Page 91 - FATE & DESTINY
P. 91

FATE & DESTINY

               I said, “Please give him more, Gopal.”
               Gopal held out another twenty rupees note. “Here!”
               The gatekeeper snatched it and opened the gate.
               “Who is that man?” I asked, glancing back. “He has a gun.”
               “A local goon,” he replied.
               “What?”
               “Even some sand loaders are goons.”
               “A what?” Adrenaline pulsed through me. “What’re you saying? Why did you bring me here? “
               He chuckled.
               Why is he at the gate?”
               “Undercover,” he said. “Everybody knows.”
               “Really?” I said in a tensed-tone voice.
               Gopal guffawed. “Don’t worry, sir. Nothing would happen.”
               “Are you serious?” I blurted. “He has a gun. Can’t you see it?”
               “So what? I am not afraid of his gun.”
               “What the hell are you talking about?”
               “Forget it.”
               We hit the main road again. After about half an hour, Gopal pulled over the truck in front of a shanty
            restaurant on the roadside.
               “Let’s have dinner, sir,” he said, jumping down. “Come.”
               I wobbled after him and glanced around. “What do we get here?”
               “What do you want to have?” he said, trying to balance on his feet.
               “Tarka roti.”
               “Me, too.” He beckoned to the waiter. “Do plate tarka roti…aur do pack rum.”
               “What? You are already drunk as a skunk.”
               He gulped it in a draught and said, “Let’s go, sir.”
               “But your roti?”
               “I am full.”
               “Gopal?” said a man from behind.
               Gopal turned back. “Suresh? Have you loaded your truck?”
               “No,” said the man. “My truck broke down.”
               “Oh, really?” said Gopal. “What’re you gonna do now?”
               “You should help me,” said Suresh. “Let’s go to the Barpeta workshop.”
               “It’s already night,” I said. “You can go tomorrow.”
               “We’ll return tomorrow,” said Gopal. “Let’s go back to Nganglam.”
               Suresh smelled of alcohol too. “Um, fine. Let’s go to Nganglam.”
               Gopal sped the truck. My hair bristled as the vehicles darted from the opposite direction.
               “Gopal, slow down!” I blurted.
               “Don’t worry, sir,” he said. “I am very self-controlled.” He released the steering. “See?”
               The truck wobbled.
               “Gopal, don’t!”
               “Speed up, Gopal,” said Suresh. “Faster, hit it. Hit that car!”
               I flinched back to my seat and said, “Hey you! What do you mean? Kill us?”
               Gopal guffawed as he peeked through the windshield.
               As lorry trucks darted deeper from the opposite direction, Suresh pointed at it. “Hit it, Gopal!”
               I leaned back and closed my eyes. “God, this is not happening.”
               Suresh rose from his seat. “Move away, I will drive.”
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