Narcopolis

When Khalid arrived, Rashid was having lunch, scooping it up from stainless-steel dabbas spread on the floor. The food, sent hot from upstairs, was backed up with a fish delivery from Delhi Darbar and a stack of tandoori rotis and bheja fry and lassi, thick, no froth, a slab of hard cream on top. He had had a craving for bheja and fish, the bheja with its texture like scrambled eggs and that odd resistance when it burst in the mouth. His older wife, Dariya, had tried to make it at home but she couldn’t manage the flavour that Delhi Darbar’s cook seemed to get every time, without effort. She’d sent biryani, the mutton cooked with the rice, not layered separately, and plates of fresh onion and cucumber, and daal fry with garlic, a film of oil floating on top. He ate no biryani but mutton, bought the meat himself three times a week. Because he could afford it, he ate meat every day, sometimes twice a day, sometimes mutton and chicken. He was sitting cross-legged, hands smeared with rice and masala, working on his second plate of biryani, and he invited his neighbour to join him but Khalid declined, as he always did, declined even to taste the meal. Which was an unMuslim thing to do, never mind that it was rude. Rashid thought: This is what we do: we eat together from the same dish. This is how we remember we’re brothers. He motioned to Khalid to sit. He wasn’t eager to share his lunch in any case and he wanted to take his time with the lassi, which he would have last, like dessert. But Khalid’s presence in the khana had lessened his pleasure in the meal. It took some effort to ignore the man, who was leaning over, putting his mouth near Rashid’s ear, saying he wanted to talk in private, as if Bengali and Dimple were not to be trusted. Rashid continued to eat, methodically working his way through the food. We are in private, he said, when he was washing his hands at the tap. Then they went through the formalities. Salaam alikum. Alikum as salaam. How are you? How’s business? Your family? Your health? And they went through the ordering and serving of tea, paani kum from the restaurant downstairs, brought up double fast by a freelance pipeman. The khana was filling with customers and still Khalid wouldn’t talk, so Rashid suggested they stand on the balcony for a moment, sip from their glasses of milky chai, and only then did he get to it.

‘Much better, Rashidbhai, some privacy in your balcony where I can tell you my news.’

‘Tell me. One minute,’ and Rashid said a few words to Bengali, something about getting the cookpot started for the day’s second batch of chandu, which was an unnecessary order: Bengali had never forgotten to do it.

‘Okay.’

‘I’ve been approached by Sam Biryani. You’ve heard of him, he’s always in the papers.’

‘He’s too much in the papers.’

‘He made an offer, very good terms to open a garad pipeline from Tardeo to Nagpada.’

‘If it’s a good offer, take it up.’

‘That’s why I’m here. I’ve brought this up with you before but you never give me a proper reply. My suggestion is we do it together. Garad is the future of the business.’

‘Your topi is fur, isn’t it? Doesn’t it get warm in this weather?’

‘It’s insulation, bhai, in winter and summer, that’s why we Kashmiris wear them.’

‘That’s why you Kashmiris are so hot-headed. Take it off once in a while, miya, it might lighten your outlook. Meanwhile, listen to me: I won’t sell powder here.’

‘You use it but you won’t sell it.’

‘I use it carefully.’

‘Everybody says that. What about the Pathan, Kader Khan? I’m trying to remember how soon he was finished. Six months? Or less? Such a dada and look at him now, khatarnak junkie.’

‘This is what you want to talk about? Give me a lecture about the evils of drugs?’

‘You’re an educated man. You have your way of seeing things.’

‘You mean I’m not seeing something.’

‘I mean you should be thinking of diversifying, expanding your business.’

‘Garad separates the strong from the weak; it brings out the worst in a man and the best. That’s why the Pathan gave up so quickly; inside he was nothing.’

‘And you?’

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