Love Lasts Forever (26 page)

             
There is a collective gasp from all of us. A wave of trepidation sweeps past the bridge. Within seconds the room gets filled with hushed murmurs. I am greeted with frightened looks wherever I look.
Are they serious? Are they really going to kill us?
Anxious faces turn all around and finally settle at Captain for some sort of…
assurance. Please help us, sir.

             
‘No, no…,’ Captain says, slowly rising to his feet; the burden of expectations weighing down on him. He folds his hands. ‘Please, please, don’t do any such thing. I’m trying my best to get your money. The company-’

             
‘SHUT UP CAPTAIN!’ The pirate takes a step forward and slaps him twice, his hands running back and forth across Captain’s face. Three other pirates walk up to him and stand behind, glaring down at Captain. ‘You’re not trying your best, you bastard; else we already get our money…’ He draws an ominous sigh and turns toward us, his eyes scanning as if deciding who he would…
kill first
.

             
‘YOU!’ he says, pointing at the deck cadet with a scowl. ‘Come here. And you, over there…yes you, come out mother fucker. Both of you sitting behind over there, come out, enough of your company’s bullshit. When some of you will die only then will they understand.’ He spoke through gritted teeth and continued running his eyes through us.
Perhaps he isn’t done yet…

My pulse quickens
and a cold sweat breaks across my forehead at the sight of his finger. It is pointing at me
.

‘Hey you
, asshole!’ I freeze. ‘You also, come out now.’

              All five of us share petrified looks with each other and then with Captain before making our way toward them.
We’re all gonna die…?
My breathing has grown laborious and I fight the huge lump in my throat.
This can’t be happening…

             
‘Sir, please,’ Captain says, his hands back together, ‘please don’t do this.’

             
His words barely register.
You can’t help us Captain!
No one can help us now!
Within seconds my body has grown numb, my blood cold.

             
The pirate yanks his gun upward and prods its barrel into Captain’s chest with all his force. Captain staggers to his feet and falls.

‘Captain!’
he growls. ‘Never tell us what we should or shouldn’t do, OK. Never tell us!’

A minute later they make us stand in a line.
My hands are pulled behind my back and I feel an abrasive rope around them. And then it becomes tight, really tight. Next a soft yet stinking cloth grazes across my face. Then everything goes black.

‘Do you have any last wish, you bastards, ha, ha?’

With my hands tied back and eyes pressed close with a black cloth, I hear one of them
sneering.

             
Few minutes earlier with the cold barrel pressed behind our back all five of us were made to disembark the ship. We walked for a few minutes on what felt like soft mud under the directions of few of the pirates behind us.

Now, s
tanding motionless, I can feel beads of sweat dripping from my forehead. My mouth has gone completely dry. Above us the birds squawk merrily in oblivion to what’s happening below them, and there is the sound of waves crashing against the shore to my left. Other than that I can almost hear my heart pounding against my chest.
I’ll die in a few minutes…
All those thoughts about Aisha, a divorce with her, the scrambled pieces of Captain’s unfinished story flash in my mind. Do they really mean anything now?

It’s weird
, I thought,
only when you are about to lose your life, you realize the true meaning of it.

             
‘Nobody has a last wish?’ the same pirate says again. ‘OK then, be ready to die!’

             
Behind my back I clench my fists.
So this is it! Goodbye Aisha!

             
And then I hear a series of gun-shots.

4
0. Time to get the answers

August 2011
, Somewhere in Somalia

Until this ship I’d never heard the sound of a gun-shot. It is terrifying. More so when you can feel it directed at you. But few shots later I sense something is wrong. There isn’t a single bullet that has pierced my flesh. And then I realize it...

             
They aren’t shooting at us. They are firing in the air. It is just a mock execution, perhaps meant to scare us.

             
‘Bastards!’ one of them yells. I hear them approaching us; there is the sound of shoes squishing the damp mud below. ‘We’ll not kill you so easily,’ one of them says in a hoarse voice. ‘And not now!’ he adds.

             
And then they start hitting us. I wince in pain every time the hard metal strikes my body in hard, crushing blows. It’s either a rod or the gun itself. I retract behind slowly with every passing blow and the pirates follow me. Together with my screams I hear the wails of my four other companions beside me. We all plead for them to stop, but they don’t. I feel the warm, sticky fluid oozing out through my left elbow. I crash to the ground falling on my back. The blows continue.

             
‘All of you!’ one of them screams. ‘Go back on your ship and call your home and tell your families to force the company to pay us our money. Tell them that we torture you, we hit you. Tell your families to put pressure on the company, and if they still don’t pay ransom,
then
we’ll kill you, OK. No more firing in the air then.’

             
They continue hitting interspersing the blows with their heaving kicks.

‘OK, do you all understand?’

              ‘Yes…yes, sir.’ All five of us cry in unison.

When we board back our ship and enter the bridge, all heads turn to us. Hands fly to shut gaping mouths and fearful eyes greet us. I can hear a couple of feeble
Thank God’s!

The pirates
had released our hands and removed the black cloth from our eyes on our way to the bridge. All five of us, I notice, have bruises and winced expressions. I have pressed my right hand tight against my left elbow to obviate loss of blood.

             
The pirates lead us to the satellite phone and ask us to call our families one by one.

             
‘Hey Captain!’ one of them growls. ‘You also come here and speak to their family and the company.’ Captain skitters toward us. ‘And say that we almost killed them today.’

Captain nods and passes me a faint smile. I can see from his
pained expression he is relieved to see all of us alive. I smile back trying my best to hide my pain. He understands, comes closer, and ties a rag around my elbow. Thankfully the pirates say nothing. I resist the urge to embrace him.

             
After the other four crewmembers were done sobbing and pleading on the phone, it is my turn. Calling Aisha was out of contention. I call my mother. She picks up after three rings and just my
hello
makes her cry. I tag along with her and recount the day’s events together with the harrowing images of the last two months. Through her tears she says she’s been calling Sahni uncle everyday and following up the case. Before I could say anything else one of them grabs the handset.

‘OK, enough, now,’ he says
. ‘Go back to your places.’

             
Sensing the opportunity I slowly follow Captain eyeing the vacant spot next to him. I crash on the floor with him on his left and heave a huge sigh.
Time to get the answers to all my questions!

Although
in pain, I want him to complete his story. Next time pirates won’t shoot in the air and I don’t want to die before I get my answers.

             
After all I’ve been waiting for them since the last two months.             

41. The diary

August 2011
, Somewhere in Somalia

‘Tell me what do you want to know?’ Captain whispers leaning into me after five minutes.             

Things have slowly settled
and everyone is back at their place.

             
I smile despite the pain. ‘How did you know I want to ask you something?’ I say, cradling my left elbow in my right arm. Thankfully no more blood is oozing out.

             
He returns the smile. ‘Your eyes told me,’ he says, ‘the way they have been gawking at me for the last two months.’

             
I chuckle and glance over my shoulder to the right. The pirates are busy smoking marijuana and nattering in their language. Some of our crewmembers are trying to catch some sleep while others are just twiddling around.

             
‘So then tell me,’ I say, settling my eyes back at Captain.

             
‘How’s the pain?’ he says, motioning toward my elbow.

             
‘Manageable,’ I say. ‘At least now I’ve something to put my mind to, the pain I mean, better than sitting idle.’

             
He grins. ‘I wish I could have stopped them.’

             
‘Nobody could have, sir,’ I say. ‘They are ruthless.’

             
He nods and eyes me intensely. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. ‘So tell me,’ he says. ‘What do you want to know?’

             
‘Everything!’ I reply. ‘When these motherfuckers boarded’ – I nod toward the pirates – ‘you were telling me you signed the divorce papers and left Nagpur forever. So what happened after that? You told me you never met her after your divorce, then why do you still love her? I mean it’s been three decades now since that incident. And please sir, please tell me where is your mistake, because honestly, I don’t see any. And yeah’ - I scratch my eyebrows awkwardly – ‘if you loved her so much, then why did you guys not get back together?’  

T
he smile vanishes from his face instantly and gives way to a solemn expression, and very soon a morose countenance takes over. Parallel lines form on his forehead as deep as a fissure and he immerses himself in thoughts. He takes a deep breath and glances away from me. I follow his gaze and wait. Finally after what seems like an eternity, he glances back at me and clears his throat.

‘
I’ll answer your last question first,’ he says.

I nod.

‘I learnt few years after my divorce…that…um…’ He wipes a little tear forming at the edge of his eyes. ‘…that…she died.’ He looks away.

My eyes widen
. There is a prickling sensation at the back of my neck and I cock my head to the other side. I wouldn’t say I am completely shocked at the revelation, part of me had anticipated this, but if that was the case, I am more confused now.
Why does he love her then?
I swallow hard and throw an apologetic expression. He sniffles and pulls up a strong face, turning back at me.

‘
Sir, um…then why do yo-’

‘
Wait a second,’ he says, rooting through his navy blue blazer. ‘Here, this will answer your other two questions.’

He hand
s me a diary. In an instant I recognize it. It is the same old, tattered diary I saw on his desk that afternoon. I accept it and wonder how a dirty thing as this will answer any of my questions. He excuses himself for the washroom, not without the permission of the pirates, of course.

I lean back against the wall and
gingerly open his diary.

42. Shikha’s diary

August
2011, Somewhere in Somalia