Social Worker and the Bully Ch. 01

Before leaving, Mangal hugged me tight and thanked me for saving her life. Her tears moistened my kameez shoulder. As I watched her go and wave me goodbye, for the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of exhilaration about doing my job.

"You did a great job today, Manasi."

"Thank you, Anil." I smiled. "What about the husband? Can you contact the truck company, find out where he is and get him arrested?"

Anil grimaced and paused.

"I'm sorry, Manasi. I know how much this case means to you. And so I have done all that I could. But it takes a lot of resources to carry out an arrest in another state. If it were up to me, I would have made it happen. But there's a whole machinery in place that has to move to make it happen. And frankly, a guy with an otherwise clean record, and wanted only for beating his wife doesn't rank high enough in the priority list."

"I understand." I said, feeling a little sad.

"But I have made arrangements to have him arrested as soon as he gets to Mumbai. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you, Anil. I appreciate all your help."

There was a spring in my step for the next couple of days. Even my colleagues noticed it and a lot of them congratulated me as word of my extra efforts in the Mangal case spread. I got a letter from the relocation team saying that Mangal and her daughters had been put up in a small house and she had already found a job. It had no details about where she was, as per protocol, but it felt good to know that she was okay and away from her psychotic husband.

And then the following week, I got more great news.

"RAJU!! I GOT INTO STANFORD!!" I yelled as soon as he answered the phone.

"Whoa! Congratulations!!" he said in the middle of his meeting.

Stanford was my dream school, not only because it was the best social psychology department for my research interests, but also because it was in the San Francisco Bay area, where Raju's job was. In a little over eight months, I would be with my husband in San Francisco, getting a PhD at my dream school. Life could not get any better. After talking to Raju, I WhatsApp-ed all my close friends and cousins to break the news. They were delighted. And in a matter of minutes, plans had been made to celebrate this triumph. Dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by drinks at the hottest new pub in town.

"It's so foggy, yaar." one of the friends on our WhatsApp group said.

"Fuck fog! It's not every day that one of us gets into a dream university! We have to celebrate!" another friend said.

And celebrate we did. I dressed up nicely, something I rarely got to do in my day job. And my friends picked me up and whisked me away for a night of revelry. Rich foods, followed by a long sequence of toasts and tequila shots. I was happier than I had ever been. I only wished Anuj could've been there with me.

"Damn...in your colony it is...verrrrry froggy." a friend I was leaning against said.

"Froggy?" I asked and giggled. We were all quite drunk.

"Foggy...you know what I mean."

We giggled as the Uber slowed down in front of the house I was currently staying in.

"Okay Manasi...that's your stop." my friend Piyush said. "Should I door you to your drop?"

"Ha-ha...it's okay." I said. "Door me to my drop? You sound more drunk than me. I'll manage. Thank you again, guys. Love you."

"Love you too, Manasi. Congratulations. Don't forget us when you become a hot shot Stanford grad!"

I got out of the car and found my balance on the high heels with some trouble. I was drunk but not pass-out drunk. I blinked as my eyes got used to the dark outdoors. It really was foggy, even by Mumbai winter standards. From the gate, I couldn't even see the door of the house 50 feet away. I opened the gate of the house and walking with great concentration, made my way up the walkway. It seemed like a struggle to even reach the door. That's when my phone rang.

"Hi darling!" I said, slurring.

"Ha-ha, you sound so drunk." Raju said.

"Well I am drrrrrunk." I giggled.

"Congrats again, honey. You wanna skype for a bit?" he asked.

"Hmm...I'd love to, but I am really tired and drunk. I think I am gonna just get inside the house, drop on the couch, and fall asleep."

"Okay. Send me a text when you wake up and we'll talk."

"Okay, love you."

"Love you too."

I disconnected the phone and walked up to the door. Standing against the door for support, I opened my purse. It took me a while to find the keys in my purse. My head was still swimming a little from the drinks. I tried to put the key in the lock but my shaking hand kept slipping.

That's when a figure stepped forward from the fog.

"Need some help, memsaab?"

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