What You Always Wanted to Ask a Real-Life Sharpshooter

True Crime

What You Always Wanted to Ask a Real-Life Sharpshooter

Illustration: Juergen Dsouza

M

oin* was always around when I was growing up. He was the “bhai of the illaka” and we turned to him every time we smelt trouble. If the tap ran dry, we called out to him; if the car broke down, he came and repaired it. And in case of an emergency, it was always Moin to the rescue. I remember the day my grandmother suffered a paralytic stroke. Moin was the one who carried her 90-kilo frame to the ambulance. That’s a memory from 13 years ago. A year on, Moin disappeared.

Rumour had it that he had fled the country to escape from the cops, some said he was killed in a gang violence. His family left the neighbourhood and soon Moin bhai faded from our memory.  

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