'Sir, I may have some information that there could be a terrorist attack on the match.'
Aggarwal's eyes widened in alarm.
'Really? What do you know? Tell me!'
Arnab realized just how pathetic he sounded without any details to offer, and he was not sure he wanted to reveal his interactions with Arif lest it get him into even more trouble with the cops. So he just said that with it being an India-Pakistan match, and the Prime Minister in attendance, with the heightened tensions on the border and the recent spate of bombings and terror attacks in Indian cities, he had heard it could be a prime target.
'Isn't there any way you could change the venue or postpone the match?'
Aggarwal looked at Arnab with a quizzical expression, as if to see if he was joking. Finally he said, 'An event like this will get its share of threats. India and Pakistan are playing after many months, and both governments want to make sure it goes off smoothly. My security guys tell me we already have six threatening calls so far, and guess what, every single one of them turns out to be some joker looking for publicity. All the tickets are sold out, and there's no reason to cancel it. Also, with the PM there, this would be more secure than anywhere else in the city.'
He lit up a cigarette, and changed the subject, indicating that the topic was closed. Arnab was disappointed, but not really surprised. All it meant was that on the day of the match, he would have nobody else to look to for help. He outlined to Aggarwal what his terms and conditions were, and in ten minutes, he was on his way home, wondering if what he had in mind would be even barely sufficient when the time came.
***
The week leading up to the match seemed to crawl along at such an agonizingly slow pace that Arnab thought the tension would drive him crazy. While he tried not to think too much about what might happen on the day, there was no escaping the fact that he was headed into a situation that he was barely prepared for. Many months ago, when he had looked at himself in the mirror and contemplated what was happening to him, he had wondered if it was his destiny or a curse to be endowed with such powers. Now, he realized that whether or not it was his destiny, or just chance, it was indeed a curse to be in his position. When he had been just a middle-class librarian with nothing special about him, life had seemed simpler. Sure, he realized so much around was rotten, but the helplessness of knowing he could do nothing to change it in a perverse sort of way led to a sort of contentment, or acceptance at any rate. Ever since he had come to grips with his new powers, he had fooled himself into believing that perhaps he could make a difference, perhaps there indeed was a way one man could change things for the better. Now, bitter, defeated and having to be a part of that very system to achieve his objectives, he realized just how little he had understood about the way the world worked. If there was to be any redemption, it lay in foiling whatever attack was planned on the day of the match.
It struck Arnab that he had stopped worrying about what would happen afterwards. He had almost forgotten about joining the bank, which at one time had been his dream job. He saw the suitcase filled with more money than he could ever imagine, but didn't really think about what he would do with it. Perhaps he was just so focused on the day of the match, or perhaps, he didn't really think he would live to see what lay beyond, since he would be in the markedly unenviable position of being in the sights of both the police and the terrorists.
As a result, he spent that last week trying to close the open loops in his life. He went to work every morning for three days, working at express speed to complete the project he had promised to finish before leaving. When he finally unveiled it to Jayantada, the old man told Arnab, his voice cracking with emotion.
'My boy, this will always remind me of you when you're gone.'
'I hope this does as well, Jayantada. Thank you for everything.'
Arnab handed over a bulky package to Jayantada, and when he opened it, he found a leather bound edition of War and Peace.
Jayantada chuckled and then hugged Arnab, not even trying to hold back the tears. To his surprise, Arnab found his own eyes fill with tears. He knew he would miss the old man, and as he wished him goodbye, he was glad he could at least restore Tolstoy to his rightful pride of place on the library's shelves. After all, it had been the unplanned demonstration of Tolstoy's boxing skills that had set him on this path to begin with.
Next on Arnab's list was a call to Mishti. She seemed to be very surprised to receive his call, but he felt none of the nervousness he had felt when he had spoken to her earlier.
'Hi Mishti. Jayantada told me about your upcoming engagement, and I wanted to wish you all the best.'
That broke the ice.
'Why, thanks Arnab! That's really sweet of you. What happened to your own plans?'
'Just a few days more and I'll know for sure.' He said, only half lying.
'Listen, Mishti, I am sorry if I hurt you in any way. I was just stupid, I guess. Perhaps I should have given some indication earlier of where I stood.'
He could almost hear Mishti's voice catch, and he cautioned himself. He just wanted to part on a happy note, not dig up past memories, so he changed his tone to a more cheery one.
'But all's well that ends well, right? You've got your knight in shining armour and I've got my own plans. Just be happy and all the best again.'
'Hey, Arnab, I will let you know when the marriage gets fixed, but do try and come.'
'Mishti, all depends on where my plans take me. But if I'm around, I'll be there.'
As he hung up, he realized that no matter how much he had tried to convince himself that he had forgotten about Mishti, he was wrong. Talking to her again brought back memories, and regrets, and he almost wished he had not called her at all. Well, there was no point in thinking about the past, was there? He certainly didn't have the time for it.
Finally, the day before the match, he went to meet Khan.
'Arnab, where the hell have you been? What are you up to?'
Arnab walked into Khan's house, lugging the suitcase Aggarwal had given him.
'Khan chacha, I am off on the mission and I came to say goodbye.'
Khan exploded in anger.
'Goodbye, my ass! I am going with you, wherever you're headed to. We are a team, remember?'
When Arnab looked at Khan, he surprised both of them with the tears that had welled up in his eyes.
'More than a team, Khan chacha. You're the closest thing to a family I've had.'
The old man's face softened, as he held Arnab's hand.
'My boy, take me along. You don't have to do this alone.'
'No, Khan chacha. This is something I have to do alone. I can't have you get hurt.'
'Then, my boy, I'll follow you.'
'I can run faster than you', said Arnab with a grin.
Khan laughed and as Arnab sat down, Khan disappeared, reappearing with a bottle of rum and two glasses.
'Then at least, you can get drunk with me.'
As he filled the glasses, Khan said that Arnab was making him feel old and useless.
'Not at all, Khan chacha. In case I don't make it back, I want you to carry on the fight. If I do, then, well, our team is back in business.'
The two drank till late, and Arnab went to sleep in Khan's living room. The next morning, Khan woke up to find Arnab gone and a large suitcase near his bed. A small note on the suitcase said.
'I trust you'll put this to good use in case I don't come back.'
***
The day of the match was more pleasant than any summer day in recent memory. The temperature threatened to get unbearable by noon, but by evening had settled at a comfortable level, helped along with by a brisk breeze blowing from the Yamuna river. The sky was clear, and commentators were already proclaiming that it was a perfect day for the match. A day-night affair, the match was to begin at six in the evening, and by the time it ended at about eleven, it was estimated that close to a hundred thousand fans would be crammed into the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium in Delhi, and several hundred million others would be watching the action on television.