The man was looking into the mirror and could not recognise the face.
Who is this?
He wanted to run out of the room and ask someone who is the man in the mirror? Having got up in the morning, as usual, he had a glass of warm water, kept the garbage bags, picked up the milk bottle and the papers, kept the kettle for tea and then went into the bathroom to brush. He never looked up till he finished brushing and washing his mouth and face. It was only when he was wiping the face with a towel he realised that he was looking at a stranger. His immediate reaction was to shout and run. He threw the napkin down as if scared the man with an unknown face will jump out of the mirror.
Was he dreaming? Wondering he pinched himself and immediately he felt the pricking pain on his skin. He rushed out of the bathroom and saw his house as if he was seeing it for the first time. How did he get the milk and paper and open the door without a hitch? He realised that all those actions were his subconscious memory. His conscious mind had no recollection of himself, his house or for that matter his world.
Where am I and who am I, he asked himself? He had no answers. The first thing he checked his mobile, which was the latest I phone- X. he checked his messages, he didn’t recognise any of the contacts or the messages. Nothing made any sense, neither the names nor the photos. There were a large number of pictures of the man he saw in the mirror, but he had no recollections of either him or anyone else in the photos. He decided to give a call to the most dialed number.
Nitin Gadkari
“Hello… (pause), Rakesh is that you? He heard the voice on the other side, call the name. Then there was some hesitation, “Good morning, what have you decided Rakesh?” The man on the other side of the phone asked?
That’s my name, that was a start. Rakesh what? He had no clue.
The person at the other end of the phone was waiting for a response. “No not as yet, I have not decided, I am wondering if you could once again put on the table what the deal is?” said the man now named Rakesh. The man at the other end seemed puzzled and after an awkward silence, “Rakesh there is no deal, remember I asked you on Friday if you would be coming home this evening for Maria’s birthday party? You were unsure, but you were to confirm either way, so I thought you called to let me know. No issues if you can’t come, we will understand”, he completed the unfinished sentence. “No, I will come, can you text the address please”, interjected the man with a hint of desperation.
“Rakesh you been to my house so many times, you can come here blindfolded, why do you need the address?” Said the man on the phone and cut the call.
‘Rakesh’ had no recollection of the name neither was he comfortable with it. Most of the times, the mind signals from the subconscious. It’s like a hard disc memory which even when deleted leaves an imprint which can be retrieved through electronics means. Similarly, the mind acts as a hard disc and remembers something of the subconscious. Why has his memory gone? He was hoping to get a clue, he looked into his phone and realised it was a Sunday. To his good fortune, he had at least 24 hours to figure out who he was? Something told him to stop thinking and let his subconscious dictate his actions.
He sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes. He tried to blank his mind, and he remembered the verses from morning prayer the Salat- e – Fajr or the Fajr namaz; Allah o Akbar, Bismillah Al Rahman Al Rahim, Subhana Rabbiyal al-Adheem (All praises to Allah, the great)
…
Rakesh was convinced it was not his real name. After the realisation that the Quran verses came to him naturally, he had checked his member in the bathroom, and the proof was there for him to see. He had undergone circumcision. It only deepened the mystery.
That evening he bathed, changed, and called for an Uber. He had put the destination as Bandra Linking road, Lane 6, House number 245. It was the most favorite destination available in the Uber directory of his phone. Yet he had no idea who was residing there. ‘Maria; did he not mention it was her birthday’. Rakesh picked a bunch of roses, a card and bottle of fine wine from the Grover vineyard collection. It was like going a blind date. He was thinking to himself what was his age, he guessed he must be between 35 to 40 years, more towards the 35. His face, when he saw in the mirror in the morning, was quite a good-looking. He guessed with a look like that he would have some female suitors at the party. His wallet was stacked with the best credit cards, and crisp 2000 rupees notes ten of them. Did he drink? He had no idea, but being a Muslim, would he be drinking, most probably no? Yet something told him he was accustomed to drinks. We will see, he decided to play it by ear.
He reached his destination around 9 pm, which was quite early by Bombay standards. He looked around and found the house no 245. He realised it was a sprawling bungalow with many cars parked outside. The sentry at the gate saluted him and let him go without asking any questions. ‘Looks like I am a well-known face’ he thought to himself. He saw a middle-aged man with a French beard rushing towards him in great excitement and without warning; marrowed a jhappi (hugged him, an Indian way of greetings friends). “Ah Rakesh, finally you have made it, Maria would be so glad to see you”, he excitedly announced to him. “Come I will first take you for cake cutting, Maria is waiting for. I will then introduce you to some special people who have come tonight to meet you,” the bearded man uttered.
The man named Rakesh was intrigued, he was wondering how come he is so cool, a man in his situation should be panicking, but he seemed relaxed about his predicament. It almost seemed as if he was trained for this kind of job. How and When? He had no idea. He decided to let his instincts dictate his actions.
His host whose name he hadn’t the faintest of the clue, lead him to a hall in the garden which had a glass wall and was very well lit and decorated. In the centre was a table with a big multi-layered cake and by its side was a gorgeous looking woman in black American chiffon gown. Rakesh could see she was the cynosure of all eyes, but she had her eyes on him. She came and gave him an passionate hug and said in his ears, “Thank you luv for coming, you did finally heed to my request, you have made my birthday”.
Rakesh was wondering what is his magic that the best-looking woman in the party is whispering love notes to him. He gave her the flowers and the wine bottle. “Oh my god, my favourite pink roses, and you remembered, so sweet”, she cooed. Rakesh was pink with embarrassment with all the attention he was getting as if he was a rock star. Maria cut the cake and cut two pieces and announced, “for two of my most favourite people: Kevin and Rakesh”. There was thunderous applause, and she invited them both in the centre and put a piece of cake in their mouths. Kevin was delighted and announced let’s have a round of champagne. Within a minute, boys and girls with trays full of stemmed champagne glasses with pink champagne were all over the place. Kevin gave one to Maria and one to Rakesh and took one for himself. He raised the glass to toast, “to the most beautiful woman I know, my wife: Maria, wishing you a very happy birthday and many many more happy ones to come. “Cheers,” Everybody raised their glasses and drank a toast to the birthday girl, and so did Rakesh.
He didn’t like the taste of the drink, which instinctively told him that he was at best a social drinker. Kevin took him aside and whispered in his ear, “The chief of Mumbai Police is here, I want you to meet him”. “Why, immediately?” asked the Rakesh. Kevin looked at him strangely waited for a few seconds and then responded, “I thought on Friday you had made your coming conditional to the Mumbai Police chief attending the birthday party? See I got him for you, and now you are refusing to meet him. Isn’t that weird?
Rakesh laughed and in a sudden change of behaviour slapped Kevin on the back, “You take everything seriously Kevin I was pulling your leg, let’s go and meet the Police chief.”
…
The party on Sunday night came as a blessing in disguise for the man called Rakesh. He found a lot about himself. He came back late at night after a great evening, where he was the toast of the party. Maria was all over him, and Kevin for some strange reason didn’t seem to mind. He realised that he was a stockbroker and dealt in millions of rupees worth of financial instruments at the stock market every day. His office was on the top floor of the Bombay Stock exchange. The reason the high and mighty were keen to meet him because it was believed he was going to announce a fund for a very few select clients. The buzz was, they would double their investments of a minimum one million dollars (equivalent to 7.5 crores INR), in less than a year. The risk was minimal as anyone who wanted to exit after a minimum period of one year, was assured principal plus eight per cent compounded interest. Rakesh had no idea how such a ridiculous scheme would ever succeed, but, he had announced it on Thursday last, after the close/ rollover of the monthly trading date for futures and options. As per one of the businessman; ‘you have sent the stock market in a tizzy by this announcement’. He also learnt that last he was seen in public was on Friday afternoon, as he had attended a luncheon party in one of the top restaurants in town as everyone was raving about it. There was no mention of Friday night, the night when most probably he lost his memory. He did not recognise a single name or face, yet everyone seemed to know him. He had got up in the morning looking at the strange man in the mirror, he hoped tomorrow might change something for him and take away the underlying fear which had knotted in his belly.
…
Rakesh woke up with an alarm and did his morning routine of picking up the milk bottle and papers and drinking water as usual without any efforts. It was when he was brushing the memories came flooding back to him. It was the same face, which had terrified him. Then he remembered the dream; he was going in a boat in a vast lake at night, and the boat is attacked by a predator from underneath, and it overturns. He is then desperately trying to save himself from the predator. What kind of dream was that? he thought to himself. Yesterday was the namaz of fajr, today a boat, who am I? He was no clearer than before. His brief foray into the unknown was interrupted by a call, from a lady. “Sir, its Meena, you have a brokers meeting scheduled in the chamber at 9.30am today. I have typed out all the relevant notes and attached the connecting documents. I will hand it over to you when you come to the office at 8.30 am. I will ask Vijay to pick you up at 8.15 from your residence”. Realising that she must be his secretary, he asked, “What car is he getting today”? Asked Rakesh not knowing how is he going to recognise Vijay or his car. “Sir, the usual BMW, black one”, she replied.
At 8.15 am sharp, Rakesh was down on the ground floor. He was wondering about his food, who cooks it, and cleaning maid? The concierge of the building announced that his car is waiting in the foyer outside. This must be the regular routine thought the man. His instincts were guiding him to do the routine he followed every day. He spotted the BMW and a smart young boy run towards him to take his briefcase. He didn’t realise he was carrying one. Good morning sir, we would reach the office by 8.25 am. Your morning briefing to office staff, as usual, is at 8.30 am in our conference room.
Rakesh was astonished at the number of people who were in the conference room. At least 30, meaning there my five times the number of working staff. He spotted a pretty young girl carrying a folder. Must be Maya, he took the folder from her and was about to go when she said Sir the dais is that side. Acting as if he was a little confused, Rakesh walked to the podium. He opened his briefing with greeting everyone, and after that, he was in full control of his speech and as if he had rehearsed and prepared a text. He didn’t understand what he was talking, but he saw tremendous enthusiasm on the faces of his staff. “Let’s get to work boys and girls”, saying this he closed the briefing.
“Another great briefing sir, said Meena after she guided the man to his office which was a floor above and had an internal lift. The office on the 29th floor was overlooking the entire city of Mumbai. It gave him an almost 200-degree view from Worli on the North, northwestern side to the Arabian sea expanse in the southerly direction. The office was glassing all around except a smaller portion towards the door. It was spacious beyond imagination. What on earth would be the rental of this place he thought? “Meena could you leave with me my entire calendar of the last month including the engagements I have attended and those I missed. I want to do an analysis for myself, directed the man to his secretary. “Yes, sir sure, no problems I will mail the same to you”. “No, I request you give me the printed copy of the mail, said Rakesh”. Meena was a little surprised but didn’t pursue the matter, his printer and my printer are one and the same, she wondered.
…
Rakesh was enlightened after going through his engagement dairy. He had carried it home to study. He had managed to pass his day with no one suspecting about his loss of memory. He was home early and found his house in a spic and span condition, he looked into the kitchen, and his dinner was ready. His lunch was catered to at the stock exchange. He was checking on his engagements on Friday evening when his phone rang. It was Kevin. “Hi buddy, how are you? We missed you at the Gateway sailing club. Remember we had decided to sail together today, you wanted to show me something near the Vashi creek”, he said on the phone. “Oh did I, I forgot completely, but don’t worry will make it up this week”, replied the Rakesh. “Oh no, this week will be too late, I am coming over to your place right now, we will have a drink and chit chat”, said Kevin and cut the call. Rakesh realised that Kevin was coming home, he got worried. It didn’t seem like a regular call, there was something in Kevin’s tone, which suggested he was provoking him into some commitment, a message; ‘I know more than what you think’.
Kevin landed within twenty minutes of the call. He was the same bubbly energetic self. “Pour me a large would you Rakesh”, he said. “Ah, why don’t you fix it yourself, till I check if there are some snacks in the kitchen”, said Rakesh. Kevin showed no hesitation, pressed a button on the wall and a rotating bar emerged from the wall as Rakesh thanked his stars. He emerged from the kitchen with a bowl full of cashew nuts and found Kevin with two glasses of neat large liquid which he presumed must be whiskey. “Cheers said Kevin and emptied half a glass in one sip. I have poured your favourite: Laphroaig”, Kevin was looking and talking to him. The man tasted the whisky, and he didn’t like the taste but did not say a word, not knowing which way to move the conversation. They sipped in silence, and no sooner Kevin finished his first drink, he turned to the man called Rakesh and said, “Mate tell me what’s happening”? “What do you mean what’s happening”, said Rakesh? “You have been lying to me the whole of last three days, you are acting strange, in fact weird, none of it that you do or say resonates with your personality and yet you are unabashed about lying. Laphroaig is one whisky that you hate as you do not like smoky flavoured whiskies and yet you did not say a word. You are not Rakesh, Who are you? Asked Kevin. Rakesh kept quiet for a while wondering how much to confess and what to hide. He was afraid there was hardly anything he knew, so the question of hiding was actually redundant. He gathered his strength and said to him, “Kevin, I am afraid I have lost my memory”. “Lost your memory, what do you mean? Like you can’t remember anything”, Kevin asked? “Yes, as in I cannot remember who am I or for that matter who are you? I do not recognise a single face here in the city”, said the Rakesh. “Oh my god, that must be miserable, navigating through an alley full of thorns blindfolded and yet remain unhurt. And since how long has this been your state”, Kevin asked? “Since day before yesterday, I think, I did not recognise my own face in the mirror, and that’s when I realised I have lost my memory. The man called Rakesh then narrated his story the way it occurred. Kevin seemed flustered. Rakesh showed utter helplessness even to guess the reason. “Can’t think of any reason”, he said. Kevin promised to help and left in a hurry, he seemed eager to make a call and didn’t realise that the Rakesh had followed him to the lift to see if he is using his phone. Kevin was so engrossed in making the call that he never suspected anybody would be watching him.
…
“But Maria he has lost his memory, he said so”, argued Kevin with his wife. “Don’t be stupid, Kevin, you know he is not Rakesh, it’s a trap, and the earlier we run away, the better it is,” said Maria. “What do you mean to run away we cannot do that, we will be hounded no matter wherever we go”, admonished Kevin. I think we should use this god-given chance and stay here and make what we had set out to achieve. One way or other it would be ours. I know that it is an extraordinary situation for us, I think we should make the best of what we have got and not behave as if something is wrong”, said Kevin.
“You do what you want for me its too spooky for me, and I am not facing him again”, said Maria.
…
Rakesh was working in the office when he saw Kevin enter his office with a suave looking gentleman, looked like a Pathan or an Arab sheikh educated in the west. “Hi, buddy, how are you?” said Kevin in an exaggerated friendly tone. “Rakesh, meet sheikh Usma Bin laden from the Saudi, he has come to India to meet you. Actually, I had introduced you to him, and based on my recommendations, he invested 20 million dollars in your company last month. He has heard about your condition, and he wants his money back. Rakesh, I understand the timing is bad, but buddy I will be in bigger trouble than you will ever know if you don’t give him his money. He has all the paperwork to prove that the money was paid into your Swiss bank account. He says he is willing to take half of the amount now and half later once you recover. The money should be transferred into a Swiss bank account”.
Rakesh looked at Kevin in the same manner he used to whenever he visited him in office as if he is back to his usual self, then within moments that look was lost and the same lifeless expression came on his face. “Sure, Kevin if you say I will return the money, no big deal”. The ease with which the Rakesh agreed to give the money back took both of them by surprise. They wanted him to fuss so that they could have a better look at his office. Kevin, I will ask my secretary and accountant to handle this transaction. Why don’t you be seated?
Kevin was on edge; his life was slipping away from his hand. He knew that both time and opportunity were running out. unexpectedly Rakesh asked him to fetch the contract from the drawer. “Sure, Kevin said, knowing well that there was no contract. He unlocked the drawer with the key given by Rakesh and feigned to look inside. As he moved around the papers, he found a file. It contained some original papers, copies of some documents. He took a detailed look and was sure these were the agreement he had signed last week. Was it a simple coincidence that he had hit upon the agreement? He thanked the Lord for having mercy on him, God has ordained that he be the king he thought to himself. “I don’t find the contract here Rakesh, maybe it is with your secretary”, said Kevin looking very innocent. “Maybe,” said Rakesh. Kevin had taken out the file and hid it behind his jacket.
Kevin was up and conveyed to Rakesh that he has to leave for another meeting, and since he has agreed to transfer the money, there is no reason for them to wait. He can do it in a day or two. we are leaving the account details with you to do the needful. “I trust you implicitly,” Kevin was heard saying, as he left the office in a hurry.
As they came out of the office, he asked the man who was impersonating as the Arab sheikh was actually his lawyer, to check the agreement if it’s the same and if it’s the valid copy. The lawyer saw it for about a minute and confirmed that he had secured the original document. Let’s straight hit the registration office there is no time to waste.
…
“Sir, we require both the partners to amend the agreement”, the officer in the Registration Office was telling Kevin. “But we don’t want to amend the agreement we want to terminate it, declare it null and void, and for that one partner is sufficient”, argued Kevin with the registration officer. “Sorry sir, we are bound by rules”, he said.
Kevin’s lawyer was telling him he will get a court order earliest on Monday as it was Friday afternoon now.
“No Monday is too late if Rakesh gets his memory back all will be lost”, said Kevin.
He continued to be belligerent with the officer. Within minutes Kevin realised he was surrounded by crime branch Police.
“Sir you are being arrested for money laundering and murder of Wazir Rasool Khan. You have right to remain silent, anything you say may be produced in a court of law”, said the Police Inspector. Kevin’s lawyer demanded an explanation, and in reply, the inspector handed him over a warrant from the judicial magistrate in the original.
…
In the joint interrogation in the Enforcement Directorate (ED) with Police, Kevin was being questioned. He had his lawyer present, and he was not replying to any question.
“Ok, we will change the tactics, we will let the police interrogate you first, and then we will hand you over to the ED,” the investigating officer informed Kevin. Kevin was sticking to the original plea that they have got the wrong guy as he has done nothing wrong.
It took a minute for the crime branch inspector to sit in front of Kevin. He seemed to be a cool calm collected customer, showed that he had handled criminals like Kevin every day. “Mr Kevin, you have been charged with money laundering and murder of Wazir Rasool Khan, do you deny it,” stated the inspector.
“Of course, I deny it, I do not even know who is wazir or whatever his name is”, said Kevin. The inspector pulled out a photograph. It was a photo taken at night hence a little dull. There were three people seen, Kevin, Maria and Rakesh. “Do you recognise the photo and recollect where and when was it taken”? “Yes, this is me, my wife and my friend Rakesh, and it was taken in a bar, the Koyala restaurant in Colaba. When I do not know as we go out quite often the three of us”, stated Kevin. “Good”, said the inspector. “What if I told you that the person you went out with on Friday night was Wazir Rasool Khan and not Rakesh”. “But no how can that he be wazir or whatever his name is, we went with Rakesh”, Kevin answered a little confused and agitated.
“You thought it was Rakesh, but in reality, it was one of our inspectors under cover, who has been keeping in a watch on you for last one year. He was made a look-alike of Rakesh, thanks to the advancement in prosthetics. We had decided to arrest you that very evening, but you sprang a surprise on us, and you murdered him in cold blood, you and your wife. A last-minute change in the plan by you on Friday cost Wazir his life. As per the plan you were to meet at the Golden Dragon bar, but you changed the plan for some reason and went to the Koyla restaurant. The venue change caused us 15 minutes delay due to traffic and travel time. You killed him within 10 minutes. What was it you were scared of Mr Kevin, Rakesh had found out about your money laundering business and he was going to expose you and cut you out of the partnership agreement? What if we tell you that Wazir was wearing a wire and we have taped the complete conversation,” accused the inspector.
The blood had drained from Kevin’s face. He now looked like a prey in front of its predator. He tried to confer with his lawyer who refused to talk since now it was a murder charge being established. The lawyer suspected police were likely to have more incriminating evidence which they would bring out step by step. He argued it’s better to get out when the going was good rather than get stuck later with a dud case. “Kevin, you have lied to me all through, I cannot help you any more as it’s a case of the murder of a police officer’, said the lawyer and left.
Kevin was left helpless, he knew his game was up.
Kevin finally spoke, “I will tell you everything about my money laundering and the murder, but please tell me when did Rakesh lose his memory?”
Rakesh never lost his memory, he was only play-acting to trap you into believing that you can get more part in his business, that’s why you got the original agreement today. We were very sure the only way to trap you was to lure you into believing that you are likely to get hold of more money and business. The detailed façade and ruse of memory loss were required because we were very sure you had secretly wired Rakesh’s house with video cameras to blackmail him if an opportunity presented itself.
We had anticipated your move, and we were present here much before you reached. Rakesh had informed us that you had taken the agreement and left for the Registering Authority’s Office. We didn’t want to be late this time.
Kevin confessed to all his crimes.
…
In the one-sided glass window behind Wazir Rasool Khan who had followed Kevin from the stock exchange to the Interrogation office. He stood in silence feeling sad for Rakesh who was helping him for the last one year. And in the end, in spite of his best efforts he could not help him; even in save his life.
