Project India Update

 An Ongoing WIP

Coming Soon

I hope to release this short story as an ebook by the end of August; the story is 25 pages long now.

Maxine "Max" Bernbech and her friend Kim Altland had lived together before Kim's promotion came through as editor of The Jewish Week. When the news was official, Max rented out her Barcelona apartment and moved to Haifa to be close to Kim. However, at the best of times, it was a strained relationship. 

Max was sitting at her desk writing in her journal; recalling her dreams of being with Kim. On this day she checked her files to find she had lost track of a story she had thought about the previous night. She paused to stretch and make a cup of herbal tea to wake her mind; as she got up, her phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Kim calling, "Hi, what can I do for you, Kim?" she asked. After a pause, she added, “How are you fitting in with the new crew?”

His reply surprised her, "Hello, love, I was thinking of you. I wanted a chat."

What was surprising is that since he'd taken on the paper editorship, Kim found he had little time for Max. At times, it seemed to her that she might as well leave. 

"This is unusual; I was thinking of us, too," she replied.

There was silence for a minute, then he asked, "In a pleasant way."

"Not really. I am thinking of returning to Barcelona next week."

"Why? I thought we were getting on well."

"Since you took the promotion, we hardly speak, and I’ve noticed a drastic change in your personality and writing style."

"In what way?"

"The Kim I knew would have chased the truth; all you do is toe the line. This isn't because you're the editor. You've softened, and that is painful for me to witness. I have packed and will be travelling to Tel Aviv to catch the morning flight."

"What about our plan to visit Milan?"

Max laughed, then commented, "PLEASE, that old carrot is so rotten it smells. When I mention any plan, you always say we will have the Milan trip. That comment shows how little you care for me. You hadn't noticed that I don't care if we go."

"Is there something I can do to change your mind?"

"Sorry, Kim, to coin a phrase, "That ship has sailed."

"What are your plans after that?"

Maxine smiled and replied, "I plan a trip to India; I have a friend in Mumbai who keeps asking me to visit. She wants me to visit the northern sector of the country and write a book on the forts and temples. Shazir says few writers go there as it's mainly desert."

"Are you flying via Dubai?"

"Did you say what I thought you said?"

"What's wrong with going via Dubai? It would give you two short journeys of roughly equal time?"

"That proves how out of touch you have become, Kim."

"Pardon? You lost me there."

"Let me enlighten you." Maxine paused to pour her tea, then continued. "First, a European lady is unsafe in an area where Muslim men frequent. Three years ago, four men took an Australian journalist to a room and raped her; as three men pleaded guilty, they got off. Under their laws, if the fourth man doesn't admit the crime, the lady is to blame. Another ploy is to encircle a lady in a group of 15 or more, like a pack of wild dogs, and strip and molest her. With a group threatening, anybody who could help is scared off by their numbers. Recently, a young boy of 11 in Germany got raped by a 35-year-old man who got off the charge as he told the judge he hadn't had sex for several weeks. 

Stockholm was once a beautiful city, but now it has a reputation for being the rape centre of Europe. Since the Muslims moved in, the police issue a list of no-go areas to tourists as there are areas where they are afraid to go, and nobody goes out at night because you never know what could happen. The streets of Paris are so filthy with urine, rubbish, and faeces that the Parisians are leaving. These are just a few of the atrocities that have happened recently; travel across Germany is forbidden without documentation, as all land borders have been closed. The Premier of Norway told her compatriot in Sweden if the Swedes don't control the border, she'll send the army in to stop people crossing into Norway."

Kim gasped and replied, "I didn't know that."

Max commented, "I'm not surprised. You've been isolated in England while I was crossing Europe and the Middle East chasing stories."

Silence followed as Kim thought about how to continue the conversation, then he said, "If you go, you realise you'll be sleeping rough most of the time."

Max laughed, then replied, "First, there is no if I'm going. Secondly, this shows how little you know of my work; I have slept rough on boat seats, train stations in the rain, and palliasses and charpoys most of my time as a writer. I've slept outdoors so often I can't sleep in a bed anymore; I need to sleep on the ground."

"How long have you been planning the trip?"

"At a rough guess, the last five months; the longer you delayed the trip to Milan, the less I thought we'd be going; I was right, it appears.”

"I realise this is probably a silly question, but how well do you know the area you plan to visit?"

"It isn't a silly question. I know the area well enough to know if you miss a crossing, you can end up in Pakistan in some places. The Kargil range isn't a place for the squeamish, as planes are flying over almost continually. The war may be over officially, but the camel corps still need to patrol the region as Pakistan is known for trying to sneak agents across the border as it is so far from civilization."

"Have you an idea how long you'll be away?"

"Five or six weeks, but the truth is as long as I feel capable of writing a story. I'll stay. After all, I have little to return to; my house will be there, even if I plan to sell it and 

buy a house in Mallorca."

"What about us?"

"What about us? As far as I can recall, there has been no us for at least a year. It takes you all your time to phone me once a month, and I can't see that improving as your work takes your time."

Kim paused as he thought about Max's comment. He sighed, "I'm sorry I let you feel this way, Max."

Max replied, "Don't be sad life is what it is. You wanted the job, and you got it. I would have liked to stay with you, but the way you are going is destroying your personality and drive, and you are too invested in the assignment to notice the harm it's doing."

Kim paused to reply, but he realised Max was right; he had become obsessed with his new position; it was eating his creative edge being the editor. He finally said, " I never thought being the editor would change me so radically. As a writer, I admired Abir's workload but never thought the job would be this hard. As the editor, you have to be the judge between the writers and the owners; that's no easy task,"

"You were a great writer, Kim, but you're a terrible politician, and to be an editor, you need to walk a thin line between politics and ethics. You choose what gets published and what angle you push, along with political edge, you need to reconcile your articles with the religious factions."

"I never considered those angles."

"Few writers do, Kim. Many criticise the editor without knowing how hard their job is. If I had the choice of being given a contract with a large advance and a smaller advance, I would choose the smaller advance as it is easier to pay back. Writers do have a large unseen bonus, Max."

"What's the bonus?"

"Writers get to travel, whereas being an editor is a highly paid office job, which is not your style, Kim."

"You are right; as badly as I wanted this job. I would quit tomorrow for my job as a writer. It's not only that the tasks of an editor are not suited to me. I miss the travel, the thrill of not knowing where you'll be at any given time."

"Don't forget the less than glamorous life too, Kim. We spend hours waiting in airports when we could have been doing something; the friends we made who we knew are ships passing in the night. How many are alive? When I am out there, I long for a nice warm bed, but when I get a room, I can't sleep on the bed as they are too comfortable. I don't count how many times a bad connection has left me cut off now; I take it for granted it will happen."

"Yes, I hadn't forgotten, Max; those days are etched in my memory. All those things considered, I'd drop this job if I had the chance; I'm a writer, not a politico, Max."

"I know, Kim, and that's why I think you'll be a bad editor, as you can't resist your urge to tell a story no matter what happens."

"I know I get regarded with scorn; the crew does not attempt to hide their disdain for me. They view me as an upstart, and I can't blame them. They have the qualifications and the connections. All I have is the knack for writing a great story and asking awkward questions that nobody dares to ask. Was my antipathy to you a part of your choice to go to India?"

"I won't say it wasn't, but I was planning the trip. I keep my visa up-to-date even if I never go, as I can't tell when the urge to visit India will take me. I've wished to visit the state for several years."

"How well do you know the status there?"

"If you mean the state of police protection. I know we'll be in the hands of the local Don beyond the city limits. Outside the city, there are two ways of policing. If you wish to remain true to your ideals, you put yourself and your family in the hands of the Don. If you wish to live in peace, you turn your back on the deals made to maintain the peace. Not only that, central India is in the hands of the Naxalites, a Communist group that terrorises locals to keep control of the lands. The Naxalites reject things we take for granted, such as electricity and phones; contact with the outside would increase demand for things like water supply and better food, and the Naxals would lose control. I wouldn’t worry about me going there; before I venture to a new area, I make myself aware of the political and social status of the area; that way, I prepare myself for most eventualities.”

“I have to admit, I’m impressed, but again, in some ways, you are doing what I expect you to and what I was afraid of doing when I was a writer, Max.”

“Yes, you used to ask the questions nobody would, Kim, but I got the feeling you were afraid to enter the war zones. I don’t blame you. It isn’t for all of us. We all make choices, Kim, and some have no reason. Some of my colleagues call me reckless, but I feel they are envious of me doing the jobs they can’t or won’t do. Some people tell me that I have a death wish; I tell them if I am going to die, I’d rather have a fulfilling life than a life with no thrills. I am not a thrill seeker, but if my story needs to be told, I will be there to tell it with no holds barred.”

“You are turning into a Marie Colville.”

That complements my work and devotion to telling how things are, not how people wish to view them. My style has made me enemies and loyal friends. I’ve heard my cab, so I’ll wish you well. I hope to contact you when I return.

Max placed the receiver in the cradle and said to herself, “I hope I do get back, I researched the area, but the situation is so volatile things can change even during a several-hour flight.”

Walking down the steps from her apartment, Max thought, “I could cancel the trip to Mumbai. Nobody could blame me, not least Shazir; after all, she’s been trying to convince me not to go for months. The problem is not what others would say, but could I live with myself if I backed down? I wouldn’t have to worry about living with my conscience if something went wrong.”

Again, there were so many doubts about the trip in her mind Max had trouble fighting them off the closer the date of her flight approached. “There is one thing I can do; before I go too far, I need to contact Shazir to get her views on the situation in the area.”

With time to spare, Max wrote an email to Shazir enquiring about the situation in Mumbai. Her main worries were how bad the police were and who was taking bribes to look the other way to get contracts. Max knew her articles would raise eyebrows in some regions of the establishment as people knew they took bribes, but they didn’t realise how much they had taken.

Shazir’s reply confirmed what Max thought; perhaps being wary of the issues wasn’t going to be as easy as trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. One way, or another, Max considered this mission to be not only the hardest for its possible length but by far the most dangerous she had undertaken.

Max decided to call Shazir; after dialling her number, Max had to wait a minute for Shazir to reply. “Hello, Shazir; I read your email. The situation is as bad as I imagined; we’ll have to play this close to our chests, or we could end up in prison, at 

best, or worse.”

Shazir replied, “Hello, Max. I can’t tell you how to act. You can imagine the situation is volatile at best, and at worst, it’s totally out of control. I’m sure we’ll find a way around the situation, even if it means doing what you hate and compromising your work.”

“I can cope with a little compromise, so long as the main story gets told. I am not willing to go down the same path a friend of mine has gone down, He sold out his integrity as a writer to become an editor, and he hates himself for it. He used to be a brilliant investigative journalist, but now he’s a pitiful Democrat, trying to please everyone and pleasing no one. In doing so, he hates himself now.”

“ I can see how that would be an awful situation to find yourself in; I was offered an editorial job last year, but I turned it down because as a woman in India, I have little respect, despite earning my qualifications the hard way; then having to prove I got to where I am by working hard, not selling my body.”

“I find it hard to believe, here we are in the 21st century, and you are still living by late 18th-century rules, Shazir.”

“People would not believe you if you said the caste system is as strong today, if not harder on the people than when the British left in 1947, Max. Sad, yet true, people get refused work as much for their caste as for the lack of qualifications, Many men, of our generation, still treat women as objects to own, rather than people; and the number of men who strut around as if they are gods is disgusting.”

“I can imagine how galling it is Shazir, I get that treatment from men too.”

“Not to worry, Max, we know we’re capable of doing our job as well as any man; even if the men don’t think so, that is our strength. I imagine you’ll be flying in from Amsterdam, not the connecting flight from Dubai.”

“That is correct, how did you know?”

“It wasn’t hard, I read your articles on how women got treated by Muslim youths in recent years, so, I figured you would not risk being alone in a Muslim country; even if

it means flying for an extra two hours.”

“Yes, it is despicable how ladies get treated, another thing which annoys me is how the men if I can call them men, plead the race card to escape prison. Muslims are not a race. Muslim is a religion. The same as Christians, and Jews; if they’d said they were French Muslims that is a race, I will have to love you, and leave you, Shazir. My credit is running out, and I still have to pack. See you soon.”

“I can’t wait to meet you in person, Max, bye.”

Max put the phone in her pocket, took out her top-up card, and left for the post office to add some credit to her phone. Though, she had said she was going, in the back of her mind the thought lingered was she doing the right thing by travelling to India, a land she only knew from online research, which at best was skimpy, to say the least?

The days before the flight dragged, and in the back of her mind, Max wished they’d hurry up, even though she had concerns about her trip, she thought, “The sooner I get airborne, the easier I will feel.”

The flight from Barcelona to Amsterdam went without a hitch. Max thought “What can go wrong in an hour?”

There was a two-hour wait for the linking flight to Mumbai, so Max went for a walk to the lounge, sat down to have a drink of tea, and watched the flights come and go. Sitting in the lounge, Max thought “I wonder where they’ll be going?”

To pass the time for the rest of her trip, Max visited the bookstore. Being a fan of ghost stories, and willing to read new writers, she chose a book entitled “Sea Ghosts” by the author Alan Place.

Max was so engrossed in her new purchase, she almost missed the announcement for her flight; “What a start,” she muttered, “I hope this isn’t an omen for the trip.”

By airline journeys, this was a regular trip, just over 8 ½ hours, but for Max, it was her longest time in the air. She was well-travelled across Europe, but those were only short-hop stops compared to this. The thing that never failed to amaze her was how different the light was above the clouds, as a journalist she could appreciate the difference in the light more than most of the passengers.

The plane left Amsterdam on time and with no problem. Max sitting in her window seat began to get restless, seeing this the attendant asked, “Can I get you anything, miss?”

Max smiled weakly, and replied, “Could I have a ginger tea, please?”

“Certainly, I won’t be long.”

The plane rose, and cities passed below, the people appeared as ants do to 

gardeners. Though not a religious person, Max had a weird thought as she imagined this must be how humans appear to gods, then she shook her head and blinked.

Max was brought back by the attendant asking” Are you feeling alright, miss?”

Again, Max felt embarrassed as she meekly replied, “Yes, thank you, I had a strange moment, nothing serious, yet perplexing, as I am not a religious person.” 

“That happens more often than you’d imagine with people who fly, even regular passengers get peculiar feelings, though they wouldn’t admit it. The attendants see how they attempt to hide their feelings of apprehension from other people, and we smile to ourselves,”

“Thank you for the comforting words and the tea. I stopped drinking coffee some time ago, it was giving me headaches; so, I started to drink ginger tea.”

“I have to admit, no matter how many times I have flown the sky always looks more beautiful above the clouds. If it eases your mind, this is my first trip on this route. I wasn’t scheduled for this route, but a friend needed to change her schedule, so I was happy to take the trip.”

“Doesn’t the uncertainty of the job concern you?”

“No, my partner is a ship’s steward so we meet when we meet, we enjoy our time together more as we don’t get a lot.”

As the journey took her over most of Eastern Europe and Southwest Asia, Max wondered how many of the cities she had visited in her job, and how many she had visited for her enjoyment. Then, she realised the two factors had become so interchangeable the line between them had blurred.

As she relaxed, Max had a thought, “Is this trip for pleasure, or business? I know I 

am coming here to relax, but I could use the trip as a basis for a book?”

Max fumbled in her hand luggage for the book she was reading. The story, Sea Ghosts intrigued her both as a reader and as a journalist as it was written about a real person, though the story is fiction. She had read a few pages, then a white flash caught her eye, as she turned to see where the light was coming from the plane dipped suddenly to the port throwing cups and saucers on the floor. 

In the cabin, Captain Jeff Mortimer looked down at his panel which was dead, then he said, “I know this is against the rules Hugh, but I need you to get an attendant so we can calm the passengers. The plane isn’t under my control, and we need to think about how to land the plane. 

Co-pilot Hugh Jameson knew the situation must be life-threatening as the captain wouldn’t have asked him to break protocol without a good reason. He opened the door separating the cabin from the fuselage to see the attendants picking themselves up, and trying to calm the passengers, glancing around he caught the eye of the attendant and signalled her to come to the cabin.

Hugh watched as Shiraj, the first-class attendant walked along the floor holding onto seats to stabilise herself, then he said silently, “We have an issue; we’ve lost control of the flight systems. You’ll need to tell the attendants to try to get the passengers to remain calm, I know it’s not going to be easy.”

In the passenger section, panic was beginning to set in as people realised the plane was almost in free fall, and the crew had no control over what was happening.

On the ground, the control tower officer realised what was happening, and immediately hit the red button signalling an emergency. Shamir Hadren had been trained for this, but he wished it would never happen. He ran to the cabinet holding the torches and paddles and ripped open the safety cable giving his team access to the electric paddles used to marshal aircraft.

Looking to the skies, Shamir could see several planes in the circuit, he glanced to his sides and saw five spaces for aircraft, after those were filled, he had no idea what to do.

Without thinking Shamir went into action marshalling the first plane down, all his training in flight school came back to him as if he’d left yesterday. Slowly the aircraft in the circuit began to fill the spaces, then as the last space filled up, Shamir turned to the tower and shrugged; he’d done all he could.

In the plane, the crew tried desperately to calm the passengers but there was nothing they could do. Masks and books flew around like kites as the plane dipped and tumbled, then there was a silence that was deafening; as if time stood still. Then the Tanoy chimed in, “This is the captain speaking. I apologise for what has been happening it was beyond my control, but we have resumed control of the plane, and hope to land soon.”

Shaken, the passengers disembarked slowly. Looking around, Max wondered what had happened, and why. As she walked across the foyer, she saw an elegant lady walking towards her, but she took little notice of the lady. 

After getting her balance back, she found herself taken aback when the lady said, “You must be Maxine, I am Shazir.”

Max turned to see the lady dressed in a white saree adorned with red trimmings, 

“Yes, how did you know?”

“It is easy, Max. People fly into Mumbai for various reasons. Most have a sense of direction. Those flying on view the landing schedule to find their flights, those staying here walk to the taxi ranks to get a cab, but you stood still like a rabbit in a lorry’s headlights as if you were lost. I feel I should apologise for the terrifying introduction to our country. We prayed for your safety when he saw the boards and lighting go out; then when they came back there was a voice saying the Naxalites claimed to be in control of the system.”

“I have read about the Naxalites, aren't they a radical group, close to the Communist faction in the state, trying to control the hinterland?”

Shazir looked a little shocked, then replied, “I didn’t think anyone outside of India had even heard about them, but you’re quite knowledgeable.”

Max smiled, then commented, “Thank you for the compliment, unlike some journalists, I try to keep up with news from outside my country. I cannot say when I’d be sent on a mission to another country, so it pays to keep a finger on the subject of Foreign Affairs. Can I ask a question, please?”

Shazir smiled, then said, “Please, feel free.”

“I noticed, most ladies wear the Saree over their left shoulder, is this a religious concept?”

“No, the reason is far more mundane than religion, Max. Most women are right-handed, so it is easier to wear the saree over the left shoulder, thereby keeping the right hand free to work with. I have to say we were worried about the planes coming in when we saw the flight boards go dark.”

“It was scary in the air; I wish we could thank not only the flight crews but the ground crew who got us down and landed safely. I realise they trained for such events, but that is a different scenario from knowing lives are at stake. No one could be blamed for freezing with nerves for not doing what they are trained for.”

“I’m sure, they’ll get a message of thanks from both the aircrews and the people in charge of the operations, Max.”

“I realise you probably can’t answer my next question, but you may have an answer that could go some way to being the answer. Why do you think it was only a short burst?”

“I can’t give the answer, but you’re right, I do have a theory. My theory is the burst used so much energy it can only be used for a short time, as it takes too long to recharge. On this note, there are reports from all over the state of large amounts of heavy-duty cabling being sold, and shipped to Hyderabad.”

“Why Hyderabad, and not Delhi or Mumbai?”

“I can only think that Hyderabad is central India, and in direct line with Jaipur, which could be where they are launching the attacks from. I’ve asked you several times to visit, why choose now?”

“Kim and I broke up last week. I needed to get out of Europe for a break. I had been planning the trip for months, it was getting the timing right that was the problem.”

“I’m sorry to hear of the break-up, how are you coping?”

“Thanks, I could see it coming since he got his promotion, so I was prepared. Not only has he changed, to the worse as a writer, which is painful for me to witness. What is worse, he’s changed as a person too. He never realised, the promised trip to Milan meant nothing to me for years. I felt insulted that when I asked to spend time with him, he’d make an excuse, then tell me he’d make room in his schedule for our “proposed” trip to Milan. A trip I knew he had no intention of taking. If I thought he had another lady I wouldn’t care, I’d feel pity for her. Once, I did care for him, looking back, I don’t think he cared for me.”

“I don’t think that is the case, Max, there was a time when he did care a lot for you. Enough talk of what was, let’s discuss our plans.”

“I’m good with that, Shazir. What do you have in mind?”

Shazir thought for a minute, then said, “I was thinking we could visit the Madh fort today, it is a short ride from here, and the trip will give you time to get over your flight, and provide you with a quick insight into the history of Mumbai.”

Max smiled, and replied, “I’m good with the idea, Shazir. I do need time to get used to life here, and the flight has tired me out. I was wondering why there appeared to be hundreds of galleons blocking the harbour?”

“I was wondering, when you might raise that point, Max. There was a pamphlet called “Betaal” which was released last week which explained how a group of civil engineers have released a plague of zombies on the coast.”

“Zombies, are you being serious, Shazir?”

“Max, in this country, there are many things which we don’t accept, or understand, but zombies from the past is a concept our religion taught is a thing to recognise. I can understand why you can’t accept this idea. Your history in Europe is shorter than ours, but you to have areas that people do not accept. Vlad Dracula, and the Countess from Hungary who are thought to have drunk human blood are concepts Europeans find hard to live with. It is only recently, you have come to consider there

maybe a medical reason for their activities, but it has taken centuries to reach this discovery.”

“Yes, we have a lot of things to learn, and with the world of science advancing so quick, it can be hard to keep track of what is fiction, what is fact, and what can be seen as superstition. I try to keep up with foreign affairs, but countries change names so fast it is almost impossible to know who is running the country you plan to visit.”

“People don’t consider that though Hindu is the most-spoken language in India, there over a dozen regional dialects. This is why some actors, and actresses struggle to get films, they make the choice to only have films in their dialect which limits the movie’s saleability.”

“I can see the difficulty; it is not so prevalent in Europe. Some countries do have strong regional accents which people from outside the area cannot understand, not to mention words mean different things to different areas. Back to our project, do you have a rough idea how many forts crisscross India?”

Shazir thought for a moment then replied, “I’d hazard a guess at around 100.”

Max smiled, the commented, “My research realm me the total is closer to 750.”

“WOW! That is a lot. You may have a life-long quest if you wish to write about even a quarter of those forts.”

“A quest, I would gladly accept, if only for the pleasures of visiting a country with such a rich history.”

“Do you have a favourite?”

“Yes, the Red Fort, in Agra.”

“I’m not surprised. After the Taj Mahal, it is probably the most well-known building in the country. The sad thing is with the unusually high monsoon rains this year, there is a great danger the Taj will get damaged, the Tomb of I'timād-ud-Daulah, known as Baby Taj is already underwater. We haven’t had rains like this since I was about 12.”

“It won’t help that the ground is baked hard; the water which could  have seeped now urns into gushing floods.”

“There’s been so much rain this year, some of the fishing communities, like Madh, have been washed away. Generations of fishing has been lost to the raging seas. We can see the fort from the outside, but to see more we’d need permission from the Indian Air Force; from what I heard it isn’t worth the trouble you’d have go through. Friends who visited last year, said it is like a bomb hit it; everything is thrown around, and nobody cares. Sad, when you consider the history, the fort was built by the Portuguese who lost it during the wars with the Maratha Empire in 1739.”

“I did contact the embassy about getting a permit to take some photos, all they could get was a permit for long-range photography. I can understand, technically you’re at war with Pakistan, mainly because they won’t stop infiltrating.”

“Yes, they never stop hoping to turn world opinion, as long as we stay in our state, we are defending the country; if we cross the Kargil range, the matter changes and we become the aggressors.”

“I read the fort has been used in several films, is that true?”

“Yes, you wouldn’t believe how many films and TV shows have used the area, Max.”

“Do they still have permission, Shazir?”

“Yes, the show, The Kapil Sharma show has used the site for several years now, and is as popular as ever. Along with Tea with Karan, it is the show to be noticed on if you wish to progress.”