Funthusia

“Why am I here?” I said, the movement of my lips had sent a shock of pain to my head…

“Hmm…I think I should be the one asking questions. How much do you earn per year?”

“16 lakhs p.a. with taxes”

“You know that in a country like India, you can feed around 100 families for a month with that money.”

“So…”

“How many do you feed.”

“Ur…eh…One” I said feeling a bit guilty.

“Do you listen him brothers. He feeds just one family when he can feed many. Don’t you agree that he has to pay for what he has done…He has to…Mr. Devang, you will pay a check of Rs.Fifty One Lax in favour of Gaffer Dresses.”

“What…51 Lakhs??? I can’t afford that much…”

“Take loans…Beg, Borrow, Steal, Just pay up, else you die.”

The next thing I knew was signing a cheque of 51 lakhs.

***

The next time I reached the undisclosed part of Gaffer Dresses, my wounds were somewhat healed. At least the bedsheets on which I slept were not getting stained with blood anymore. The leader of the pack was called Masud Gaffer.

“So you brought the cheque.” He said

“Uh…Yes”

“Hmmm…Good.”

“What will you do to me now?”

“Kill you ofcourse.”

“But why?”

“Because you’ve exploited us enough…Couldn’t you pay a fraction of your earning to feed a family.”

“But we pay to the charity and that in turn feeds many .”

“I ain’t taking any of that…Charity guys are bloody motherfuckers. They earn money in our name. I am going to kill them someday too.”

Silence surrounded us for a while.

“ Where does this money go…The money I paid just now.”

“What this money…It goes to the homeless…starved families.”