of blood, type O+, trickled on the floor. Tina ran towards him, crying, holding him in her arms, shaking him, pleading with the men to leave him, to leave them, alone. The son and the daughter stood numb behind Vikas, not knowing what to do.
“For his temerity I could book him for communal violence,” said Abdul, alluding to the new act. “No questions asked and you know what that means, don’t you? You won’t see him ever again.”
“Take what you want,” whimpered Tina, “but leave us alone.”
Vikas moaned in pain, dazed. Abdul looked at Tina, and then at the daughter, and said with a crooked smile, “I am a reasonable man.”
Laughing, he left along with the two men.
A while later Vikas heard the sound of an ambulance, faint at first, then becoming louder until he realized what was happening. He switched off the alarm, sat up on his bed sweaty, tense, breathless, and looked at his wife who was still asleep.
With some hesitation he opened the main door and stepped out. The Sun still had some distance to cover before erasing the darkness of the Night with its rays.