Free Animal's People by Indra Sinha

case?”
    â€œWho can tell?” says Zafar, flipping over pages. “One day something must surely happen, why not today?”
    â€œThat’s a fine philosophy,” says Bhoora. “Me, I’d have long ago given up.”
    â€œGiving up is not Zafar’s style,” says Nisha from the danger side.
    â€œEighteen years, it’s the lifetime of my eldest,” says Bhoora. “Boy’s just got married, his wife has a liking for chicken, daily it’s Selim get me a chicken, and make sure it has no pink feathers.” Bhoora swerves to miss an onrushing bhutt-bhutt-pig. “How is the boy to afford any chicken let alone a non-pink one?” Eyes, I should explain that at Khaufpuri chicken centres they put a pink mark on yesterday’s birds, which are cheaper because they’ve been in the cages an extra day, it makes them taste not so good.
    â€œBhooré miyañ,” says Nisha, “you can’t blame the girl for being used to good things. This is your fault for finding him a wife with expensive tastes.” She leans past me and gives Zafar a smile which turns my stomach.
    â€œSo what’s he doing now, your son?” asks Zafar with a chuckle.
    â€œZafar bhai, he wants to be an engineer, but I told him, all such fancy ideas forget, learn to drive an auto, it’s not such a bad life.”
    â€œAuto driving is honest work,” says Zafar, “but an engineer’s wife could eat chicken twice a day.” I can hear the bugger’s mind churning, he’s thinking how he can help Bhoora’s son find the money for training. No wonder people adore him.
    â€œAt least I now know what advice to give,” says Bhoora. “Zafar bhai says tell your wife that one day she will surely have chicken, just she may have to wait eighteen years.”
    The case is supposed to start in court two, Naya Adalat, at ten o’clock. Quarter to ten we are outside, half past ten we’re still waiting. There’s just Nisha, Zafar and me. No sign of judge, lawyers. Defendants are a whole nother joke, eighteen years late, what’s a few more minutes?
    â€œSuch a faith in the law my dad has,” says Nisha, “he should see this.” She tosses her hair, which is a thing girls learn to do from the movies to show they’re annoyed, then gives a little glance at Zafar. I really hate seeing her look to him for approval, but Zafar just nods, again checks the clock.
    I’ve tugged his trouser to get his attention. “Why don’t you wear a watch?”
    â€œWhat, and handcuff myself to time?” He gives me a grin. He’s thinking, I guess, that I’ll ask him to explain, so I don’t ask.
    Nisha leans against Zafar and closes her eyes, putain strokes her hair.
    â€œIn this very court,” I say to break the fucking spell, “I used to be a mystery defendant.” So then they want to know how, when, why etcetera, and I’ve done the voices.
    â€”Case against boy known as Animal, section chaar sau bees.
    â€”Where is the accused?
    â€”Your honour he is here.
    â€”Where? I don’t see him.
    â€”Right here, your honour, in the dock.
    â€”Don’t be silly. I am looking at the dock, there’s no one there.
    â€”Your honour, accused is of unusual stature.
    Zafar’s chuckling. Nisha pats my shoulder. “Such a fool.”
    â€œNot such a fool,” says Zafar. “Empty dock’s our problem too.”
    Ten to eleven the judge finally turned up, arrived too are some local lawyer types in black suits. “New judge,” sighs Nisha. “I was four years old when this case began, now it’s had thirteen judges.”
    â€œLucky for some.” I’ve climbed on the backs of the public seats, which is the only way I can catch a sight of the new milord, plus it brings my head close to Nisha’s. She turns and smiles at me. Every bad thought about her and Zafar, they are