Chapter 29: Race, Riot, Revolution
May 6, 2009 — 8:30 PM — The Warehouse, Okhla
The air inside the warehouse was electric.
Hundreds of players clutched their phones, rickshaw avatars lined up at the start lines.
The giant screen projected a countdown timer overhead:
00:01:30 — till the first round.
Outside, the humid Delhi night pulsed with tension.
Motorcycles rumbled in the distance.
Dogs barked restlessly.
Farhan pressed his walkie-talkie to his mouth.
"Security check. Any movement?"
Static crackled.
A voice replied:
"Perimeter clear for now."
Shiva exhaled, steady and calm.
He turned to the players.
"Remember," he said, voice booming over a cracked megaphone,
"Top 50 advance. Ride hard, ride dirty. No mercy."
The crowd screamed in approval.
> "LET'S GO!!!"
And then the race began.
---
8:45 PM — Round 1: Mayhem
The noise was deafening:
Metal chairs scraping.
Players slamming fingers against screens.
Shouts of victory, curses of defeat.
On the projected leaderboard:
Megha surged to the top with an unbelievable combo drift.
Pranay smashed through obstacles like a madman.
A dark horse — a first-year from DDU College — stunned everyone with insane speed hacks.
Meanwhile, cash bets exchanged hands faster than at a Vegas casino.
The warehouse was a storm of sweat, adrenaline, and chaos.
---
9:00 PM — Trouble on the Horizon
Outside, two battered police jeeps rolled slowly down the industrial road.
Headlights off.
Engines low.
Inside the lead jeep, Sub-Inspector S.K. Rana chewed a beedi furiously.
"Unauthorized assembly," he muttered to his partner.
"Illegal betting. Copyright violation. We bag 'em all, beat the organizers black and blue, and call it a night."
They didn't realize they were walking into something much bigger.
---
9:10 PM — Shiva Gets the Intel
One of Farhan's security guys — a college dropout nicknamed Baba — sprinted across the warehouse.
Breathless, he whispered into Shiva's ear:
> "Two jeeps. Cops. Half a kilometer away."
Instantly, Shiva's mind snapped into overdrive.
He looked around:
270 kids.
₹50,000 cash hidden in backpacks.
No official permits.
A camera crew secretly filming everything.
One raid would destroy everything.
> "Not tonight," Shiva thought. "Not when we're this close."
---
9:12 PM — Operation Shield
Shiva grabbed Farhan and Riya.
Quick orders:
"Split the players into four groups.
Pretend it's a private college party — dance, sing, whatever.
Hide the phones.
Hide the cash.
If cops ask questions, nobody knows me."
Farhan barked into the walkie-talkie:
> "CODE YELLOW! CODE YELLOW!"
Instantly:
The big screen shut off.
Players shoved phones into socks, bras, bags.
Loud Punjabi music blasted from speakers.
A fake birthday cake was shoved onto a plastic table.
By the time the cops pushed open the rusted warehouse doors, it looked like the weirdest, sweatiest birthday party in Delhi history.
---
9:15 PM — The Raid
S.I. Rana stormed in, nostrils flaring.
Behind him, half a dozen constables looked ready to crack skulls.
He barked:
"WHO IS IN CHARGE?"
Dead silence.
Hundreds of kids stared back, blinking innocently.
Finally, Riya — cool as ice — stepped forward.
"I organized it, sir," she said sweetly.
"My birthday party. North Campus friends only."
S.I. Rana narrowed his eyes.
"Where are the illegal games?"
Riya shrugged.
"Sir... we're students. Broke ones. Can't even afford PlayStations."
The constables began shoving through the crowd, searching for evidence.
They found nothing.
No phones in sight.
No cash floating around.
No visible signs of Rickshaw Rush.
Just loud music, dancing students, and a sad plastic cake.
S.I. Rana growled.
> "I KNOW SOMETHING'S FISHY HERE."
"YOU THINK I'M STUPID?"
Shiva, blending into the crowd in a black hoodie, didn't flinch.
If Rana couldn't catch them in the act, legally he couldn't arrest anyone.
> "Just a party," Riya repeated sweetly.
"Want some cake, sir?"
The crowd snickered.
The inspector's face turned crimson.
He waved his hand in disgust.
"SHUT THIS DOWN. NOW."
And just like that —
the police backed out.
Empty-handed.
---
9:30 PM — The Aftermath
The moment the jeeps disappeared down the road, a deafening cheer erupted.
Kids hugged each other.
Sang.
Chanted Shiva's name even though half of them had never seen his face.
He grinned from the shadows.
Farhan smacked him on the back.
"Bro, you're a legend."
Riya handed him a piece of the fake cake.
"You just made history," she said.
---
10:00 PM — The True Finals
The tournament resumed, but quieter.
Phones hidden behind tables.
No big screens.
No screaming crowds.
Just raw, fierce, silent competition.
And when the final race ended — at 2:00 AM —
the top three players were crowned:
Megha (Queen of the Rush)
DDU Dark Horse (Runner-up)
Pranay (Third Place)
Trophies?
Nope.
Just handshakes, cash, and eternal street respect.
---
May 7, 2009 — Morning
By sunrise, the warehouse was empty.
Just a few crushed cans, a broken chair, and a scrawled message on the wall:
> "WE RIDE. WE RUSH. WE RULE.
RICKSHAW RUSH FOREVER."
The Delhi Rickshaw Championship wasn't just a tournament anymore.
It was a legend.
And Shiva knew:
> "The war wasn't over.
It was just beginning."
---
[End of Chapter 29]