Free Death in Mumbai by Meenal Baghel

address the issue of what is normal, and what is not. He told me a story—a real one. During the 1992–3 riots, disturbed by what was going on in Mumbai during the time, he left the sanctuary of his home one day to step out for a walk and spotted three men standing aimlessly on the ‘S’ Bridge at Byculla. ‘Something about their insouciance in the midstof such tension alerted me. I went up to them and started chatting. After a while, when they had confirmed that I was not a journalist, they asked if I wanted a colour television and a video cassette recorder for Rs 3,000. I asked them if it was loot ka maal, they said, “No, it’s Musalman ka maal.” I gathered the men were rioters and since I was interested in their psychology, I gave them my card and told them I was a ‘bheje ka doctor,’ and that if they ever wanted to, they could come and see me at no charge. They seemed sceptical. “We wouldn’t need to,” they said.
    â€œYou will,” I countered. “When you can’t sleep, when you will get headaches and when your upset stomach will not get better despite the medicines, you’ll want to see me.”’
    A month after this meeting he got a call from one of the men, describing the exact symptoms. ‘We spoke for a while until I asked him directly if he had participated in a killing. He admitted he had beaten up a man, slashed him with a sword, and then set him on fire. This man had then gone back home where his mother and sister had washed his bloodstained clothes and served him hot food. He ate well that day but soon after found his appetite deserting him.’
    â€˜I dream,’ he told Udayan, ‘that the dead man enters my body through the crevice between the nail and the skin of my toe and goes on to occupy my stomach. I have no appetite because he sits in my stomach, filling it.’ The man had stopped eating and lost weight dramatically.

    One of the side stories from Maria and Emile’s murder trial at the Mumbai sessions court had been Maria’s studiedly fashionable appearances. Au courant skinny pants, delicately patterned tops cinched at the waist emphasizing its smallness, high-heeled shoes, and impeccable make-up; it was as if denied a stab at stardom, Maria was determined to play a stellar role as herself for the news cameras. It even prompted her lawyer Sudeep Pasbola to once comment after an adjournment due to her late arrival in court, ‘Madam, please get up earlier tomorrow to finish your make-up, and be in court on time.’ (Pasbola later withdrew from the case after his junior was accused of trying to bribe an important prosecution witness to change her testimony in favour of Maria.)
    But as the trial drew to a close, Maria began undergoing a transformation. She ballooned to twice her size, and started wearing drab clothes. She stopped using make-up and opted for flats over the high heels she usually wore. On several occasions it happened that people who peeped into the courtroom, prompted by sheer curiosity to see the actress, walked away tsking in disappointment.
    One day, during a break in court proceedings while we stood talking, I offered to leave her alone so she could have lunch, but she told me not to bother. ‘I just can’t seem to eat these days, I have no appetite for food, though I can’t stop binging on chocolates,’ she said, pulling out a paper bag full of chocolate bars that was to be lunch and dinner. ‘That’s why I’ve become so big.’
    This self-destructive behaviour was not new. Though she often covered them with bangles, she had unmistakablewelts on her wrist that web across the length of her forearm. Since there is never any delicate way to ask such a question, I simply asked her whether she had ever tried to harm herself. ‘There had been unrelenting pressure from my family to get married though I myself had no desire for marriage. On their prodding