Bubba dragged his legs along as he walked back home from school. He hated school. The teachers always looked at him as if he was going to hit them. He sighed. At eight, he knew what his village stood for.
Sadpur, near Muzzafarnagar, had always attracted that reaction from anybody. It was famous for illegal arms trade and gang warfare. And Bubba’s family was one of the foremost arms dealers in the area.
It was obviously a very unsafe area. But Bubba had nothing to fear. His Abba’s men were forever around, looking out for him. He rarely ever saw Abba, though. His Ammi, on the other hand, was always home. Always. He had never seen her leave the house even once. He’d heard her speak of the town she was from.
“When I was your age, we used to play all evening after school. Shahpur is much bigger than his place. A city, almost,” she would say. And after she said so, she cried. Bubba never understood why girls cried. Allah must have made them wrong. That’s why they cried so easily.
Bubba never cried. He was the leader of the children at school. They all listened to him and did what he said. If there were any new children, they were either forced to submit to his authority or they’d have to leave the school. But, he didn’t get any satisfaction from that. He’d heard his father’s men say that the truest followers came by themselves. He was not sure what it meant, but he knew that he was doing something wrong.
He wiped the dust from his sleeve and rubbed his face on his arm. It was a hot, dusty day and he was trailing behind two other boys. Malik and Ajay were his best friends, even though they walked much faster than he did.
Malik turned around and yelled, “Oy Bubba! What’re you doing? Move fast, will you? It will get dark very soon, and I don’t want my Ammi looking for me.”
Malik’s Ammi came out of the house. He didn’t have an Abba. She worked in some company and always brought sweets for Bubba. Abba didn’t like Malik’s Ammi. He said she was too independent. Bubba did not know the meaning of that word, but he knew that she was doing something wrong and that she would never be forgiven.
Ajay was a quieter boy. He was the pujari’s son, and he helped his father out in the evenings. Bubba liked Ajay more than Malik. Malik was too loudmouthed for his taste, Bubba’d decided.
As he kept walking he could see the two outposts of the village. Unlike other villages, his had outposts or watchtowers as that government man had called it. There was a man on either one with a big gun. They looked around all day. Bubba never knew whom they were waiting for with such big guns, but they always scared him. The meanest of men were put up there.
One of them nodded at Bubba and waved him away. He ran. Ran till his legs could. Ran till he couldn’t breathe. Ran till he fell on his doorstep. He felt intense pain.
All that happened after was a blur. Someone opened the door, picked him up and took him inside. His Ammi came with something in her hand and rubbed it on his leg. He was put to bed after that.
To be continued
