text: ‘“Elei, little pubic hair, come up to me now and we’ll see,” Bhai said as he walked up to the man. Kundan wasn’t afraid either. He got up instantly and came at Bhai with a knife in his hand. Clutching it with his hand, Bhai kicked Fatso’s legs off the ground so that he fell down on his back. Bhai drew a revolver from his trouser pocket and pointed it at the man’s chest.’
  ‘Bhai’s hand was cleaved in two and his thumb was hanging loose. He gave me his handkerchief and asked me to tie it tight. The rowdy was brought to the station in our vehicle and laid on the veranda.’
  ‘They suspended Bhai, harassed him through an inquiry by the Sub-Collector. I told them frankly what had happened. The doctor was very helpful. The inquiry concluded that with no other option to save himself, Bhai had shot the man in self-defence.’
  ‘The whole affair took a year to come to a conclusion. His family faced unspeakable hardships during that period. His wife is a patient woman. She is the type who could endure any amount of suffering and still carry on. Their two girls were forced to drop out of school because it was not safe for them. All the people who had hovered around him kept away, fearing trouble. I would look him up every now and then. In spite of so many difficulties, the man never wilted. He overcame all his troubles and returned to the police station again, majestic as a lion. It left everyone speechless.’
  ‘He was a jackass. What could he do? For him, if one kundan was killed, he could find another. He also tried everything he could to get even with Bhai, but nothing worked. Within two years, he had died of a heart attack. After he was gone, the hotel too was shut down.’
  They had turned into the street on the north side. As they neared Karimbhai’s house, Aettiah felt his heart grow heavy. Bhai could have lived a few more years. The girls could have been married off by then. Either way, Bhai would’ve had to pass his days confined to the bed.
  ‘Aathi, if they say that only a male can light the funeral pyre, take off your shirt and start doing the rites. I’ll take care of the rest.’
  ‘The man was born and raised elsewhere and spent his working life here. Now he has become a rotten jackfruit.’