The Bulldozer - concluding part

“Wait for my signal,” Gopan instructed the sergeant and approached the chief. He met the old man’s gaze, and said commandingly, “The machine will start now. Vacate immediately.”

Village boss looked at him with dignity. He seemed calm and self-assured. “This is our home,” he said. “We are staying.”

“Do you see those men in uniform?” Gopan asked.

“Yes. Why did you bring them? Are you afraid?”

Gopan ignored the slight and said, “They have orders to throw you out.”

The headman silently turned to the villagers and made a sign. In a minute people vanished into their huts. All except one young woman. She stood alone in the morning sun.

Element of surprise was gone. The sergeant wouldn’t like that, Gopan thought.

Suddenly the young man with the chief spoke. “Don’t think we are fools,” he said abrasively. “We know that you want to sacrifice my wife and baby to strengthen your buildings. Kill me instead. But of course, blood of a first time pregnant girl is more effective for your purpose.”

Gopan shook his head. “We don’t require,” he said gently, “any sacrificial blood to stabilize our structures. No body makes such offerings. It’s an old myth without any basis.” After a pause he added, “Get your wife inside the van. We will take her to the hospital.”

The husband laughed, brittle, high pitched. “To all those strangers?” he asked heatedly. “That would make killing easier. And put us to shame as well. In front of all those men and women!” He laughed again.

The sergeant moved near the group quietly.

Exasperated, Gopan continued, aware that he was exceeding his authority, “I’ll arrange temporary accommodation for all of you in an empty storage shed. Even free food.”

“What?” the young villager shouted. “And have my son born in public? Without the presence of our gods and the spirits of ancestors they will surely die, exposed.” He cursed profanely and spat.

The sergeant tugged at Gopan’s sleeve. They walked back together to the bulldozer. The engineer leaned against the machine. “What do we do now?” he asked. “Call it off?”

“That’s for you to decide, Mr. Nair,” the security man replied. “The job has to be done either today, or tomorrow. We could change tactics and proceed.”

Gopan looked at him questioningly.

“Handle chief as before,” sergeant explained. “First two huts have only one male each. A combined total of seven including children. Six of my men will form two teams. Twelve will cordon off the huts in question. Squads dash in, do the flushing, and the dozer moves.”

Gopan had to make a decision. The determination and confidence he had felt when he woke up that morning were fast eroding.

“Others,” sergeant was saying, “are inside their huts with doors closed. Reaction time will be long. Concentrate on first two huts.”

Gopan noticed the headman giving another signal. As he and the sergeant watched, the woman started moving. She was full with swelling of new life within her and walked unsteadily. She stopped at the first hut and leaned against its sidewall, facing the bulldozer.

Gopan was perplexed. “What do we have now?” he asked. “Sacrificial lamb? Or bluff?”

“Could be either,” sergeant replied.

“What do you mean?”

“They know they can’t win. Therefore they want a human sacrifice in atonement for abandoning their ancestors or whatever. In fact, they had special rituals earlier this morning. That’s why those flowers around the idols.”

In the distance, Gopan could see the steel plant rising over the shrubs and trees. When completed, it would be one of the most modern. “Rubbish,” he said. “Then why don’t they attack us?”

“Because many of them could get hurt. Women are expendable, not men. One offering and they can leave their gods and forefathers satisfied and go away with peace.”

Gopan was thoughtful.

“We had,” the sergeant continued, “reported this possibility to DE sometime back.”

In that case I am the sacrificial lamb, Gopan thought.

“It’s also possible,” the sergeant went on, “that our intelligence is wrong. As you said, it could be a gamble. But this situation is better for us. I’ll remove her as well to the van. Other details remain unchanged.”

Gopan wanted time to think. “Very well,” he said. “Brief your men.”

Sergeant quickly moved to the guards and started explaining, drawing diagrams on sand with a stick. The chief, the young man and the woman were observing with rapt attention. There was apprehension on their faces.

Gopan knew that the sergeant’s new plan was good, like the earlier ones. But somebody could get injured. And the old man might have more tricks up his sleeve.

The sergeant was back.

“It’s a bluff,” Gopan said. “I’m going to call it.”

“Well, you’re in charge,” the security man’s response was lukewarm. As an afterthought he added, “But I don’t feel comfortable about that husband guy.”

Ignoring him, Gopan turned to the woman. “Get out of there fast,” he shouted, “or you will kill yourself and your baby. No body will bother much about an accident at construction.”

The woman hesitated and looked towards her husband.

Gopan addressed the driver loud enough for everyone to hear. “Get going. Stop only if I tell you to, no matter what happens.”

The Sikh grinned. Motor was started and the machine came to life. Gopan followed on a side, keeping the woman in sight. The sergeant also went along.

When the bulldozer had gone forward ten feet, inmates of the first hut rushed out.

The gap was closing.

“Don’t cut it too fine,” the sergeant whispered to Gopan.

Time ticked away. The bulldozer was only about ten feet from the woman. The driver was not grinning any more.

“Stop it,” the security man hissed.

Gopan realized with a sickening feeling that the woman was in shock. She could not have moved even if she wanted to. He was about to call it off when someone, perhaps a guard yelled, “Watch out.”

For a moment there was confusion. Gopan heard running footsteps and saw the Sikh driver jolt violently. A thick streak of blood appeared below his right eye. The man pitched forward covering his face with both hands. A sharp, fist-sized stone bounced off to the sand.

Bulldozer seemed to move faster.

Gopan rushed to the machine. He was vaguely aware of the sergeant sprinting past him to the woman. He jumped on to the bulldozer. It was difficult to reach in over the slumped driver. Finally he managed to, and cut off the engine. The vehicle came to a jerking halt with a light thud.

People were shouting. Villagers started streaming out of their huts. Security men immediately cordoned off the area near the bulldozer.

Gopan slid back to the ground in a daze. He walked away, aimless and disoriented. After a few steps he felt dizzy and sat down on the sand. Some guards quickly moved near him to provide close proximity cover. He managed to wrap his hands around the knees and rested his face on them.

There were many noises in the air – shouting, wailing, people talking loudly. They seemed to come from a great distance. Did he hear the word ‘sacrifice’? Gopan was not sure. He thought there was the sound of a vehicle being driven away.

Later, from the haziness, the sergeant’s voice came in clearly, “This man will take you to the Club House. Get a room. Have some sedatives sent over from the hospital and try to rest. I’ll wind up here and meet you.”

Helping Gopan to the Jeep, the security man added, “Couple of sentries will be posted outside your room. That’s the procedure.”

There was no reaction from the engineer.

Late at night, while driving Gopan home after formalities were completed, the sergeant said, “The driver should be hopefully all right. A nasty cut and a broken nose. Lucky he didn’t lose an eye.”

Gopan nodded.

“The villagers,” The security man went on, “moved to Shed 7. GM has sanctioned free rations for them. They’ll be gone in a couple of days.”

Servant maid opened the door for Gopan when he reached home. She looked terrified.

Gopan went straight to the bedroom and switched on the light. Malini was lying awake, staring at the ceiling. He sat on his side of the bed and started removing his field shoes.

Minutes passed. The silence was becoming unbearable.

“It was an accident,” Gopan said all of a sudden. That was the conclusion local police had reached at the inquest. There were no charges against anyone.

“It was an accident,” Gopan repeated, louder.

Malini took a long time to respond. When she finally did, it was as though she was talking to herself. “Nobody,” she said, “will bother much about an accident at construction,”

Gopan knew that she had not repeated his statement sarcastically or with malice. He lay down heavily without bothering to change clothes.

Again, there was Malini’s voice, far away and sad, yet with a tenderness that hurt. “Sorry, I can’t help it. Can’t forget as much as I try. Way that man was crying against her body at the hospital. If only they could have saved the baby.”

Her voice cracked. Gopan knew that her eyes were full. She was like that. Too soft. Too delicate. That man killed them, he wanted to say. But it would not have helped.

Malini turned on her side, facing the wall.

It had been like that ever since – two and a half years!

Standing near the jeep waiting for Malini, Gopan sighed. The steel plant looked solid, massive. They did complete the job on schedule. He was a DE now.

Gopan checked his watch. If Malini did not hurry, they would be late for the flight. There were other plants to build and more schedules to keep. ‘The Bulldozer’ had to carry on.

He took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. As he exhaled, there was a touch on his arm. It was so gentle, so light that it could have been his imagination. He was afraid though to turn around and make sure. He kept staring ahead, wanting that moment and the emerging hope to linger.

“Gopan, the plant looks magnificent,” Malini’s childlike voice filled his ears.

Gopan Nair did not reply. He was thinking how fascinating, like a string of diamonds, distant lights appear when one saw them through misty eyes.

Ends.

The Bulldozer.

Gopan Nair came out from the house into the pre-dawn chill carrying a blue fibre suitcase. He placed it carefully at the back of the Jeep and took a deep breath. That almost completes it, he said to himself with a sense of relief. The heavy luggage had been dispatched by truck the day before. Only Malini’s leather travel bag remained. That would have to wait till she finished changing.

For a moment Gopan wished that he could go in and chat with his wife while she dressed. He used to do that three years back, during the first few months of their marriage. It was different those days.

Gopan walked to the front of the Jeep where the young driver sat wrapped in a blanket. The man gave him a quick glance and looked away.

Gopan moved off with a faint shrug. That was how they treated him. Never friendly. It would be same at the new place too, he was sure. His nickname ‘The Bulldozer’ would have reached there already. He did not care about that, did not bother with those who said things behind his back. They were not aware of the truth. But Malini was different. She should have understood.

He turned around and looked at the steel plant some distance away, silhouetted against the gentle glow in the eastern sky. It was an awe-inspiring sight. The gigantic structure towered over houses of the township around it, glowing with thousands of lights. Half a dozen chimneys emitted gases of different hues that curled up softly in the air, making the picture alive. ‘The Site’, Gopan thought proudly.

He had come there when ‘The Site’ was a large, almost barren tract of land in central India. There was one isolated village on it. Gopan could remember clearly the morning he stepped down at the improvised railway station. There were other engineers like him as well, and several workmen from different parts of the country. Most of them were young.

They had formed themselves into a dedicated team, toiling to meet deadlines, sometimes working up to sixteen hours a day. Life was tough initially, living in tents and eating from a makeshift canteen. But ‘The Site’ transformed rapidly. Roads were laid, water and power supply systems were established and a hospital, clubhouse and canteen were completed with record speed. In one year’s time the steel plant was taking shape, changing the skyline each day as construction progressed. Township also started to grow. Tents gave way to little houses of uniform pattern.

Gopan Nair married towards the end of his second year there. Malini had been his junior in school. She was a quiet, kind - hearted girl, rather thin with long curly hair and dark eyes. He took her with him to ‘The Site’ two weeks after the wedding. Leave was scarce because work had to proceed according to schedule. All that the big bosses were concerned about was to complete the project within the stipulated time.

It was in trying to keep to the time frame that Gopan ran into problem. He had sensed trouble even as he stopped his Jeep in a cloud of dust at the village where work on a new sector of township was to commence.

From his vehicle Gopan saw the elderly villager standing a few feet ahead of the path that lay between two rows of mud huts, holding a long staff firmly planted on the ground. The man wore a turban and a shawl was wrapped around his torso. His thick, white moustache drooped slightly at the ends. The man was in the shade of an old Banyan tree. On a square earthen platform at its base were statutes of gods and goddesses.

There were men, women and children in the background watching silently.

“What do you want?” The villager asked harshly as the engineer approached. His eyes were hostile.

“You see,” Gopan spoke mildly, trying to explain. “We –”

The old man interrupted him stating, “You want us to leave.”

“Yes.”

“And go where?”

Gopan did not answer. The villagers were offered good compensation for their land months back. It should not have been difficult for them to find another location to settle down.

“Go where?” the headman repeated bitterly. “Where am I to take those people, leaving behind ashes of our forefathers? We have been staying here for generations. This place is ours.”

“Your land,” Gopan said calmly, “is required for our project. That is why I am here.”

“Project,” village chief said with sarcasm. “My project is my people. Do you know that one of those women is expecting any time? Her first baby. She will not survive a shift from here.”

“Take her to the site hospital,” Gopan suggested. “They won’t charge you anything.”

“Your hospital?” The tone was abrasive. “They will kill her. And the baby as well. We have our own methods and rituals.”

Controlling his frustration, Gopan said firmly, “You had plenty of time. Even last week I sent you a message that you should quit at least by today. This land now belongs to us. You have to go. At once.”

The chief spat. “We shall not go,” he stated.

This was contrary to what the Divisional Engineer had told Gopan. Now the only solution seemed to be removing them by force.

“Well then,” Gopan said, “you will be evicted physically. I’ll be back with men and machines early tomorrow.” He turned abruptly and headed for the Jeep.

“We shall be here,” old man shouted after him.

They were there too, when the engineer returned with a support team next morning. The previous afternoon he had informed his boss about the situation. The Divisional Engineer was appalled.

“Listen,” DE had said, “take all the men you need. I’ll talk to the security chief. Work must proceed according to schedule. Don’t create any problem though. Handle it smoothly.” He paused momentarily, and whispered, “Confidential reports are going out next month.”

“Shall I,” Gopan asked, “put up a note saying that there is resistance?”

“No, no,” DE protested. “It may go right up to the GM. That would take time and our program would be upset. As I told you, confidential reports –”

“Are due next month,” Gopan completed the sentence and got up.

“Actually,” DE went on, “it was the fault of revenue department. They should have given us vacant possession.”

Why did you take non-vacant possession? Gopan suppressed the question and walked out.

In the morning, as Gopan was about to leave for the village, something else happened that disturbed him further. Strangely, it had come from Malini. As he stepped out of the house, she called him from behind. His grandmother used to say, he remembered, that calling back a person leaving on a mission, was a bad omen.

Malini went forward, touched her husband’s arm and asked, “Can’t you let them stay till the child is born?”

“I’ll see that she is shifted to the hospital.”

“But Gopan,” the wife protested, “these people are superstitious. They have their own taboos and customs and beliefs.”

“And half their babies die at birth.”

“That’s in the hands of God.”

Gopan left without another word.

He was still angry when he reached the village ahead of a van load of security personnel and a bulldozer. The village chief was at the same spot where he had stood the previous day. He seemed glued to earth, a part of it, and so immovable. A young man was beside him. Gopan could see other villagers in huddles further away. Their faces were not clear in the morning mist.

Smell of jasmine hung heavily in the windless atmosphere. Gopan noticed white flowers scattered around the deities under the tree.

Security guards in khaki uniforms had scrambled out of their vehicle with batons and shields. Their sergeant, a big-made Anglo-Indian, started a drill. Commands shot out from him and his men followed them to near perfection. It was impressive.

Gopan ignored the village chief who was watching with narrow eyes, and walked over to the bulldozer. The tough looking Sikh driver grinned.

“Move her into position,” he ordered.

Still grinning, the Sikh manoeuvred the machine in line with a row of huts and stopped about twenty-five feet away.

The sergeant had finished the exercise. He went to Gopan and reported, “We’re ready.”

“What do you suggest?”

“A swift action. Four men will block entry into first two huts. Twelve will push the crowd back if necessary. Simultaneously, four guards remove chief and his lackey into the van. That leaves four men in reserve. Plus the driver and me.”

“And we send in the bulldozer,” Gopan said.

“Yes. But demolish only two huts and stop. Give them a chance to gather their belongings and leave.”

“Suppose they fight back?”

“Unlikely. Morale is low. They’re not armed. There may be some weapons hidden inside clothes. We can handle that.”

Gopan hesitated.

“It has to be done now,” sergeant stated with emphasis. “Delay might cause problems.”

“Wait for my signal,” Gopan instructed the sergeant and approached the chief. He met the old man’s gaze, and said commandingly, “The machine will start now. Vacate immediately.”

Village boss looked at him with dignity. He seemed calm and self-assured. “This is our home,” he said. “We are staying.”

To be continued.