Dharman

“Enge, namma intha varusham South Africa pogalamnu sonneengaleh ?” Hema sat on the sofa, near her husband, and leaned on him. Chief Inspector Dharman looked at her and grunted. “Pogalam”. Hema knew better than to pursue the matter further. She knew Dharman would make it happen. She smiled to herself as she switched the Astro channels. Dharman looked around “Where is Mohan?”.

“He said he was going to a friend’s house. “ Hema paused. “Did you notice he’s been a little down these days?”

Dharman looked up, a little startled, “What do you mean, down?”

“Well, he’s just very quiet.”

“Onkitte thaneh pesuvan. Pesi paru. Enna problem kelu”

She nodded. And started switching channels again.

*

Dharman was in plainclothes, as he sat in his car in the basement carpark. Minutes later the heavy set man knocked softly on the glass. Dharman looked at him. He took his time to wind down the window. The man was sweating. “Vanakkam anneh.” The gold teeth looked incongruous in his twisted mouth.

Dharman gestured to the man. A small parcel changed hands. “Pitchai annachi vanakkam solla sonnaru.” Dharman ignored him, and wound up the glass.

*

“Our South Africa trip is set. April 4th. Let’s take Mohan along.” Dharman said it casually. Hema was overjoyed. She smiled widely, came over and hugged her husband. Dharman was pleased. He loved it when he made his wife happy.

For a moment he remembered his father. Ramasamy Padayachi was a man of Gandhian principles. He had named his only son Dharman. He had a vision of his son being a beacon of virtue one day. “Truth will triumph,” Ramasamy would declare. But for all his proclamations, Ramasamy’s wife and children knew only poverty, misery and suffering all their lives.

Dharman had vowed that his own wife and children would never face the same fate. He gave them all the good things in life. Dharman’s methods would have broken Ramasamy’s heart. Fortunately Ramasamy died early.

*

“Enge, Mohan innum varaleh”, Hema sounded worried on the phone. Dharman looked at the clock. It was 2 am. “Don’t worry. Naan pathukkaren,” Dharman called Felix.

“Felix, my son Mohan, he went out and is not back yet. Can you check?”

“Ok boss.” Felix was a miracle worker. And Dharman’s trusted right hand man.

*
Dharman had fallen asleep at his desk. The telephone woke him. “Yah?”
“Sar, its Felix. We found your son. I think you better come over. Sentul, Samarinda Flats, 8-22. ”

“What’s the matter?”

“Sar, I am sorry. Your son… he’s …. gone. Drug overdose. It came from Pitchai’s man. You want me to get him ? ”