“Taxi.” Sumeet shouted at a passing black-and-yellow Fiat, the trademark Mumbai taxi. The cab drove right past him.
“Stop.” He shook his fist. “Stupid fucking taxis.”
“Chill man, maybe that guy is done for the day.” His buddy Prakash said.
“Yeah, we’ll get another one.” Naveen agreed.
Sumeet scowled and muttered to himself. He pushed back his curly locks of hair, which he hadn’t cut or even combed for months. A few minutes later, they found a taxi.
“Man, I’m exhausted.” Prakash said, as he sunk into the back seat. Clean-shaven and with a military-length haircut, he was the shortest of the three. “These evening tution classes kill me.”
“Welcome to second semester Engineering.” Naveen said. The thinnest of the three, he ducked his six-foot tall frame into the front seat. “Life is gonna be like that now.” He toyed with the dial of his brand new Titan watch.
Sumeet, the most muscular of the three, bustled into the back seat, and slammed the door shut. “Napeansea Road.”
There was traffic in Bandra, even at eight in the evening. A cacophony of car horns complimented the smell of exhaust fumes. They stopped at a red light, next to an occupied rickshaw.
“Fuck you,” Sumeet yelled at the rickshaw, for no apparent reason.
“What happened?” Naveen asked.
“Fuck everyone.” Sumeet glared outside.
“What’s with him?” Naveen asked Prakash this time.
Prakash rolled his eyes. “You know, the usual.”
“Girl trouble?” Naveen said.
“You know that babe Priya?” Prakash said. “Our man has a crush on her.”
Naveen nodded. He removed his rectangular-framed spectacles and wiped them. “She is quite hot.”
“Priya is just a bitch.” Sumeet said.
“Ooooh, bahut yaarana lagta hai,” Prakash grinned. Naveen laughed.
“Shut up,” Sumeet growled. “She doesn’t return my calls. Did you see how she ignored me in class today?”
“Man, forget about her.” Prakash said. “She’s not worth it.”
“Fuck her.” Sumeet said. “Fuck them all.”
At the next signal, Sumeet again cursed at nearby cars.
“Take it easy.” Naveen said. “Why abuse random people?”
Sumeet ignored him. He turned to a green Fiat, which had a driver and one passenger. “Fuck you’ll, haraams.” He flipped his middle finger at them. “Bhen Chod”
Naveen shook his head. He rolled his window down for air, with his elbow sticking out. Their taxi drove on, and Sumeet abused away to his heart’s content. They were halfway home when Prakash turned around and looked behind. He did this a few times in quick succession. “You know what? That green Fiat our man abused is following us.”
“No way, man.” Naveen dismissed the notion. “That was ten minutes ago. They can’t have followed us all the way.”
“Yeah,” Sumeet said. “Why would they do that?”
“Look, I don’t know why and shit,” Prakash said. “All I know is that two cars behind us, I see a green Fiat that looks exactly same.”
Naveen craned his neck. “I don’t see it.”
Sumeet looked around. “Yeah, I don’t see it too.”
“Wait,” Sumeet paused. “Actually, maybe you’re right. I think it’s in the left lane.”
Naveen leaned outside. “What you guys talking about? Where is…”
A screech of tires on concrete cut him off. A Fiat pulled alongside them, green like a leaf. From the front seat, a pair of bloodshot red eyes stared at them, without blinking. The face had a thick beard and the shoulders were the widest that Sumeet had ever seen. The man looked like Sanjay Dutt’s gangster character in the movie Vaastav.
Sumeet felt his pulse rate increase. Naveen pulled himself inside the cab. His face had gone white. Prakash shrunk lower into the back seat.
“Stop the car ahead.” The red eyes never left them as the man said this. It was a command, not a request.
Their cabbie looked across at the green Fiat. Without a word, he pulled the taxi over.
In a flash, the back seat door of their taxi flung open. Outside stood Mr. Red Eyes. Sumeet felt black sandals strike his chest with full force.
“Aaarghhh.” Sumeet screamed. Mr. Red Eyes kicked him again.
“Who you calling bhen chod?” Mr. Red Eyes asked. He grabbed Sumeet’s t-shirt and hauled him outside. He brought his right hand up and slapped Sumeet’s face with the back of his palm. It was the best executed backhand Sumeet had seen in all his years of tennis, complete with back swing and follow through.
Sumeet tasted his own blood. His cheeks burned like a kitchen stove. He brought his hands together. “Please bhaiya, sorry.”
“Take him,” Mr. Red Eyes told the driver of the green Fiat. A stocky man with a twisted frown pushed Sumeet into the back seat of the Fiat.
All this while, Naveen had not moved a muscle. His limbs were frozen stiff as he watched the scene unfold. Mr. Red Eyes stood in front of him. A heavy hand smacked the right side of his face. Naveen yelped and held his face. It was the forehand slap this time.
“Please,” Naveen joined his hands in prayer. Mr. Red Eyes took no notice, caught Naveen’s t-shirt and jerked it upwards. His neck struck against the car door. His new watch hit the door handle, its dial smashed. Mr. Red Eyes did this again. And again.
Naveen moaned. “Please stop.” The searing pain in his neck was becoming unbearable. An open palm smacked his face. His glasses flew off, and hit the door. Naveen saw his frame broken into two pieces. One lens had come off, cracked.
“What you gesturing at us, ha?” Mr. Red Eyes told Naveen, sticking his elbow outward.
“I…I…I was just sitting,” Naveen stammered. Mr. Red Eyes slapped him again.
Naveen cried out. His eyes were on the verge of tears. “Please let me go, please, please.”
Mr. Red Eyes turned to Prakash, who cowered in the back seat, with his eyes were open wide and his jaw dropped down. He kicked Prakash in the shins.
“Owwww” Prakash reacted, clutching his foot. The black sandals thumped against his mid-riff. His face contorted in agony.
“Please stop, bhiaya.” Sumeet said, from the back seat of the green Fiat.
The Fiat driver glared at him. “Why did you’ll have to abuse like that?” He pointed at Mr. Red Eyes. “You pissed him off.”
“Please bhaiya, we are just kids.” Sumeet said.
The driver didn’t respond. His eyes had a glint of sympathy. Mr. Red Eyes slapped Prakash with a backhand, leaving him crouched on the floor.
The driver asked Sumeet, “How old are you’ll?”
“We are in first year of college,” Sumeet replied.
“How did you’ll college kids have such nerve? What is wrong with you’ll?” The driver shook his head.
“Sorry bhaiya, we didn’t know what we were doing.” Sumeet said. “We are small kids.” Sumeet touched his own face. A tooth of his had come loose. He watched his two friends get beaten for no fault of theirs. He felt a twinge of guilt. Damn that Priya. This was her fault.
“Please bhaiya,” Sumeet pleaded. “It will never happen again. We are very sorry.”
The driver looked at him with a penetrating gaze.
Mr. Red Eyes landed another blow, this time to Prakash’s thighs. Prakash didn’t have the energy to even scream. He remained down and waited, like a lamb to be slaughtered.
“Please bhaiya,” Sumeet persisted. “Please leave us, we are small kids.”
The driver looked at him, and at the faces of Prakash and Naveen.
“Ok, that’s enough.” He nudged his passenger, Mr. Red Eyes. But, Mr. Red Eyes brushed him off and planted a backhand slap on Naveen, who didn’t make a sound.
The driver held Mr. Red Eyes arms. “Ok, stop now. They are kids. You already hurt them enough.” His voice had an undertone of reproach.
Mr. Red Eyes glared back at the driver. He looked at the boys, and then at the driver again. He nodded. “Let’s go.”
Sumeet was shoved back into the cab. The green Fiat started up and disappeared as quickly as it had come.
The three friends sat in silence, as their taxi drove ahead. Prakash rubbed different parts of his body. Naveen bent down to retrieve his broken glasses.
“Are…Are you guys alright?” Sumeet managed to say.
“Do we look alright?” Naveen responded, not hiding his sarcasm.
“How’s your neck?” Sumeet gently touched Naveen’s neck. “I’m really sorry this happened.”
“Why the hell did you have to abuse strangers like that?” Naveen said.
“I don’t know,” Sumeet leaned back. “I don’t know what got into me. I was just frustrated. I’m really, really sorry.”
Naveen massaged his neck. “I think I’m just bruised. I’ll live.”
“You okay, Prakash?” Sumeet put a hand on his buddy’s shoulder.
“I…I guess so.” Prakash said.
“My glasses are smashed.” Naveen said. “Also my watch is cracked.”
“We’ll get it fixed tomorrow,” Sumeet said. He noticed that his own t-shirt was torn. “I’ll pay for everything.”
“No man, don’t worry.” Naveen waved him off.
“You’ll be fine.” Sumeet said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll all be fine.”
Sumeet couldn’t shake off the image of the bloodshot eyes. The moment he had seen those eyes, he had known they were in trouble.
They dropped Naveen off first. He lumbered out of the car. “I guess we should be thankful.”
“Thankful?” Sumeet asked.
“Yeah, we could have been killed. We got off easy.”
“Yup,” Sumeet agreed. “Take care, man. See you tomorrow.”
Their wounds healed, but Sumeet had nightmares about that night. In the years that followed, the three of them rarely spoke of the incident. But whenever Sumeet saw a green Fiat, a shiver went down his spine.
