THE COMMANDO WITH THE TATTOO

Ganesh Dhangde was just six years old when he got lost. Twenty years later, his mother had a visitor

- Deven Kanal

JUST BEFORE NOON, as six-year-old Ganesh Dhangde got ready for school one day—it was the early 1990s— his mother Manda cradled her other child, one-year-old Ramesh. Her husband, a construction worker, had died recently and Manda’s income as a domestic help in several nearby middle-class homes in the town of Thane, just outside of Mumbai, was the family’s sole means of livelihood. Ganesh walked down the Mama-Bhanje hillock on which their home stood in a shantytown amid innumerable similar dwellings. On his way, Ganesh was joined by Kharavi, his second-standard classmate. The kids soon ran into a teenager who Kharavi knew. 

“Where to?” the older boy asked. “School,” Kharavi replied. “Come with me. Let’s do some sight seeing,” said the teenager. “We’ll be back by evening.”

“Let’s go,” Ganesh said trustingly, excited at the thought of playing truant for a change.

They soon reached the nearby Thane railway station and took a commuter train, alighting at a station after a while.

“Wait here,” the teenager told Ganesh, pointing to a bench. “We’ll go get something to eat.” When the two didn’t return for a long time, Ganesh nervously searched the station. He wandered outside, looked in the street and returned to the bench. He wanted to ask for help, but was too scared of strangers. Just then, a train arrived.

Maybe this will take me home, Ganesh thought, and climbed aboard. As the crowded train sped along, he stared out hoping to locate his neighbourhood. Nothing seemed familiar. Tired and hungry, Ganesh drifted off to sleep.