“Oiyee Unni, new dress, clean shave. Where to?” shouted Nair from his shop. He sold groceries and kept up conversation with passer by. This helped his business. Informal talks cemented the bond to formal advantage; this he staunchly held. Further, more than anything else it satiated his primal desire of poking into other’s life. Life for him was knowing (and letting others know) everyone’s joys and miseries. The later in abundance in this small town with unemployment, wife beatings, property disputes and impending suicides. Happiness if ever came, came in the form of marriages, child births and temple festivals. These too under suspicion of lurking disaster. Time was punctuated with hopelessness and fatalism. Nair therefore was shocked, by chance any good news crept his way which had no above mentioned reasons. Stooping bodies and down cast eyes was what he reveled in. Never missing a chance to poke and prod (occasionally provoking) in his usual toothy and what people agreed mutually ‘his good-natured way’.
Unni peeped from corner of his eyes, through shoulder, before looking straight and fastening his pace, ignoring Nair.
“Unni eda, I know you heard me. Go. Go I will catch you later” Nair said pendulating his head and wrapping stacked papadams in old newspaper. Thrusting it into the watching wrinkled thin hand.
“Keto Jannamme, this Unni has got no job yet. A graduate. Commerce Graduate. It’s four years now. And me SSLC fail having good life. It’s because of my previous Karma. Karma phalam”. He made a face of a person deeply in thought and then stopped to give a broad grin before adding. “That will be five rupees”.
“I know I know. It’s difficult to get job now days. My eldest son Soman got a job of peon after six years and spending so much money”. Here she lowered her voice, acquired a conspiratorial tone, coming nearer she said
“It was Damodaran MLA, who helped, he took his cut too”.
Then back to her normal self “But any way we got the money back, as his dowry”.
She stopped to take breath. Nair saw the opportunity and he never missed one.
“That will be five rupees thalle “he said raising his voice. ‘Thalle’ a derogatory slip from ‘Amme’.
“Ho. Ho. I am giving. Not running away. Ho…..” she said matching his voice. She didn’t seem to mind the slip as she was used to this from Nair. Then closing in again to him she said
“My dear Nair……my younger son Chandu is still unemployed. Did you hear ? … that Chacko saar has bought a new bus. His wife comes here very often. Will you tell her to give Chandu a job? The cleaner’s job will do. You know, he is a graduate. B.A. He already has clerk’s job in health department but they say the actual selection will take atleast five years. Why it’s like that Nair? Then why does the government select them”? She paused. The last two sentences were spoken tenderly but carried enough energy to be rhetoric. Her eye’s sparkled through the crow feet skin. She now seem to look beyond Nair and his shop.
Nair struggled out of his momentary silence. He was not impressed by what he later described to passer by as her “senile theatrics”. After all he only poked and prodded people for wry satisfaction from his routine drudgery. His relation with everyone was to the extent of serving his purpose: Business and mundane. He dismissed the sticky customer, albeit not breaking the link forever, after all there are not many customers in this small town. With that Vasu opening new shop, things have not been same. Customers could not be dismissed hastily. So he added few saccharine coated words in winding up tone.
“Let’s see what can be done. You keep coming. God will show us a way”. Then he turned as if to write something on the ledger book.
Unni found a bench in the park. He buried his lead into his palms. He did not know how long he had been like this, when he was startled by a strong grip on his shoulders. His eye’s smarted under the burning sun. He was sitting under its direct glare, he wondered, still oblivious of it. It must have been too long. His back ached.
“So partner. Sun bathing. Hmm… they do that in America “ The voice gave a full throated laugh. It was Solomon. He did odd jobs. Sometimes he could be seen driving a taxi or a rickshaw, once even a bus or mostly he would be selling lottery tickets. He was regular at the beach flirting with fisher women.
“You guessed it. Yeah, I have not been to Ammaarrica. Saw it on TV man” he said masticating America with every part of his dentures and vocal chord. He pushed Unni with his heavily build arms.
“Hey wake up dream boy. Let’s go to the beach and admire thunder thighs. Ooh man. Come. Come get up”. Now he was pulling.
Unni shrugged in vain. He was literally dragged to the beach. He walked still heavy with sleep. His body ached. Shirt wet with sweat.
They sat under the shades of coconut fronds. Solomon broke a long leaf hanging towards them. Tore the leaf off its midrib. It was lush green and gave a pungent smell. He loved that fresh juicy smell.
“It smell like woman’s flesh, man”. He said that, as always. Unni pretended not to have listened.
“Ooh man aah man”. He whined, then sneezed.
Now he would sit there smelling the twig, crushing it further and further, till it was pulpy. While he kept Unni’s attention speaking, inanities, making it interesting. Ranging from anatomical detail of women’s body to the working of a carburetor.
Unni nodded, when looked for reaction. Intercepted with occasional “yes” or “true” when he thought the monotonous nods dangerously neared indecency. The waves shimmered in the sun, blinding the eye with its ferocity, turning red and then dark as the sun slipped precariously into western horizon.
Yesterday Gopalan uncle, Unni’s father’s younger brother had come from Delhi. He worked with the finance ministry as UDC. He gave him a new half sleeve shirt. Light green with black strips. Though Unni preferred blue, he accepted it with all gratefulness. That would raise his collection of shirts to three. One for wearing out daily. One for attending important functions like marriages or housewarmings. The new one he decided for attending interviews for jobs he had been applying. Today he had tried out the new shirt. He couldn’t help wearing it out of excitement. But it was now dirtied with sweat and beach sand. He tried straightening the creases by pressing it against his open palm and body. It didn’t work. What Achan is going to say to this? He felt his mouth dry. Achan, Unni’s father, retired from local corporative bank as a cashier. It was his dream to make his son a cashier too but in a government bank. Unni as a filial obligation had been trying to fulfill this for last four years now. Recently though, realizing his son’s continuous fiasco’s and mounting travesties of time, the quest for cashier’s job though not entirely abandoned was widened and lowered. To the extent that in desperation it is now reduced to any – job – would – do. And Unni let himself carried away in this game of fate.
Unni tried to sneak in as silently as he could.
“Where you have been?” thundered his father, who stretching on bamboo mat next to the door, startling the life out of Unni. He took time to regain himself.
“Why don’t you speak you fool?” irritated he persisted. He was becoming increasingly cantankerous, recently.
“Just near by …..friend” uttered Unni and carried himself into their two room house. He could feel the glaring eyes behind him. But he was tired or was it laziness? With blurred senses he slumped onto his bed. The thick coir of the mat stung through the sheet. He had already slipped into sleep.
The next day before he crossed Nair’s shop, he slowed down. Nair was reading a magazine but was facing the track, as usual. Unni knew from experience that this time of the day his shadow could reach Nair and he would be intercepted. Since no customers were around, he had no option but to stop and bare himself to his barbed talks. So he waited behind the low branches of cashew tree. Minutes passed nobody in sight. A red ant with huge belly climbed on his toe and thrust her mandibles into his flesh. A pair hit like lightning through his body. He mashed the ant with his fingers. In dealing with the immediacy of threat around, he missed to see an obese figure approaching he shop. Not only that, it seemed that the gigantic man was concluding the buy. Yes, he was giving the money. I must hurry, thought Unni. And he scampered through the passage with a demeanor of a person in a hurry. Nair turned from his table to give the change and caught sight of Unni rushing out from the far corner of his sight.
“Eda. Eda where to? Come here…Come here” He shouted ignoring the customer, infact pushing him a side.
“Oho….minister going for tour. International tour…..getting late for the flight. Ha…Ha” He laughed loudly shifting his focus on to the customer, who had a blank face with sneer creeping in.
Unni walked through the main bazaar. There were colorful toys hanging, bat and ball, tennis racket, yellow colored train all in plastic. He asked for the price of a pink painted doll.
“Hey you go away. I know you…. Always roaming around. Who will give his daughter to useless like you? Then only you will have children to give toys…. Now go away ….. wastrel”. He shooed him away. His comments were unwanted. Unni pretended not to have heard and walked away trying not to attract much attention. An electronic shop had colour television switched only, showing some glimpses of movie. Unni stood there on the pavement. He liked colour television with its surrealistic bright colours. A man was singing song and running after a woman first around a tree and then on a beach. Finally they embrace each other. Here a new song started. Unni simpered, he had never even touched a girl and thought of embrace embarrassed him.
Last month when the neighborhood girl whom he secretly admired and exchanged glances, had come to his home to get a magazine from his mother, he had opened the door and talked to her. After that he was severely reprimanded by his mother. “You dare not talk to any girl around here. No job, nothing. What a curse…. When God wills he will get you married. Till then do not create a trouble for us”. She said in a scream. That was the end of this romantic rendezvous.
“Watching Television aha. Tell your old man to buy a TV”… it was Solomon.
“No spending money in theatre…. free show man… no tickets” he added.
“Hey man. Let’s go to the beach and watch thunder thighs…come”. Again he was dragged.
“Have you ever loved a girl?” asked Solomon smelling the mashed leaf with a distant look, a rare glimpse of love struck Solomon, thought an amused Unni.
“Answer… you ever loved a girl?” He stared him on the face.
Unni smiled and turned his face into the distant horizon of the blue stretch. A cloud was forming and stood like a mountain in the mist. It will rain tonight.
“Hey man. I will take you to a babe…She is cool. You have some money with you…Never mind….I got a lot of money today …. anything for a friend” said Solomon with a grin.
“Come with me…come” Solomon was readying to getup.
“Where”? asked Unni.
“To the girl off course” said Solomon with a wink.
“Not me” said Unni.
Solomon gaped at him with wondrous eyes before slumping down. “Hey man. Don’t mean me wrong I am just trying to help you out. It’s perfectly normal. You from conservative family…so no talking to girls…this nobody will know…guarantee”. He said with a touch of conspiratorial vigor.
“No, I am fine here” said Unni morosely.
Agitated by now Solomon fiddled with his fingers.
“Tell me is there anyone who really loves you….? No. Everybody wants you if you love money and job. Love comes with money. Nobody will call you wastrel if you have money. Money will give you respect. So there… Here I am your friend… always with you. And today partner, I will buy love for you” said Solomon in an unusually heavy voice that didn’t sound like him.
A bevy of cranes flew across, etching white patches on blue sky. Few boats bobbed in tiny black crescents. Unni thought about what Solomon had just said. True. He was putting his miseries into words.
“Come…..” His words lingered.
Unni felt the soft white sand. Took a fistful and let it sieve through his fingers. A cluster of hyacinths winked away in amorous leisure.
“You just come, don’t do anything. Just see” Solomon made a last attempt.
“Alright” said Unni. He felt the words, coming out on its own, out of his open mouth. He didn’t move.
Solomon got up with a newfound enthusiasm.
“Come on man, yeah that’s the spirit” he extended his hand towards Unni. Unni didn’t move. He was astounded that he uttered “alright”. It must be somebody else, he thought and looked around. Far away, few bare bodies’ children played in the sun. The white sand it seemed mirrored their dark bodies. The shadows replayed the game.
“Alright…Alright” echoing in his mind. He then heard “Alright Solomon lets go then. How far is it?”
And found himself walking towards the dirty alley behind the umbrella mart. Next he was ogling at a nubile girl in silk sari. She was the most beautiful girl he thought he had ever seen. Delicate features, Jasmine strapped in long black hair with tempting red lip. Her eye fluttered like butterflies. He was broken out of the trance by a male voice.
“Its two hundred for an hour, not less…” said the bespectacled pimp. He had a sacred sandal paste on his forehead. He wore a clean striped while shirt and black trousers, with matching shoes. If he had seen him anywhere else, he would have easily passed off as a business executive. Even as he was haggling with Solomon, Unni couldn’t help thinking it as a terrible mistake of identity. This respectable looking man could possibly be anything, but a pimp! He had seen in movies, the pimps as slimy looking toad faced men with sly eyes and pencil thin moustache, almost always a red kerchief around their neck, sometimes a slanting golf cap with prurient eyes. Nothing had prepared him for this.
“I am not ready to sell my product for loss. The overhead expense is too much for me to handle. You know how much I have to give to the police. Huh…Take it or leave it”. He had a scowl on his face. His fingers played on the buttons of mobile phone. Unni was taken in by all this, it sounded like high pitch management talk. For a moment he thought they were in an electronic shop discussing latest gadgets. He admired his refined mien. But next moment he was inexplicably saddened. His eyes wandered on to the surroundings. There were figures of Hindu gods and goddesses, on one side were inscription from Koran with green tinted mosque. On the far end corner hung a Cross. The wall seemed to be a confluence point of all religions. Was it that they desperately needed the blessing (protection?) of God or is it just a canny tactics to siphon the religious mawkishness? Unni reminisced what his grandmother once said, years back much before she died. She wound up her story telling each night with a quote of wisdom from some ancient Hindu scripture. It had been raining continuously for last few days. The monsoon was in its full vigour. On that night, as he lay curled on her lap looking into the curtain of darkness. The rain spraying through the flapping windows.
“When you desperately need God, religion vanishes” she said, running her hand through his hair.
“And, valliammachi, where is God?” he asked his voice lost in the Pattering of rain.
She cuddled him up and said “That you will know when you grow up and now its time to sleep”.
Next he found himself being led into a cavernous room. There were posters of women in various stages of nudity splashed on the wall. The room was dimly lit with closed windows, no ventilation.
He felt her warm breath. He could see that she was naked and fragrance of jasmine. The bed creaked as she lay on it, few rats scurried in the dark corner.
“Do you have condoms?” Her voice was shockingly coarse.
“No….” He barely said infact he never thought about it.
“Never mind….come on now…what you thinking… get on with it”. She spoke no more and stretched herself on the tub of a bed.
He looked into his wrist watch with sleepy eyes. It was nearly an hour. He adjusted his eye to the surroundings. The wall plaster was peeling off at many places. On the top corner it was wet with yellowy moulds. Broken mirror hung near the bed with a comb and a powder tin. The place had all the trappings of destitution.
The girl lay comfortably inured to the surrounding. Sweaty stench filled the air. Her face wrinkled with parched thin lips. Wound marks on forehead. A closer look and her hairs were graying, scabby fingers with cheap red nail polish. She was a pitiable sight. Far from a beauty he earlier saw, she looked appallingly sick.
He got up with a start. Dressing on the way, as he scuttled out.
Her eyes were open. In it her two children and old parents. She felt fatigued all over body. Her bones ached.
The doctors had said “You are HIV positive. This means you have AIDS”.
“What’s that doctor”? She asked impassively.
“It means you will de soon. Anyway what is the use of immoral woman like you living? You should be beaten up and jail… you scum. Let me call the police. They know where to keep woman like you”.
His hand reached the phone. She trembled and ran out. “Boy. Boy. See that she doesn’t escape. Catch her boy. She has gone mad. She is mad, boy. Catch her”.
She ran and ran. Never looked back.
Unni reached his room. Washed himself dry. Put on his interview dress. The new green striped shirt and new white socks. Powdered his face parted is oiled hair from one side looked himself in the mirror. He looked smart.
“Yes Sir, my name is Unnikrishnan K. B.Com. First class sir. Yes Sir. I know Computer. My hobbies are sketching and watching TV Sir. Yes Sir. No Sir ? Thank you sir. Good bye sir. “He laughed loudly at the absurdity of it all.
The moon was half hidden through his window sill, as he lay down. Toads gave mating calls from the nearly pond. Coconut trees swayed in the moon lit splendor. He closed his eyes. It was time for grand mother’s story. A smile ran through his lips. He felt immensely light.
(the title inspired from a short story by Beckett)
