Story

Vimal Mahajan didn't go to the office today - he took a day off. For several days now, he had the feeling that his entire body was suffering from excessive exertion. Today, he was finally going to rest. He got up late, took his time with the morning routine, and sat down to read the papers.

Lately, he'd been reading the papers without much interest. Events in the Punjab had always left him in a strange state of confusion. He was always reminded of his small native village of Jagrao. Very close to Ludhiana... Sometimes, when he was in high spirits, he would joke, "Two great men were born in this Jagrao: Lala Lajpat Rai and ..." and laugh merrily. But these days he often asked himself: "What is happening to our Punjab?" he once exclaimed to his wife, giving in to the mood: "Ranjna, we are strangers here! Look, the Bombay people are shouting everywhere: "Beautiful Mumbai-Marathi Mumbai!". In other words, we can't even be "local"! And to leave now for Punjab - to be exposed to mortal danger! It probably wasn't so bad in ' forty-seven!"** * * And he fell into a melancholy reverie. It turns out that it is as if someone took away their small homeland, just like that, for no reason...

Vimal Mahajan had been working for Airlines for thirty years. He'll be retiring in just five years. The entire planet became part of his little personal world. He started his career as an airplane cleaner, but thanks to his hard work and honest and responsible attitude to work, he reached a high position. Over the years, he married and became the father of three children. How quickly the years pass!.. In general, looking at him, it is difficult to assume that he is already a grandfather four times - two daughters have two children! Perhaps the reason for his youthful appearance was that he was very careful about his appearance, as well as his health. Another characteristic of him was an almost childlike sincerity, for which he was sometimes praised and sometimes reproached.

Vimal Mahajan absently flipped through the newspaper a few times, put it aside, and was about to sit back in his chair, just to take a nap, when the phone rang. He grimaced in exasperation; today he wanted to take a break from everyone and everything. He picked up the phone: it was from the airport. He grumbled back, " God, give me a break for today!"

"Mr. Mahajan, trouble! Zero ninety-one has crashed! Close to London!

"What?"! I'll be right there!"

Vimal Mahajan clenched his teeth until they hurt. He began to feverishly recall the names of his colleagues: what kind of crew was on this unfortunate 091 today? In a state of extreme excitement, he began to dress.

Ranjna, his wife, sensed something was wrong: when Vimal was nervous, he always gritted his teeth.

"What's wrong, dear?" After all, you wanted to rest today. Where all of a sudden?..

"Ranjna, I have to go to the office... New York flight... plane crash...

"What-o-o?"! After all, Arun also flew to New York!

"Arun! Oh my God!.. Lord, make it all right, Go-spo-di-i-i!!! .."I'll call you... from the office and..." but the voice was shaking and wouldn't obey, and Vimal Mahajan couldn't finish the sentence.

All the way, Vimal tried to pull himself together. He had no idea how he would break the terrible news to Arun's wife. He loved Arun as if he were his own son. At his wedding, he, Vimal Mahajan, sacrificed his principles, tied a turban around his head as required by custom, and foolishly danced in the gay wedding crowd, followed by the happy bridegroom on horseback... Arun's young wife, Anuradha, also had great respect for Vimal Mahajan and was very fond of his entire family. Vimal's hands were as cold as ice. Being a staunch atheist, he unconsciously repeated all the prayers he could remember and prayed to the Almighty for Arun's salvation.

A small group of people gathered outside the office. So the news had already begun to spread. There was a hint of hope on the faces of those present, and everyone wanted to learn about the fate of their relatives and friends as soon as possible.

Vimal's assistant Afzal Khan reported: "Sir, flight 091 was heading from Montreal to London. The plane was already close to London when there was an explosion, and the car fell into the sea. So far, this is all that is known. Details are expected any minute now."

Vimal Mahajan finally regained his composure and dialed the telephone number of the London office. He needed all the details of the disaster before he could start doing something about it. The connection failed, and the number was broken again and again.

He picked up the list of crew members. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped from his chest: Arun's name was not on the list! But... But those on board the plane were also his friends and good acquaintances...

Ramesh Kumar! About three months ago, against his parents ' wishes, he had married a Parsi girl, a flight attendant. They were both on this flight... Unconsciously, he kept calling out to all the gods, " May this terrible news be a mistake!"

As the news spread, so did the people's impatience. The phone calls came one after the other. Vimal had only one wish now: to cover his ears with his hands and sit in silence, not communicating with anyone, not answering anyone's questions. But it was his duty to try to calm down the relatives who had lost their heads from excitement! If he himself had a hard time coping with emotions after hearing about the disaster, then what does it feel like

* One of the biggest leaders of the national liberation movement in Punjab.

** In 1947, British India was divided into India and Pakistan, accompanied by bloody sectarian clashes.

page 60

now to those whose parents, children, brothers and sisters, wives and husbands flew on the ill-fated flight?! Their impatience is natural. And Vimal Mahajan reluctantly continued to answer the phone.

The telex chattered. The first report came from London: "There is an assumption that the plane was the victim of a terrorist attack. There were 329 passengers on the plane with the crew. So far, no information about those rescued has been received. With the theoretical probability that someone survived the plane crash and was able to get out of it, it is almost impossible to survive in the waters of the Atlantic at such low temperatures." Vimal Mahajan's mind flashed: "The passengers and crew must have already been in London in their minds, and ... the black depths of the sea!"

"Does terror have a religion? he thought suddenly. - And if terrorists destroy a plane with people, does anyone fulfill their demands after that? Then why?.. I wonder if these 329 dead will be considered " martyred martyrs?" It seems that exactly the same number of" martyrs for freedom " died in Jalianwapa Bagh Square. The country has not forgotten them, and their memory is still alive today. Will people remember these unfortunate people? In fact, both were victims of extremism, and both were unarmed... There will be some lawyer who will justify the terrorists!.."

A phone call interrupted my thoughts. It was Ranjna, asking about Arun.

Seven o'clock struck. The phone rang incessantly. Now a large crowd of people - relatives of passengers on the New York flight-gathered at the airport. Everyone was interested in one question: "What's new?" Everyone prayed in their hearts for the salvation of their neighbors, everyone hoped for a miracle...

It was becoming increasingly difficult for airport workers to contain the crowd's emotions. Vimal Mahajan himself calmed people down as best he could while waiting for news from London.

Ranjna called again, " Can you come home for a little while? You need to eat too." Oh, and he threw out on his wife what had boiled up during the day! However, all his subordinates, leaving for a while one or two at a time, managed to fill their stomachs. Only Vimal Mahajan remained without food, having soothing conversations with those gathered at the airport...

Messages continued to arrive over the telex. Seventy miles from London, an explosion occurred on board the liner, and the plane fell into the sea... Boats and submarines are sent to the crash site...

Vimal Mahajan automatically continued to perform his duties. It was now quite obvious that everyone on board the plane had died in the crash.

The ship's captain, Vikram Singh, was a friend of Vimal Mahajan. When they were both in Bombay at the same time, they spent their evenings together, often playing bridge at the club. They both loved the game, but Vimal never played for money. Vikram Singh always teased him, calling him a "pundit fool". He was only six months away from retirement... But now... not six months, not a teasing friend...

Co-pilot Anirudh Sen has a three-month-old daughter at home... How would his young wife bear the news that she was a widow?

Pilots who were off-duty today also arrived at the airport. Some of them were instructed by Vimal Mahajan to go to the homes of their fallen comrades and inform their families of what had happened. This was the most difficult assignment, he knew. His heart sank as he imagined the reaction of the family members who heard the news on the radio. How do I tell my wife that her husband won't be coming home again? How do you explain to your kid why his dad will never bring him "Mickey Mouse" and "Donald Duck" again?

Three or four days passed in great tension. The crowd of relatives did not leave the airport. Vimal Mahajan also barely slept for several nights in a row. The newspapers continued to focus on the sad event. The causes of the plane crash were being investigated. They talked about the" black box", the creation of a commission of inquiry and various formalities in this regard.

The ever-hungry Nanaku-a roadside dweller - also somehow found out about the plane crash. As he popped peanuts into his mouth with his polio-scarred hand, he chewed the news to his friend Peter, who was passing by. "Hey, brother, if this plane was destined to fall, then why in the sea? Just think of all the valuable things that have gone missing! Surely there were vids and televisions, and gold, and expensive saris-imagine, all this went to the bottom! Everything!.. It would have fallen somewhere nearby, and we would have got something..."

"Sorry, buddy, I'm in a hurry, I don't have time to talk to you," Peter said. "And this.".. In general, of course... For Christ's sake, the poor man should also be served! But-everything is God's will!"

Several foreign terrorist groups have claimed responsibility for the plane crash. With such pathos, as if they had accomplished something great and now they were counting on a well-deserved reward. Sick, mentally deranged people! They are also proud to have killed so many innocent people!.. Vimal's heart was filled with anger and disgust at the criminals.

Several meetings were held at the airline's headquarters. It was decided that foreign citizens will be compensated for the loss of relatives in their homeland, and Indians-according to Indian law. Even death had not equalized people, and now there were only "white" and "colored" people...

Senior management accepted Vimal Mahajan's offer of a charter flight to London with the next of kin of the victims to identify the bodies. The Pilots ' Union decided to allocate one hundred thousand rupees from its fund to each family of the deceased crew member.

Vimal Mahajan was very surprised when Ramesh Kumar's father walked briskly into his office.

"Mr. Mahajan, as you know, I am Romesh's father. My wife and I are currently divorced and, of course, do not live together. You probably remember that my daughter Nina was killed in the previous crash of your company's plane... Just some rock!.. Yes, well, then I was the one who received compensation from the Airlines and your union. I would like to see the amount due for the death of my son and daughter-in-law paid now as well

* On this square in Amritsar in 1919, British soldiers shot a peaceful crowd of residents (Indian "Bloody Sunday"!). The author of the story made a mistake in the numbers: approx. 1 thousand and injured approx. 2 thousand people. (L. V.'s note)

** Pundit-scholar, sage.

page 61

exactly for me. I came to you to get ahead of my wife, because she can also claim compensation! I brought you the application first so that you can do the right thing!.. I'm already old and can't earn any money...

"Leave your application. We will review it."

"I will be very grateful to you! Please take into account my age - I just don't have the strength to go to the instances! Thank you in advance. I take my leave!"

Vimal Mahajan sat in a daze. This man's son and daughter-in-law were killed less than a week ago, and he's already worried about compensation!.. Unfathomable!

All the work related to sending relatives to London to identify the victims was entrusted to Vimal Mahajan. A crowd had gathered at the door of his office. Vimal had yet another difficult task to solve: who to send to London and who to refuse.

Finally, everything was ready for departure. Vimal Mahajan had great difficulty maintaining his outward confidence and calmness while surrounded by sobbing and sobbing people.

Mrs. Vadekar kept wailing. Her son was flying to India to get married. How could she have imagined that she would have to fly to London herself? What is it like for a mother to see her beloved son's funeral bier instead of a wedding palanquin?.. She repeated, as if in a delirium: "Son, I will only see you off as a groom! I'll dress you up in your wedding clothes!"

Mr. Maganbhai's twenty-year-old granddaughter was flying alone from abroad. Her father couldn't fly with her, they didn't let her go to work. Now my grandfather sat looking out of the window with unseeing, tearful eyes.

Deepinder was flying with a double burden of grief: his father had died a few days ago, and his older brother was flying from safe America to attend his funeral...

Now misfortune has united everyone, equalized everyone. Such concepts as religion and class have lost their meaning. More recently, they were very important for everyone, but not for the terrorists - their inhumanity was not selective!

Representatives of various companies from all over the world conducted search operations in the Atlantic. First, they found separate parts of the plane. Then they began to find the bodies of the dead.

They were all in a terrible state, as if someone had stripped the skin off each body and disfigured it. The identification of the dead was difficult.

In London, all relatives were provided with a place to stay and meals were arranged, all at the expense of the Airlines. Vimal Mahajan was very diligent in performing his duties related to the accommodation of the passengers who arrived with him. He wasn't thinking about himself - he didn't care about food or sleep right now. Perhaps he was trying to comfort himself by helping people who were heartbroken. He tried to make sure that none of them experienced any inconvenience, so that there were no complaints... But then a passenger came up to him:

"Mr. Mahajan, we are satisfied with the accommodation and food. But please try to make sure that we are paid at least some money here, because in a hurry, none of us had time to issue credit cards. After all, we have to pay a certain daily allowance so that we can go somewhere!"

Vimal Mahajan was even confused... " Did he come here to identify the bodies of his loved ones or for a walk?!" But this visit was only the beginning ...

Sheela's father Deshmukh was a senior official in a government agency. "Mr. Mahajan, you can say that our daughter gave her life to Airlines. How are you going to compensate for our loss? Some pathetic amount of money? What do we old people need this money for? Our second daughter lives in America, so my wife and I would like to be able to visit her every year while we are still alive. Of course, at the expense of your company. I will also talk to the minister about this."

Vimal Mahajan wanted to give up everything and run away from here, back to his home. "How greedy a person can be!.. These soulless people are trying to profit even from the death of their relatives!.. Get away from them!" But after all, he took up this difficult task, paying tribute to the memory of his dead colleagues. No, he must, must have the patience and courage to see it through to the end!..

Premises in the Victoria Hospital. The bodies of the dead were brought here. Corpses... Disfigured, caught in the deep salt sea... Not everyone will be able to be identified... What a painful death the Creator has prepared for some of his creations! Dead bodies range from infants to grizzled old men... One has no arm, another has no legs, and the third has a gaping hole for a mouth ... And nearby-a mountain of only individual fragments of bodies. Only the jewelry left on the severed fingers, hands, and necks can be identified here... Only one corpse was completely intact , with a frozen mask of unbearable suffering on its face. This one was Nancy, the family's wet nurse - a mother and three younger sisters. Without knowing her father, she managed to climb out of the depths of the impoverished village herself and drag her family out into the city. The fragile Nancy, who was stronger and more courageous than the strongest men. Now it will never rise again... Her mother fainted at first, then came back to her senses and stared at Nancy's face for a long time. She kissed her daughter hard on the cold lips. His old body shook with an inner shudder. We must survive! Three daughters are waiting for her at home. One of the older girls has just finished her bachelor's degree, and the younger ones are still in high school. We must move everything for the sake of the remaining three. The mother said that she wanted to take her daughter's body home to be buried in her native land, as required by her religion. A true Christian!..

Everyone else looked rather discouraged: it was almost impossible to find relatives without conducting an expert examination, and everyone agreed that in this situation identification does not make much sense. We decided to perform a common traditional ritual of burning the remains, according to the custom of Hindus. It was also decided that a funeral pyre would be built on the seashore, and then a monument to the victims would be erected on the same site as a reminder of what terrorism is.

Vimal Mahajan sat down heavily in his chair. Dealing with the problems of relatives of the victims, conducting continuous negotiations with the British authorities and with the highest officials of the Airlines, he was terribly tired-mentally and physically. There was also the depressing impression of a giant funeral pyre. He closed his eyes.

"Mr. Mahajan!

"I'm listening!" he said without opening his eyes.

- . I want to consult you! Opening his eyes, he looked questioningly at the newcomer.

- With God's help, we will finish-

page 62

they sewed everything they came here for. Now I would like to buy something. Can you tell me where you can find something cheaper?..

It was too much for him. It was all he could do not to lash out at the bastard, pounding him with all his might, kicking him until the wind was out of him... But he only gritted his teeth when he heard a voice inside: "Calm down, Vimal! You agreed to take all the trouble of going to London yourself, and no one forced you to. Besides, who were the unfortunate victims of the disaster to you to take everything so personally? What kind of world do you live in? You still have some kind of dense mentality! Death does not take everyone, the living remain alive. Here is this guy standing in front of you-let him live as he sees fit. Calm down, Vimal!"

For London stores, it doesn't matter whether there will be one or two hundred customers more or less today. From morning to night, more and more people's faces flash by, choosing the things they need... Get around as many stores as possible! "I'm going back to Bombay tomorrow morning." Those who left, as far as possible, tried to get as many purchases as possible.

In summer, the London sun likes to play hide-and-seek. Today it decided not to appear at all. Lines of clouds were moving uneasily across the gloomy, gray sky.

At the airport, at the Airline counter, the atmosphere was also filled with anxiety. Passengers of the charter flight tried to carry as much baggage as possible. Shaukat Ali, the desk clerk, tried to talk some sense into them.

- Dear friend, only one of your TV sets weighs 25 kg, and all your luggage weighs 60 kg. And such a large bag with hand luggage. You understand that each passenger is allowed to carry only 20 kg!

"But I came to identify my brother's body, it's a special situation!"

Vimal Mahajan had to step in again:

"What does your brother's death have to do with the weight of your luggage?"

But the passengers managed to persuade the fuming Vimal Mahajan and other representatives of the airline companies to get permission to carry all their luggage.

The plane gained altitude, the "Fasten seat belts" signal went off, and passengers began walking around the cabin. Vimal Mahajan immersed himself in writing the report.

It was time to feed the passengers. Vimal left the report to go through the rows of seats, checking that everything was in order.

Mrs. Vadekar did not touch her food, but stared blankly at the back of the front seat. She never had to dress her son's body in wedding clothes. She couldn't even identify him...

Deepinder, who had lost two loved ones in one week, sat with his head in his hands and moaned softly.

Someone tried to fill the mountain with whiskey, sending it down one portion after another.

"Drink to your heart's content, my friend. Vimal's ear caught a drunken mutter. "Airlines had a good idea...

He moved on.

"What kind of vidic did you buy?"

"NV 450!"

"Lucky you! And I looked in several places, did not find and took what came across. However, what difference does it make, not for sale after all!

"So you bought the Sony after all?"

- Yes, 32 cm. And you?

"I don't know... I took the G. V. C. ,but it looks really good! I didn't really have a choice...

The plane was flying over the Black Sea. Due to the weather, we had to change course a little. The plane was noticeably shaken.

"The Black Sea is probably its depths, really black... Vimal Mahajan thought. "But can the depths of the sea be blacker than a black heart?"

Translated from Hindi by L. VASILYEVA

Постоянный адрес данной публикации: