The Eyes Have It

A doppelganger makes a song and dance of sleuthing

Vir felt a moment of apprehension before the limo door opened to a crowd of fans, bouncers, and camera flashes because he knew he was an imposter. His fellow passenger, a prominent Sheikh of Dubai, gave him a reassuring smile, framed by the keffiyeh. Vir took a deep breath and stepped out of the car and was blinded by flashing cameras, reminding him of blazing guns.

***

“He does have an uncanny resemblance.” Said the Chief to his deputy who sat across from him. The desk between them was clean save for the office stationery and the Indian tricolour. He had a resume pinned down with his left hand.

“He sure does, Sir, but we must do something about his eyes. Wrong colour … and his voice … too high pitched.”

“Hmm. I leave those details to you. Does he have a clue about what he’s getting into?”

“Not really.”

“Good! Bring in the poor newcomer and let’s begin.”

“Right away, Sir!” The deputy smiled at the remark and stood up. He opened the door to the cabin and called: “Vir Singh, come!” 

A man of average height and built, entered the room. He made an effort to stand erect and salute the chief who waved it away.

“Sit down, Agent Vir Singh.”

Vir dragged a chair from the far corner of the room to the desk and sat down.

“I’ll get straight to the point as we don’t have much time.” The Chief said in a tone that could not be interrupted, “The underworld Don, known as ‘Mulla’, is hosting a grand birthday party in Dubai and we want you to impersonate Rahul Kapur there.”

“Rahul Kapur! That Bollywood Star-” Vir tried to interject but was ignored.

“We have less than a month, so your initiation starts the moment you walk out of this room!” 

With that, the Chief motioned the other two men in the room to leave.

***

The entrance to the grand hall of the glitzy event venue was like one to a mediaeval castle but Vir saw it more like a lion’s den; the lion being the Don himself. He nodded at the gatekeeper and stared at the ornate ceiling in awe.

Fame can be intoxicating, thought Vir, waving to the crowd with both hands in the air. He made his way to the stage where the supporting dancers stood in their respective poses, ready to follow the star’s cue. Chants of ‘RK! RK! RK!’ added to the inebriety. 

With feverish apprehension, Vir took his spot on the stage. Trying not to fumble, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of Sunnies and wore them across his eyes with flourish. Then, he struck a signature pose of the famous star and the crowd erupted again.

“Readyyyy?” He announced, mimicking Rahul Kapur’s voice as best as he could.

***

“Let’s do the walk again,” The deputy ordered Vir after a week’s worth of training, “And remember to walk slowly, with purpose. You are, after all, the biggest Bollywood star and you’re in no hurry to reach anywhere or oblige anyone. You have to wear the class!”

Vir nodded from the far wall of the room and began a swagger. As he neared the deputy officer, he noticed the latter’s smile and knew he had nailed it.

“Good, good! Now, your contact lenses matching RK’s-”

“Won’t I be wearing dark glasses?”

“Yes, you will and they are key to our operation.” The deputy said, “However, you may be asked to take them off, say, for a security check.”

“Ah, got it Sir!”

“Now, the most important part: the Sheikh who will escort you is an insider to the Don’s activities but also works for Indian intelligence-”

“A double agent Sir?”

“No. Officially, we have no record of him. If he’s caught or worse, terminated, we take no notice or responsibility.”

“But what about Rahul Kapur? What if he turns up at the venue too?”

The deputy laughed. “We have his trust. A call from the Home Minister himself and he was more than willing to help.”

“Understood Sir!”

***

Vir was no stranger to Bollywood dance moves, having watched all of RK’s films several times over. His performance was almost flawless with the lighting effects and the pyrotechnics masking the quirks. When the final crescendo died, the eager crowd cheered, rising to their feet. Even as he waved to the fans, Vir was intrigued how easily he had managed to infiltrate the elite club. The Don himself was clapping with his arms raised high above the head. He was flanked by machine-gun toting sidekicks who were the only attendees not cheering, or drooling at Vir, but glancing all around the room for any threat to their leader.

As if on cue, there was hushed activity at the door and the sight of the newcomer made Vir gasp.

***

The lunch was simple but for Vir it was the “Last Supper” before his flight to Dubai. However, there was another poser on his mind.

“Sir, what is so special about this operation?”

The deputy stared at Vir for a while and then said: “Mulla is expected to meet a terrorist who tops the list for India. Once we have evidence, we have a case for Mulla’s extradition to India!”

***

The terrorist, known simply as ‘Imam’ walked up to Mulla and embraced him spontaneously. Then, each held the other by the shoulders and conversed. Vir could not hear much over the din when he remembered his glasses. He tapped the frame on the right side. A screen lit up on the inside and zoomed on to the two men under observation; their voices crystal clear. He tapped on the frame on the left and the streaming commenced.

***

“Your initiation is complete, Agent Vir Singh,” The Chief’s deputy declared, “Remember to start streaming at the rendezvous so we can record the live stream here. Who knows, with your good fortune, you may be able to watch it again, if you return … alive!”