The Taste of Ginger(69)

I heard a commotion behind me. People began to scream and scatter. I looked over my shoulder and saw six men in khaki-colored uniforms with matching hats on their heads. They had narrowed eyes and nightsticks in their hands. Police. My pulse quickened and my palms grew sweaty. In America, especially after September 11, I’d known to avoid interactions with the police at all costs, and that same philosophy seemed true half a world away. Someone jostled me as he ran past, and I dropped my bag on the ground, the camera tumbling out of it. Before I could reach it, someone grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me away. Biren.

“What the—”

“It’s a raid. Come on! Run!”

The police were smirking and yelling things in Hindi. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. We began scanning the crowd.

“Where’s Samarth?” Biren asked, eyes darting around us. I saw nightsticks rising before they came crashing down. Screams of pain traveled through the cool night air.

Biren began dragging me toward the shadows. “We have to go!”

“Wait! My camera.” I started to turn back toward the melee, not wanting to lose the gift I had cherished most from my parents for nearly twenty years.

It was only fifteen feet away and had somehow not yet been trampled by the men darting in every direction. Biren glanced from the camera to me. A pair of cops was heading in our direction.

He pushed me away from them. “I’ll get it,” he said.

I grabbed onto his arm. “No, I can do this. They’re not going to hurt a woman.”

I moved as quickly as my legs would allow and snapped up the camera and case by their straps. I began to run back to Biren. His eyes were wide, fear emanating from them. When I was within his reach, I took his hand and we began to run. We’d only taken a few steps when we were both jerked backward by someone grabbing our shirts. We were now face to face with a cop whose thick black mustache was unable to hide his obvious smirk.

“Let us go! We haven’t done anything wrong!” Biren demanded as he struggled to push the officer away.

My mind swirled, trying to think of how to get out of this situation.

“He’s my fiancé,” I said loudly. “Leave us alone!”

The policeman’s grip on my arm was painful, my skin smarting at the way he twisted it to pull me closer to him.

“Isn’t she a pretty NRI,” he sneered at me, licking his lips like a lion about to descend upon its prey. “Except she’s a liar. You have no engagement ring.” His steely gaze was fixed on my naked left hand. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be here with these outcasts.”

The cruel look in his eyes made my pulse stop for a second. His hand was now gripping my upper arm, his fingers grazing my breast, and I had never felt so uncomfortable or violated. Biren pushed the officer, forcing him to release his grip on my shirt.

Seeing that I was free, Biren said, “Go!”

Acting on instinct, I did as he said and bolted away before the cop could reach for me again. When I turned back, I saw Biren struggling to get away. He towered over the officer, but I saw another one heading toward him. I heard Biren say in clear, loud English, “Do you know who I am? My father is the president of the energy company. He’s best friends with the police commissioner. You had better let me go before he finds out how you’ve been harassing innocent citizens.”

Smart, I thought. He was letting the officers know that he was foreign and educated and from an important family, trying to scare them with the ramifications of not letting him go.

“Is that right?” I heard one of them scoff, and my heart skipped a beat.

I would have known how to deal with cops in America, but my legal training was useless in this country, in which I didn’t know the laws or ramifications. In America, I would have known to pull out my cell phone and start filming and streaming the video on social media. That would do us no good here.

The one holding him looked in my direction. “What is wrong with your pretty friend? Is she a deviant too? Maybe she likes girls?” He licked his lips in a manner that made my blood run cold.

Biren tried to shrug him off and caught my eye. “Get out of here!” he mouthed to me.

I didn’t want to leave him there but had no idea what to do. I scanned the crowd but didn’t see Samarth. I knew no one else whom I could turn to for help. I turned and ran toward the crowded expanse of Law Garden.

After making sure I wasn’t being followed, I exited from the place we had entered. I was now on the regular roads around the Law Garden, again seeing families with ice cream who had no idea what had just happened. Everything appeared normal even though nothing was. The smell of fireworks hung heavy in the air. Nearby some local children held sparklers, laughing as they danced around the sparks, both fearful of and exhilarated by them.





31


I called Biren’s cell phone, but it rang and rang until his voice mail picked up. I kept trying, and eventually it began going straight to voice mail. I wandered around, desperate to find Samarth and Biren. But I never did. Too scared to go back to the street where the raid had been and not knowing what else to do, I eventually hailed a ricksha and went back to Lakshmi, clutching my phone in the hopes Biren would call me soon to tell me he was okay.

By the time I got home, it was after midnight. All the lights were off, so I slunk in as quietly as I could and went upstairs to my room. I closed the door, sat on the bed, pulled my knees to my chest, and continued to try Biren’s cell again and again.