Sumer was dumb-founded. It was as if he was watching everything through a surreal haze. The two blotched sad faces-dazed, battered persecuted and tormented swam before his eyes. He stood as if rooted to the spot. The pathetic condition of the boys was too much for him. How can the police be so cruel? So barbarously brutal? So pitilessly sadistic. “The monsters!” he hissed through clenched teeth, and remembered yesterday afternoon’s tomfoolery and horseplay. How excited and cheerful the boys had been! It was as if their faces had been aglow with a festal sunshine-radiant and beaming-chirping and chattering and now this! His heart cried and howled at the screaming injustice.

Totally bewildered by what had happened and still not fully able to comprehend the hows and whys of the arrest, Sumer was finding it difficult, oh so achingly difficult, to come to terms with the reality around him. Last, as he was, in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, he had forgotten. Manoj and Kapil, the two young boys who had, like him been unjustly framed by the police. Manoj, the elder of the two, having just completed his 19^th year, and Kapil not yet out of his teens both presented a pathetic sight. They were as innocent of the crime as he was. His heart went out to the poor, wretched lost souls, who were huddled in a corner, whispering and babbling incoherently.

He looked at them, huddled, together under a filthy blanket. From where did the blanked materialize? He wondered. Now and then an uncontrollable spasm of anguish gripped their bodies, making them tremble, gasp and writhe. They reminded him of two miserable little kittens, frisky and full of spunky mischief, a few hours ago, and then, suddenly taken imprisoned by a group of sadistically mischievous boys, mauled, agonized, tortured and maltreated, and now, looking upon the entire world with suspicion and distrust.

Sumer looked at his watch. It was 5 A.M. where were the boys the entire night? Did they sleep? Did they eat? Were they tortured? A thousand and one questions hammered away at his brain. Suddenly a stifled sob came cutting into the brooding rancor of his mind.

“Sir, what is going to happen to us? We are so scared! What if we have to remain in jail for the rest of our lives?” This heart rending cry emanated from the parched lips of Kapil, the younger one.

Manoj, the elder one stifled a groan, and started consoling Kapil, Sumer was profoundly touched. He walked up to them and patted them, trying to dispel their fears.

“Don’t be such cry babies. Everything will be alright. Why will you remain in jail? What have you done to deserve such a punishment? By the way where were you the entire night?”

“In a dingy malodorous room in the far corner, and the entire night several policemen were grilling us, torturing us, slapping, kicking boxing and beating us. S.ir and pressurizing us to admit that we beat up the driver and you instigated us S..ir. Is there no justice in this world? Why is the police so brutal, Sit? Aren’t they supposed to be our protectors? Look, Sir my entire body is bruised,” and Manoj pushed up his shirt to reveal a badly bruised and lacerated back.

Sumer flinched. This was getting too much, simply too much. It was awful, so awful.

God, are you seeing? Can you hear the cries of these innocent children? Can you? Can you? Or have you become hard of hearing? Old and feeble? Doddering debilitated and effete? Or have you yielded, like the rest of us to a weary resignation? To a fatigued surrender? Succumbed to the diabolical, demonical machinations of these black-hearted fiendish, depraved and debased super-men? Don’t wince like that! Do you think I am talking gibberish once again? Flinging and hurling abuses at you? Accusing you of non-existent and imaginary ills? Perish the thought? Earlier, I merely suspected, now I firmly believe, that you have been caught in a web of your own making Tch-Tch. Poor God? Ineffectual and impotent God! Callous and cruel God! Cowardly and spineless, God! A pathetic invalid, mentally emasculated God! How can you help us? You who yourself need help….! Help against those who are trying to impersonate you trying to browbeat, bamboozle and bull-doze you into submission “Ha”. My sympathies are with you. Go, Go and sleep over our troubles or do whatever Gods do at 5 O’clock in the morning, and leave us alone, Go Vanish, Disappear, I forgive you, for you know not what you do.

“Sir, sir, sir what are you muttering? What are you? Muttering sir? Sir, sir?” This was a bemused Manoj shaking Sumer ou of his trance. An extremely embarrassed Sumer jerked himself free from his contemplation, and with the by now, perspiration soaked handkerchief tried to wipe away the last vestiges of morose thoughtfulness from his face. To hide his mortification, he took out the last remaining cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and started exhaling one sad, misshapen crooked smoke-ring after another.

“Sir, hadn’t you given up smoking?” Asked a concerned Manoj.

“Oh, yes, I had, but under this sorry state of affairs, it can’t be helped. One has to while away the time and what better way than a cheap little cigarette? Moreover, it also helps in releasing some of my pent-up anger. It’s a blessing in many ways, y’know. By the way, this is my last remaining cigarette, sad, isn’t it?” And with that he blew out another sad, bizarre smoke ring.

“Suddenly another constable lumbered into the room, pock-marked face, bulbous nose, bushy brows, and all. Where was the S.H.O.? Sumer wondered the S.H.O. with his oily smile and effusive insincerity? He seemed to have totally vanished into thin air. Having carried out his duty, to the best of his ability, he must be sleeping the sleep of the content the contentment of a job well-done of a unjust order, unjustly executed!” Sumer reflected. But on what mission, has Bushy Brows come? Perhaps to execute some further unjust orders. and casting surreptitious looks around. “If you want to save your skin you will have to part with some money. That’s what Dh”

Bushy Brows walked purposely toward Sumer, what purpose, Sumer could not for the life of him imagine.

“Prof. Sahib, now that you are trapped, there is only one way out – Dhan Haani.” This was Bushy Brows, standing in front of them, with a furtive uneasy expression in his small ferret like eyes.

“Dhan Haani?” W..h..a..ts that?

“Dhan Haani, he reiterated, shifting the wad of betel leaf from one corner of his mouth to another, and chomping on it with a malevolent expression “Don’t you know what that means.” He asked dropping his voice

“So! They are asking me for a bribe.” The cheek! How dare they? These rapacious greedy, gluttonous money-guzzlers.” How dare they! These slimy, crawling ants of humanity!” Sumer was seething with righteous indignation but..............