‘Meghana, note down my number.’ Rahim yelled, as officers were dragging him.
‘Why is he giving his contact to you?’ They suspected.
Wrong timing Rahim, ‘Mam, I’m afraid. You need to walk with us too’ I twitched my head at them, unsure what to say as I didn’t know what trouble I am signing into?
As we strolled towards terminal B1 ‘You know him? Mam?’ asked officer Shivdeep, his name card read.
I shake my head ‘I just met him, nothing else.’ Which quite surprised Shivdeep. He strongly believes that we both are together.
‘Sorry, Mam. This is a matter of public safety; we cannot take chances. You have to come with us’
‘I didn’t say, no.’ I affirmed.
In fact, I’m curious to know, what’s this all about? We stepped into a muzzled room with a cream coated table well-furnished; nothing like our local Police stations. Much tidier and spacious. Pair of handcuffs, some documents and warm cup of coffee lying on the table; waiting for some senior officer. This looks like one of the interrogation rooms from Hollywood movies. The top right quarter was occupied by a large map of the India, dotted with a forest of flags. There was note sticked onto a whiteboard “RUNISIA?” written over it and a photograph of Rahim pinned to the right.
There was only one entrance and exit to the four-faced closed damp room which had two chairs complementing the interrogators chair. The wall opposite to us had a huge mirror reflecting us back; which could be like a HD television, for the officers watching us within their cubicles on the other end. I only saw those things in movies. The silence in the room adds up to my anxiety already. We both were made to sit opposite to an empty chair. I never expected this kind of Police station to be at the Airport premises.
An officer in his twenties entered the room; All messed up; face was pale and wasn’t even in his uniform. Furling the pages of a register kind of thing. He didn’t even look at our faces yet. He slammed the register on the table and started talking to the security constable officers. He didn’t use the chair to sit comfortably rather sat on the table. Much closer to Rahim. He wasn’t looking like a regular police officers who have a big belly and round faces. He is young, muscular and confident. I could feel the intimidation one can give by their presence without even looking at you.
‘Well, exactly which group you work for?’ Officer Siraj already decided his stand on Rahim.
‘Sorry?’ Rahim is completely clueless.
Siraj got up and slammed the table with his bulky arms, every item on the table shook in motion.
‘I hate wasting time.’ Siraj, high of his decibels.
‘I don’t know? What are you talking about?’ Rahim answered nervously, I could see him shaking and sweating all over.
Siraj trying to compose himself, turned to me ‘Who are you? Why are you with him?’ He clearly didn’t know, how to behave with women.
‘Myself Meghana. I’m a fellow passenger-’ He didn’t even let me complete my sentence.
‘Why is she here?’ Siraj turned to the officers. To which they slowly informed that Rahim was providing his number to me.
‘Mam, how do you know him?’ He said mam, but I still couldn’t hear the respect.
‘I don’t know, what is happening here? Why are you interrogating us? Who is he? What did he do?’ I lost my temper too.
‘Hold it. Madam. Too many questions.’ he continued while I gasped.
‘Do you know, which country is he from?
‘Rune...’ trying to remember ‘Runisia.’
‘Have you ever heard of that country before?’
‘No. But He said it is one from the Middle Eastern countries.’
Siraj smiled. ‘There is no such country called Runisia. Everything he claims is a bullshit story,’ he raged ‘This fucker is lying.’ caught Rahim by his cheeks,
‘Sorry? What are you trying to say?’ He clearly was not pleasant to have a conversation.
‘There is no country called Runisia. It’s a fake. We have enquired thoroughly.’
‘His passport and identification both belong to country Runisia.’
‘Here are they.’ He threw some documents and passport onto the table. Never in my life, I have seen this symbol on the passport nor the colour, Siraj has ample documents to prove his point. Driving licence and proof of residence were also from the country Runisia. Each and every document have similar symbols and details. They look genuine. I have seen fake passports and photoshopped documents. To my knowledge, these completely look genuine.
‘Still, to be sure, we bought a map of middle eastern countries. Asked him to mark his country,’ Pointing the map on the board to the left, circled with a yellow marker ‘Observe, the marking he made.’
He marked on Iran which was signed as sanctioned last year and also a terrorist prone country.
Examining the documents one after the other. I’m uncertain of my belief on Rahim now. I totally agree with Siraj. Even I never saw a passport like this. Although it is looking genuine. It was more like a phonebook which has genuine printed stamps of different countries. It was looking legit. But none that I saw before. I saw that he already visited Mumbai two times before and left and even has the verification stamps from this airport.
‘He is fooling us. I want to kill these fucking bastards right away.’ Siraj pulling out the gun he had hidden with him.
‘I’m just a chemical engineer, working in a company named Fenix. I hail from the city Qubit, Country Runisia.’ Said Rahim in a confident tone.
I can sense that he isn’t lying. I don’t know. But I find his words genuine and his eyes innocent. After looking at facts, I doubt my intuition.
‘What about his workplace?’ I asked.
‘There is no company called Fenix. Even that is fake.’ my doubts are replicated with every sarcastic response
