"ADITHI DEVO BHAVA"

Early 1980's.
Mumbai - Nariman Point.
Employees rushed out of their offices at sharp 5PM, after a hectic day. I too left the office at 5PM along with my colleagues, waited for the lift in the 13th floor and went down to the ground floor within seconds. I walked out of Jolly Maker Bhavan 2, lit a cigarette puffed it smoke blew out of my mouth and nostrils while walking down the pavement.
Roads and pavements already crowded with employees rushing to their destination points, to catch locals, buses and taxis.
Not much in a hurry and not that slow, in uniform speed, I too walked down the streets and pavements to my destination point - the Church Gate railway station. The gentle evening winds blowing from the vast Arabian ocean nearby, waved my pants, shirts and long hair flow backwards. Enjoying the winds I moved ahead.
After covering a straight distance, I turned to the right, bought two or three evening editions of newspapers from a newspaper vendor to flip through after I reach my abode at Matunga road.
Vehicles, double-decker buses, taxis, lorries, hooting sirens rushed along sky-high building lining both sides.
In front of Bhaktavar building an unusual, appalling sight caught my attention. A foreign lady tourist, young and pretty she was, in jeans and tops being dragged down the street by a middle-aged blackish fellow, stout he was, in white shirt and brown pants, his thick moustache too I took note of forcibly dragging her. She was imploring him, beseeching him, to let her go scot-free - her dazed looks and pleas heart-rending but he was in no mood to let her go his steely grip it was that strong and his laughter sadistic. A sadistic pleasure he must have been deriving. No one took notice of the sight, all in a hurry to reach their shelters and the indifference, detachment and cynicism, characteristics of a cosmopolitan city. Hence not surprising.
A hapless lady tourist from an alien land she must have been entrapped by some rackets and he must be a link in that chain so I thought. Mumbai, then and now, is a haven of rackets and underworld goons.
To my shock, I came to know, the fellow was a Keralite, he was speaking Malayalam and was heard mouthing choice epithets to the foreign lady without caring or looking anywhere and the helpless lady tourist not knowing Malayalam was imploring in English. The language barrier notwithstanding, her dazed looks, her constant appeals, on the verge of breaking down any moment, eyes already welled-up, more than sufficient to an outsider the pathetic situation she had found herself in.
'You bloody bitch, odious wench, you thought I am a fool? I'm not going to let you free. I'll fuck you right and left as long as I wish. I'm going to screw you bitch, the entire night, You don't know me, who am I?' - while going on with his epithets, all in his mother-tongue, he was laughing like a demon. I felt ashamed of being a Keralite.
I watched the entire sight in helplessness. A youth in his early twenties, not even in my mid 20's, my indignation knew no limits. Impotent rage is the apt word.
'My brother why can't you let that helpless lady free. You know, she is from an alien country with nobody here to take care of her, please have kindness towards her'.- I was speaking in my mother-tongue.
His expression changed for the worse, his sadistic laughter gone, turned his ire towards me. Being a Keralite like I thought it fit to make a humble plea to him.
'Who are you to intervene in this'? mind your own business, you idiot. Get lost'- he roared.
Not a human being he was. A monster- I felt.
'You bloody bastard. Don't you have a sister at home?'- in anger I spat in his direction and walked away.
In the meanwhile he was continuing to drag her down the streets.
No law-enforcers in sight. No moral policing. Morals, ethics and values all on leave. Rulers busy filling their coffers idling away time in their cosy seats in the air-conditioned cabins.
I walked away gritting my teeth to Church Gate station, my destination point. From there I had to catch a local to Matunga road.
Mind you, the incident was in the early eighties. Almost three decades gone. Imagine the vast changes the city has undergone. Population multiplying day by day. Terrorism, communalism, regional chauvinism, all ruling the roost. Law and order at its worst. People living in constant fear. Their sleeps vitiated by nightmares. Integrity, moral values, ethics and principles - stories of a bygone era.