Heroes R Us

'Trying to forget all that's evil in this world. Trying to forget that we live in such bad times.'

Then he looked at Arnab and his expression brightened,

'And also hoping that your life continues to proceed in a smooth manner, untouched ever again by these things.'

Arnab thought Khan was referring to what he had been through with Upadhyay and Balwant Singh and said,

'Khan chacha, I've decided to leave that life behind me.'

Khan looked at him with a sad expression on his face and poured himself another drink, which he gulped down, as if seeking courage for what he was about to say next.

'That's why, Arnab, I feel so bad about asking you to be a part of that world again.'

Arnab was shocked at the old man's words.

'Khan chacha, I don't want to hurt your feelings again so I don't want to say anything I'll regret later, but that chapter is closed. Please let it remain that way.'

Khan put his hand on Arnab's arm, as if both to calm him and also to support himself.

'Arnab, it's not easy for me. I saw what they did to you, and I would not wish that on my worst enemy. But..'

Arnab interrupted him.

'But what? That there are people to be helped, that there is nobody to stand up for them? I buy all that, but where were all these people when I needed support? Why did nobody believe in me, but like an unthinking mob with no brains of their own, just believed blindly in what they were told?'

'Arnab, I cannot imagine what you feel, but you must realize, you are not like me or other ordinary people. God has given you a gift, and perhaps your destiny is to use that gift to help others, no matter whether they appreciate it or not.'

Arnab poured himself another peg, and in his agitation, gulped it down neat, coughing and wheezing as the rum scalded his throat. As he turned to face Khan again, the old man laughed,

'Superhero or not, you sure are no drinker.'

They both laughed, helping to defuse some of the tension in the room, as Arnab looked at Khan.

'I don't want this destiny or this gift. I have a choice, don't I?'

'Of course you do, Arnab. You can just ignore it, and that's what you had set out to do. I had reconciled to it myself, since I had no right to demand you put yourself in harm's way. But something's come up which forces me to ask for your help.'

'Khan chacha, I am not going to enter that world again to save a friend or two of yours from a couple of goons.'

Khan smiled sadly at Arnab,

'And my son, I would never be as selfish as to demand such a thing.'

'Then what is so important that you want me to return to the path I want to forget?'

'The lives of perhaps thousands of innocent people.'

Arnab was speechless.

***

Two days later, on a gloomy Saturday evening, Arnab and Khan were in a taxi, entering the small by lanes of the Jama Masjid area. Arnab was still hesitant about getting involved, and they were repeating the same conversation that they must have had a dozen times over the last two days.

'Khan chacha, why doesn't this friend of yours ask this man to go to the police?'

'Arnab, with no concrete evidence, do you think the police will believe him? Even if they did, if what he says is true, there may be no time left to do anything about it.'

Arnab was not convinced, but Khan had virtually begged with him to come along. Arnab figured he owed the old man at least that much.

The taxi passed through several small lanes, and came to a stop near a small electronics shop. Arnab and Khan got out and were met by a fat man wearing dirty jeans and a vest. Khan introduced him to Arnab, who by now was wearing his sweatshirt, his face hardly visible in the dark.

'This is Rashid, an old army friend. The man we are meeting lives in his house. Rashid, this is the friend who I said may be able to help you.'

Rashid looked at Arnab, and all he said was, 'If what the papers say about you is even half true, then perhaps you can indeed help.' Rashid filled Arnab in on the details as they entered the house next to the shop.

'About a month ago, this young man came to my house, asking if I had a room to rent out. I had a small loft above the house available and he seemed to be nothing more than a needy student so I said okay.'

They started climbing a set of winding stairs, as Rashid continued.

'For three weeks, I noticed nothing amiss. He would go out in the morning and come back late. He would keep to himself, and was no trouble to anyone. Then one day he came back looking really worried. He stopped going out and after a couple of days, I went to ask him if he was well. That's when he told me. Has Khan told you the story?'

'Only in brief. What is the full story?'

'Hear it from the horse's mouth."

With that Rashid knocked on a door at the top of the stairwell. It was opened on the second or third knock. As the door swung open and the three of them walked in, Arnab noted that the room was dark, with no lights on and the curtains drawn. Arnab saw a man huddled in the corner, and as the door opened, he got up and walked towards them. In the darkness, Khan still had not seen him, and when Arnab saw that the man was carrying a gun in his right hand, he stepped between Khan and the man, ready to disarm the man.

'Arif, relax. These are the friends I told you about. They are here to help you.'

The man seemed to relax a bit but kept the gun in his hand as he turned on a small table lamp. Arnab winced a bit as the light came on, but it was still dark enough for him to see clearly. He was young, perhaps barely out of his teens. He was clean-shaven, wearing jeans and a polo t-shirt and would not have looked out of place in a college campus. They sat down, Arnab and Khan on two small chairs and the young man on the bed in the far corner of the small room. He began speaking without any more pleasantries, as if he was keen to get what he had to say off his chest.

'My name is Mohammed Arif. I was born near Sopore in Kashmir. As I was growing up, many young boys would join the mujahids fighting Indian rule, but my parents insisted I focus on my studies. My father was closely linked to some of the mujahids. I never learnt the exact extent of his involvement, but he would disappear for days on end and always kept a gun at home. Then one day…'

He paused for a second before continuing.

'One day the Indian Police took my father away. We begged and pleaded, but we never saw him again. All we were told was that he was a terrorist. I was fifteen, and my heart was bursting with anger and a desire for revenge. One day I ran away from home and met an old friend who was rumoured to have links with people on the Pakistani side.'

Arnab and Khan were listening in silence, but Arnab was beginning to get impatient, wondering why he had been dragged here to listen to this young man's tale of woe. Arif noticed and held up a hand, as if to ask Arnab to wait.

'They trained us in a camp on the Pakistani side of the border. Basic infantry skills, weapons handling, explosives. The basic stuff. After two months, they started sending us across the border on raids. We were scared shitless, and most of us lost our minds the first time the Indian Army fired at us, but those that survived learned fast. Of the eight of us in my class, three never survived the first week. The five who survived were one day called by the camp commander, who said he had a guest who wanted to talk to us.'

Arnab was listening in silence, but he could feel Khan tense up next to him. Khan had served two tours of duty in Kashmir, and meeting someone, who from the account so far, was one of the terrorists he had killed and lost friends to, brought back uncomfortable memories.

'The man was an Afghan whose name I don't know, but he told us there was a big mission to be launched deep in India, to strike at the heart of the Indian government. I volunteered, hoping to get some real action. We were infiltrated into India and sent to Delhi, where we were asked to lay low for the next few weeks till we were contacted. I was beginning to get bored when a meeting was called. There were the five of us, and three men I didn't know, who seemed to be Afghans or Pashtuns. Their leader was a scary son of a bitch, and told us that the five of us would have to cover them in the mission, and neutralize anyone who got in their way.'