The Russian Consignment

Manny ran a tense hand through his smooth beard. “Ive done this before, so what if the goods are a bit different this time..I know I can..I will” ,thought he,trying to steady his shaky nerves. He hugged his accomplice, Sukhi, a goodbye. The hug turned out a moment too long , a grasp too tight, and betrayed his discomfort and lack of self assurance. Sukhi put a brother’s hand on his shoulder and said cheerfully “Rab raakha” (may god take care of you). Even this lighthearted good luck wish did more to stir his discomfort rather than steady it.

Shrugging his shoulders, he stepped into the Swarn Shatabdi which would take him and his cargo to his destination, Ludhiana. He made sure the cargo was settled in safely and comfortably and then took his own seat, 2 rows behind…2 rows behind, close enough to keep a hawk’s eye on the goods, far enough to slip away into nothingness if things got tricky.

Manvinder Singh Lakha was the blue eyed boy of his village in Punjab. Born into obscurity, he had always harboured dreams of money, glamour, big city life. He pushed himself hard and soon found himself in Ludhiana, working for a big property firm as an accountant. He was sharp, smooth and willing to bend rules, which took him up the ladder quickly. Right since the beginning, he had noticed that the firm’s profits were extraordinarily more than what the property deals could add up to. Of course, he was quick to adjust these unaccounted for funds into the normal transactions. Over the course of two years, Manvinder became close to 2 of the 3 partners, often joining them for drinks and entertainment.He was now called Manny by everyone outside the village. The partners confided to him that they had 2 more associates, who operated out of Russia and together ,they ran a trade in Import-Export. The profits from this were hidden to save tax and that’s what the unexplained funds were.

The 2 policemen casually entered the coach, putting ‘checked’ stickers on luggage without once checking a single one. The moved about the compartment casually, flashing their smiles and stenguns to the passengers. Most passengers ignored them out of habit and continued with their newspapers/tea/cellphones. Manny tried hard to focus on the words in the newspaper as the policemen inched closer. One of them, a big fat lump of corruption, stopped near Manny’s cargo and gave it a intrigued look from top to bottom.Manny mind was oscillating furiously. He could take the policemen aside and trying to bribe his way out or abandon the cargo altogether and flee. In a cold sweat, he almost jumped from his seat. Just as he looked up again, the policeman smiled ,flashing his stained teeth smile at the cargo and continued down the aisle, without pasting the ‘checked OK’ sticker onto the cargo. Manny realized just then that he had not breathed in or out for the last 2 minutes.

His mind jogged back to 6 months ago, when he was offered a bigger pound of flesh by the 2 partners. “ run some Russian cargoes for us , from Delhi airport to Ludhiana station, and take 20% of the profit as your share” Fair enough, he had thought. The goods were usually small technical items, not illegal because of what they were but because they were undeclared to the government. Manny ran such a cargo assignement every week for six months, till he became familiar with the staff, and even the seats of Swarn Shatabdi, Delhi-Ludhiana leg.The money was coming in like never before, and it bought the little joys and healthy savings.Manny was a big man now, bigger than the traditional landlords,’zamindars’ in the village. Respect and love followed freely to him. His ambitions were bigger than ever and he had even started dreaming migration to that El Dorado of Punjabi psyche, Canada.

Then, last Sunday over scotch and soda, one of the partners, Lakhwinder Singh ‘Lucky’ had said, “ enough of the donkey work. We like the way you work Manny. I think its time we trust you with some real work. It’s a big consignment you’ll be bringing this time, and you have to be careful.” He had accepted the assignment readily,without even asking what it was.
The cocky self confidence had made his head dizzy, and his steps surer.

The feminine electronic voice announced, “blah blah LUDHIANA blah” . Manny rushed to the exit with his cargo, trampling a few feet and many egos on his way. Lucky greeted him with a broad smile at the exit, standing next to his new Lexus, black tints shining with opulence. Manny helped the cargo into the backseat, and embraced Lucky. Lucky jumped in and gunned the engine, as Manny looked on from the outside. Just as the tyres began to screech ,the rear window pulled down and Manny’s cargo waved to him.

Manny broke into a bleak smile and waved back to his cargo, ladies of the night Natscha, Gustava & Svetlana.