'Inside the envelope was a glossy, eight-by-six photograph of Abbas Rizvi, the producer, and a typewritten piece of paper containing his address. I knew that he would be Ahmed's next victim, and that with his death, my dream of becoming an actor would also die. I had to warn Rizvi. But if Ahmed found out, he would have no qualms about killing me either. After all, he was a professional hitman with a licence to kill.'
'So what did you do?' I ask breathlessly.
'I did what I had to do. I immediately went to Rizvi and told him about the contract on him. He didn't believe me, so I showed him the picture and the address which had come by courier. Once he saw the photo in my hand, all his doubts vanished. He told me he would run away to Dubai and lie low for a year or so. He was now so indebted to me, he promised that on his return he would make me a hero in his next film and till then he would get me trained. So that is why he is funding my acting course and why I am counting the days till I turn eighteen.'
'My God, what a story, Salim,' I say, letting out a deep breath. 'But by taking that packet to Rizvi, didn't you expose yourself to Ahmed? He would have received a phone call that evening and he would have known about the missing envelope.'
'No, I didn't expose myself, because Ahmed did get a packet on the dining table when he returned that evening.'
'But . . . then Ahmed would have killed Rizvi.'
'No, because the packet contained a new picture and a new address, which I got typed at the nearby typing institute.'
'Brilliant. You mean you gave a fictitious address? But how could you give a fictitious picture?'
'I could not. So I did not. I gave Ahmed a real picture and a real address, and he actually went and carried out the hit. But before he could discover that he had killed the wrong guy, I told him I had to go urgently to Bihar and left his employment. I hid here and there, I didn't enter Byculla, I even stopped going to Haji Ali, which is just opposite. And then last week I saw on Crime Watch that the police had shot a dreaded contract killer by the name of Ahmed Khan in a shoot-out near Churchgate Station. So today I came to Haji Ali to offer my thanks to Allah, and behold, who do I see when I come out but you!'
'Yes, it is an amazing coincidence. But I have just one more question. Whose picture and address did you give Ahmed?'
'The only one worth giving. I gave him a glossy eight-by-six photo of Mr Babu Pillai, and Maman's address!!'
* * *
Smita claps her hands. 'Marvellous! I know by now that you are a smart cookie, but I didn't know that Salim is also a genius. He got licence to kill by proxy, and he chose the perfect target. So what happened after? Did you tell Salim about your participation in the quiz?'
'No. I didn't reveal why I had come to Mumbai. I simply said that I was in Delhi, working as a servant, and was visiting the city for a couple of days.'
'So Salim has no clue about your appearance on W3B?'
'No. I was going to inform him, but before I could do so the police arrested me.'
'I see. Anyway, now let's see how the fortuitous meeting with Salim helped your fortunes on the show.'
* * *
In the studio, the lights have been dimmed again.
Prem Kumar addresses the camera. 'We now move on to question number nine, for one million rupees.' He turns to me. 'Are you ready?'
'Ready,' I reply.
'OK. Here is question number nine. This one is from the world of sport. Tell me, Mr Thomas, which sport do you play?'
'None.'
'None? Then how come you are so fit? Look at me, I have gained so much flab despite going to the gym every morning.'
'If you had to work as a waiter and commute thirty kilometres every day, you too would become fit,' I reply.
The audience titters. Prem Kumar scowls.
'OK, here comes question number nine, from the world of cricket. How many Test centuries has India's greatest batsman Sachin Malvankar scored? Your choices are a) 34, b) 35, c) 36 or d) 37?'
The music commences.
'Can I ask a question?'
'Yes, sure.'
'Has India played any other country since the recent series with Australia?'
'No, not to my knowledge.'
'Then I know the answer. It is C. 36.'
'Is that your final answer? Remember, there is a million rupees riding on your reply.'
'Yes, it is C. 36.'
'Are you absolutely, one hundred per cent sure?'
'Yes.'
There is a crescendo of drums. The correct answer flashes.
'Absolutely, one hundred per cent correct! Sachin Malvankar has indeed scored 36 Test centuries. You have just won a million rupees! Ladies and gentlemen, we will now take a short commercial break.'
'Cut!' I say.
TRAGEDY QUEEN
A family drama with doses of comedy and action, ending eventually in tragedy. In film parlance, this is how I would describe the time I spent with Neelima Kumari. She was an actress. And I worked for three years in her flat in Juhu Vile Parle.
