Twenty-seven one-arm chin-ups in forty-two seconds.
I heard the words spoken by Gopal Dutta and echoed by Adil from his viewpoint above. This record holds special importance for me, because it was to honour the memory of my best friend Adil. He died while trying to kill me but also provided strong inspiration for me to move forward through my span in determined and positive manner.
The world is full up with hidden traps in every direction the eye can see. You must be watchful and ready to leap if your foot touches on unfamiliar ground. When Adil came across a strange twig his desire was to test it. He jumped upon it to discover what was underneath, and underneath was nothing. Just a deep dark hole that he fell in. He was not satisfied with the place in which he was born. He wanted to take my place. The outcome was calamitous.
Such a calamity almost took me personally when Rajesh Battacharjee came calling. I had not associated with him for long time since the Bollywood scandal. I did not like the company he was keeping and he had lost face to the Bollywood producer when I walked away from the filming. There was a rift between us. However I welcomed him into my home as he was in state of disarray. I cannot turn my back on a person in need.
I listened with disbelieving ears as Rajesh Battacharjee told how he had reached a low point due to financial need and various projects failing to take off from the ground. He had become indebted to Mr Karkera, the Bollywood producer who had caused me such distress in past encounter. In order to repay debt and avoid a sticky end he had devised a plan for which he needed my help.
‘Mr Karkera is a very powerful man,’ Rajesh Battacharjee said. ‘You think he is just a Bollywood playboy but there is much about him that you do not know. You are fortunate, BB, you have rare skills which you can make into gold. I do not possess these gifts, all I have is my nose. I must follow it where it leads me to sniff out the best opportunities. Now we must both make up for these losses. It is lucky for us that my nose has found an alternative option.’
He told me quite frankly how he had been diverted from the straight path by his involvement in political world of Mumbai. In his role as elected corporator he had many opportunities to serve the needs of his community and advance conditions for the common man, but unfortunately greed had got the better of him. He had been using his position exclusively to fill his own belly. He confided to me sleazy details of his activities within office of development, accepting illicit payments to grease the wheels of several construction projects around my city, including fancy apartment complexes and retail sector. In return for these payments he would award contracts and fix paperwork so that work could begin without proper checks and assurances. Because of this many projects were halted midway through due to exhaustion of funds and others were allowed to progress to completion despite severe gaps in quality of materials and safety feature. Thus my city is looking like a concrete jungle with many broken branches, office blocks half built and standing empty, residential towers collapsing without warning due to low-grade concrete and many unfortunate souls crushed in the rubble. Only people to benefit are contractors and Rajesh Battacharjee and his fellow conspirators on planning board of municipal corporation.
This had been going on for many years and the thought that my former employer, who once lifted me up on his shoulders when times were hard for me, could be involved and happily profiting from this evil function brought tears rolling down my face.
‘Why did you do it?’ I asked.
‘Because it is the way things are done,’ Rajesh Battacharjee replied. ‘I am a family man, BB. I am just like you. I will do anything to protect my dear ones and make them happy. I came from nothing. To be born poor is no sin, but to die poor is foolish. I will not make that mistake.’
‘I too have come from nothing. But my heart is not filled with greed. This is a lonely path and it leads only to ruin.’
‘Not quite from nothing, BB. I gave you a job when you first arrived here. I gave you food when you were starving. Everything you have become now is because of me. This is why you cannot turn your back on me now.’
I was silent. Rajesh Battacharjee told me his plan for recovery of fortune and release from Mr Karkera’s jaws. He intended to announce through his contacts in construction industry a major new residential complex for the mainland, on undeveloped site in Andheri. It would attach all top features of modern standard, including state of the art sports facilities onsite, and would offer splendid accommodation to high-class residents from elite of Mumbai. The gymnasium would be named in my honour and he would like to use my image and the recognition I had achieved in my extreme sports career to promote the project. He said this would be a big boost in attracting the people to invest in the apartments. With my name attached they would be clambering to sign up for every available unit in the block. No work involved my end except lending my name and image and perhaps appearance on website conveying benefits of all the fitness equipment on offer. In return I would have satisfaction of knowing I saved his life from the clutches of bad men and perhaps a cash sum from pool of deposits when all the units were claimed.
At this point you may be thinking that this was not such an unhealthy deal. I would agree wholeheartedly were it not for the fact that no such apartment block would ever exist in reality. Rajesh Battacharjee planned to pocket the people’s deposits then make an announcement that the project had stalled due to unforeseen hitch-up. People would have no luck recovering their money as it was not legally protected. He might employ a fellow as front man to make the announcement, who would then flee when the backlash came. This way no public outcry would stick to him and his reputation would be preserved.
Also he asked me to provide muscle to protect him from Mr Karkera and his henchmen in duration of the scheme until it had been successfully completed. For this there may be a salary.
Needless to say I was shocked by this idea. I told Rajesh Battacharjee immediately that I could play no part in it. With a heavy heart I decided to remove his name from my history for ever.
‘It is wrong,’ I told him simply. ‘You cannot go through with this.’
‘I have no choice. He will kill me.’
‘I do not believe it. He is not so powerful that he can decide your fate in this way. Only God can do this. I will ask him to pick you up from this path and set you back on the correct route. When he has done this no harm will come to you. Now you must leave.’
Rajesh Battacharjee left my home vowing to proceed without my help. In the next days I spoke to him constantly to try and talk him into dropping his plan. But to no avail. Therefore I had no choice except to expose him. I could do nothing else, if only to protect the dignity of the common man whose pockets he wished to plunder.
Even knowing this would bring assassins to my door I would still have splashed the story. Such was my disappointment in Rajesh Battacharjee and the dishonour of men in general. I immediately began investigation with burning sense of commitment to the righteous cause. Using the words Rajesh Battacharjee had confided to me and my knowledge of Mr Karkera’s dealings gleaned from my time on set of Vengeance at Midnight I painted a sensational picture of corruption and violent lawbreaking at the heart of my city’s corporation. Some colleagues on my newspaper told me to leave this wound unpicked for fear of reprisal from powerful men but I was adamant the power of a truthful man would always be greater. My editor was unsure at first whether to publish my findings but I convinced him in the end with passionate plea.