Constable Binapani tapped anxiously on his lathi, his stomach rumbled in anticipation. It was almost six and time for him to get off his shift. The fog was thick that day and he peered unblinkingly into it, searching for the familiar sight of the red and yellow hand-cart, "Nandi Ghosha" as Gulu called it with the same pride as that of a young father. It was Tuesday and Gulu Bhai would have Dahi Bara with piping hot, spicy Aloo Dum for the day's special. There were already some of the other regulars milling about the place, he decided to brave the chill and step out of his check post to beat them to it, he didn't think he could wait for another five minutes, as hungry as he was! Seeing his familiar portly figure huff about in the early morning chill some of the other regulars smiled at him, it was always good to have the police on familiar terms, they reckoned. He was oblivious to the scrutiny and just paced up and down trying to ignore the rumbles from his stomach, the last meal he had was the cold stone-like rice and watery daal his wife had cooked, something even the street dogs around his house had judiciously learnt to avoid. The small meal Gulu provided had nourished his soul for several years now, the fresh, aromatic dishes he doled out was the only reason he had always asked for the night or early morning shift, for by 7, Gulu was sold out. Considering that he had been inching towards retirement and had over the years been a more or less harmless sort, the Head Constable had been more than willing to accede to his simple request. For Constable Binapani. the Nandi Ghosha had always been worth waiting for, the only bright spot in his dreary life, about to go grayer even more post retirement. He sometimes pitied the senior officers seeing them frivolously throw away their money for the paper-like food served on equally unpalatable paper plates in those shiny, bright restaurants that dotted the road leading to the biggest universities in the city. If only they knew what they were missing, but then overcome by a strange envy he would quickly change his mind, he did not want Gulu to get rich and go away setting up another of those shiny monstrosities that served horrible, pitiful food, no Gulu had to be protected from that fate. Sighing, he stopped pacing and perched himself on the stone bench, the one that was closest to where Gulu put up his stall.
Unfortunately for Constable Binapani and the others, Gulu Bhai broke the tradition of the past 7 years and did not turn up at all. His customers were confused, they waited patiently, ignoring the other stalls for as long as they could, rudderless, some eventually turned disloyal and sheepishly bought breakfast from a rival and went their way. Others stood about, at first, talking about everything except what was on their minds the most, Gulu Bhai's absence. Eventually someone casually remarked about the new Food Commissioner's vow to make the city a safe haven for all foodies - he had recently vowed on TV to end all instances of food poisoning, diarrhea and the type, caused by, they stressed, unlicensed food vendors. He had started a campaign - My City the Cleanest. All people gathered there turned towards Constable Binapani, as though he was the Food Commissioner, afterall, he was the only one there in a uniform. Reddening to his neck, he immediately and vociferously disowned the Food Commissioner, letting out a string of choicest abuses that cast aspersions on the Food Commissioner's very birth and parentage.
Hungrier than he had ever been before and reddened by the exertion of proving to the crowd that he had nothing to do with Gulu or the Food Commissioner he went back into the Police Station. His shift had gotten over and the morning staff were trickling in. He peeked into the holding cell, the boy still lay crumpled up and immobile as they had left him, one of his arms stretched out underneath him, obviously broken. He would have to be woken up and made to clean up on his urine and faeces that lay all over the floor, mixed with the blood, the stench nauseated him and he retched near the door. Well, the urchin would have to clean that too for it was his horrible odour that had caused him to throw up. Remembering the night's episode he now realised that he should not have exerted himself so much, he should have allowed the younger ones to beat up that boy. He couldn't remember why the urchin was in the lock-up, he had simply been the entertainment of the night - the younger constables had been poking and prodding the boy all day for the urchin had the pride of education stamped on his dark, oily face - these ones, with a smattering of education quickly learnt to throw off their shackles, raising their voices, standing up straight - this boy had refused to squat on the floor and had to be taught a lesson. If not them, the world would have taught him the lesson, in a much harsher way, mused Binapani in a wave of sympathy for the unmoving pile of flesh and bones.
About three month later, almost the last week of his service, Binapani stepped out for a breath of air, winter had passed quickly that year, and with a non-existent spring, Summer had gleefully started early. The early morning reddish hue bathed the hedge in its dewy splendour, the birds had started to flit, their morning calls quickly rising in volume as they began to welcome the beautiful new day. Binapani began to feel a strange throbbing in his heart, fondness for his work, this place that had sustained him for forty years, that had stood by him through thick and thin. When that despicable urchin had died, everyone in the Police Station had supported him, they had vouched for him so strongly that the urchin's death had been deemed a suicide and the case had been sealed and closed. The Head Constable had even recommended him for an increase in salary, for maintaining peace and harmony in the locality, this would increase his pension, overcome with gratitude that his team had ensured his record would not get tarnished by that incident, he began to weep. The two other younger Constables who had been present that day and had been transferred out as a precaution, came walking by and hugged him, consoling him, teasing him for being emotional, they had all bonded that day, a bond formed over murder being stronger than even that of blood. The three of them were getting a Farewell party that day. They had all been asked to come by at noon for the ceremony and lunch.
Exiting the gate, Binapani looked fondly at the spot where Gulu would be seen, no one had known what had happened to him and like others, Binapani had woefully switched to having his breakfast from another vendor, but those who had eaten from Gulu, could never be satiated with anyone else. Sighing he scanned the horizon again as though hoping to see the familiar red and yellow cart trudging up the slope, he laughed at his imbecility, so bad had been his craving that he imagined he saw the cart. But the sight could not have been imagined, it was the Nandi Ghosha, the flag fluttering in the breeze was as true as the drool forming in his mouth. He turned around, stuttering, his heart beat increasing, half-breathing half choking, he called out to the two others, today, he would show them what true Dahi Bara and Aloo Dum tastes like. He could still teach them a thing or two he thought, his chest bursting with pride, joy and laughter, all at once. Gulu came up and perched his stand, setting it up would usually take him twenty minutes for he followed a ritual of sweeping the area around his stall, sprinkling it with holy water and doing an elaborate prayer ritual before starting business. Binapani decided he would not wait, and gesturing to his two proteges, called them over. Gulu had never been one to talk much, however today he was been quieter, it could have been for he was accompanied by his wife, who had done so only a few times in the seven years that he had known Gulu. Had he lost weight and grown older all of a sudden. thought Binapani, and addressed Gulu "Not to be seen, eh! Did you go to jail?" and the three policemen roared in laughter at the bad joke. Gulu's eyes seemed glazed but he showed his crooked teeth dutifully in a forced smile, Binapani thought he must be high on Ganja and snickered at the two proteges, excited at the upcoming farewell, the three could find nothing to bring down their bonhomie.
"Two plates each for the three of us" ordered Binapani, waving away protests from the two others, "my treat.... other than welding my lathi to break bones, I know a thing or two about good food.... and you'd better learn how to recognise true Odia test" he said officiously causing another cacophony of laughter that even startled the birds into silence for a moment. Gulu stood immobile for a moment, his wife prodded him and he nodded after a while. Disconcerted a bit by this strangely turned out Gulu, Binapani hoped the food would not let him down, if so, Gulu would have it he thought menacingly stroking his lathi, emboldened by the fact that there were no other food carts there yet, Gulu had been really early. Realising Gulu was not up for conversation the three began to talk while Gulu heated up the stove and started chopping onions. "Don't go stingy on those... has to be your best or else..." Binapani shouted sternly at Gulu, causing him to chop with an increased speed, causing the two others to laugh again. Binapani was on a roll, the last week was turning out to be quite something after all. He would not fade away, people would remember him, not just as a fly on the wall but someone who had the courage of a lion. They started talking about the urchin and arguing about who had dealt the fatal blow when Binapani felt the presence of Gulu at his side. He stood there, his glazed eyes fixed on the horizon, a steaming hot plate in his hand. The aroma of freshly chopped onions, chillies and coriander caused Binapani's stomach to rumble loudly, ignoring the ganja addict he snatched the plate out of Gulu's hand, handing it out to one of the two constables. Gulu went back, shuffling his feet, "He has had a strong dose today..." Binapani winked at them, "but let's just enjoy this for now". The next time Gulu was back with two plates balanced in each hand, he seemed more energetic and alert. He even came back offering to top up with more chips and 'mixture', his secret sauce. They each wolfed down the two plates and ordered a third, Gulu's Dahi Bara was still the one to die for!
Sad to leave Gulu's side, Binapani and the others left , without paying of course, Binapani had to teach them how to get free food out of the vendors. Their stomach's were full and their mind happy. Heading out Binapani noticed Gulu packing up, "Leaving so early, Gulu?" he asked uneasily, something had seemed off but he could not put his finger on it. "No Sahib, I will be back tomorrow, I had not got a lot today" "Okay, you better be here Gulu" saying so Binapani whizzed off on his motorcycle.
The Farewell ceremony at the Police Station would turn out to be a memorable one, for years to come, everyone would talk about it in hushed tones. The guests of honour, Constable Binapani, Sub-Constable Nakul and Sub-Constable Prahlad were to be felicitated but did not show up for the ceremony. The three had gone home to freshen up and come back to the Police station but neither could make it, while Constables Nakul and Prahlad who stayed in the Guest House were both found dead, frothing from the mouth, Constable Binapani had collapsed on the Highway, apparently he had a major heart-attack and was crushed under a speeding cement truck. The deaths of Nakul and Prahlad had led to a major crackdown on street vendors around the Police Station but nothing conclusive could be found, none of the street vendors there sold Dahi Bara and Aloo Dum, the food that was last consumed by them, as found in the autopsy. Eventually the food stalls were allowed to re-open, but judiciously avoided by the Police, who had learnt to have their meals provided for free from the bigger restaurants. The vendor who got all of Gulu Bhai's clients was always grateful that Gulu Bhai had left for his paternal village after the death of his only son. The boy had been picked up by the Night Patrol team for loitering on the street with a friend past midnight and had then committed suicide in this very police station.
