"Excuse me, can you spare a minute?"
The tone was polite. Decent. And courteous.
I slowed down my pace.
The voice owner - she was a few steps behind me by now and I can't see her - repeated: "Excuse me, can you spare a minute?"
None seemed to have obliged her, I could figure out because she repeated: "Excuse me, can you spare a minute?"
What the hell? Why nobody is stopping? Why no one is ready to listen to her?
Pooph. Forget about others. Why I didn't. I also crossed her. Perhaps oblivious to her pleadings.
I halted.
Turned back to take a peek.
There she was.
50 years, maybe.
Uncombed hair. Droopy eyes. Druggie?
Dirty clothes.
No, she does not have an alms plate as a receptable.
Yes, she is no beggar.
"Excuse me, can you spare a minute?" Again there she was.
What the hell?
Is it her bedraggled looks that is putting off some listeners?
No idea.
Why not I "spare a minute" for her?
Good idea.
What the f...k?
I have nothing to do for the next 45 minutes.
Vinod Pandit, that black, moustacheless, swine at the transport company, texted me five minutes before the appointed time that he would be late because he was held up in a traffic snarl on Mehrauli Gurgaon Road.
That is how I have "spare" 45 minutes.
I can easily "spare a minute" out of that.
I took a U-turn and approached her with a casual and friendly, "hi".
"Uncle, you have a spare minute?"
Uncle? Never mind. Let I be her uncle.
"Yes, ... Tell me, what do you want?"
"Uncle, I have murdered someone last night..."
"What?"
"Yes, uncle, I have killed last night"
"Did you go to police? Or are you on the run?"
"No. I am not on the run. I had gone to police station to surrender."
"Okay. Then?"
"They refused to arrest me."
"Why?"
"They want proof."
"Proof of what?"
"The murder"
"... But you said you had killed someone. ... friend or enemy of yours perhaps, no?"
"Yeah."
"So there ought to be a body wherever you had killed him .... or her?"
"Hmmm."
"What? It is him or her?
"Him, definitely. ... Madan Sabnis."
"Ok. Where did the murder take place?"
"What?"
"Where? Where did you kill him? Home?"
..
"Then where? At office. In car? Where?"
I could feel the excitement. Interesting. Curious.
By now, she was holding my hands and looking into my eyes.
Both of us were in a way blocking the smooth passage of the flowing passers-by. A few of them slowed down, peeked at us and left.
None halted. Everybody is busy engrossed in their own world perhaps.
Just because I had some "spare" time, does not mean everyone has.
"Here."
"Where? Here means here?"
"Here," she said pointing to her head.
What?
"I killed Madan last night ... He ditched me to marry Sonali, the receptionist at office."
"So you killed him..."
"Hm... I took a meat cutter and butchered him into pieces. At least 10-15 pieces."
"Did he try to stop you or run away?"
"No. He was sleeping when I cut him into pieces. Before he went to sleep, I had drugged him."
"Wow. Meticulous planning."
"I gave a lot of thought, you know. That bastard cheated me. I walked out of my family just to be with that son of a gun, you know."
"Madan, isn't it?"
"Yes. Madan. Arsehole."
"Where is he now?"
"I told you. He's dead."
"Ah. Yeah. You told me."
...
"But I want to know why police refused to cooperate with you?"
"They want the proof, I told you.
"Why can't you show them the cut portions of Madan? .... Where are those piece?"
"Hey, mister! Are you mad or what? I told you I killed him in my mind. How will there be a body, you idiot?"
"Ah.. Is it your first murder?"
"What?"
"What I mean is whether you have any past experience of killing?"
"Even if I have killed someone in the past, I have no idea now. But take it from me. I have killed Madan. "
"Ok. YOu murdered Madan. Police refuse to believe because you have no proof. Or they have no body to link you with the murder."
"Good. You're marvellous and sharp."
"By the way, did the police hear your full story? Like about your parents? Your office? Sonali?"
"Hey, mister! Tell me, are you also a police detective or what?"
"Why are you asking that?"
"Those stupid, pot bellied police wallahs also asked the same questions."
"What did you tell them?
"I told them everything I told you."
"Then, what happened?
"Nothing happened."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, nothing happened?"
"Like I said, nothing happened. Don't you understand simple English, you idiot?"
Something is wrong somewhere. Am unable to figure out.
This girl is getting restive.
Perhaps other sympathetic listeners before me must have gone through this terrible session with her.
Nobody likes to be insulted.
I looked at my handset to check time.
Another 10 minutes before the appointed time with that transport company chap.
I should leave now.
But one last question I must ask her before leaving her alone again.
"Did the police contact your parents?"
"No."
"Did they go to your home?"
"Nope."
"Did they go to office to meet Madan and Sonali?"
"No."
"Why?"
YOu son of a gun, they say there is nobody at the address of my parents which I had given them. They also say there is no office at the address which I had given them. So, they said there is no Madan. There is no Sonali."
"Whaaaaat?"
"Yes. They could not trace anything.Inefficient idiots."
"So what do they say?"
"They say ....
"What?"
"They say I am mad."
I quickly took to my heels.
"Excuse me, can you spare a minute please?" She was at it again.
I did not look back.
There is no need to.
