This story was written back in 2010 as an entry for the Deccan Heral Short Story Competition. Back then I was a second year medical student, and was fascinated by diseases of the mind. Now having taken up Psychiatry as a specialization, I re read it, and I must say it's quite an accurate description( save for fictional liberty).
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‘Raman, how much exactly is eight times thirteen?’, I
queried.
It was the fag end of
the day, my feet were aching and I didn’t exactly pride myself with regards to
my mathematical abilities. All I wanted was to tally the change, finish the
cursory submission work and head home.
‘One hundred and four’, rapt came the reply.
This boy had a sharp mind. Pity he didn’t put it to much use
but to place bets at the bar that he’ll shortly be heading over to; to
intoxicate himself to the point where he can’t tell one from the other
‘And that’s that.’, I sighed signing the log book , bringing
to close yet another day.
‘Good night Mistri Sir’, Raman called after me.
I nodded at him and set off towards my one room apartment,
three lanes and five cross roads across.
I wiped another bead of perspiration off my forehead as I
walked across Marina Road .
It was quite a warm night spare the salty breeze that came blowing across the
docks. It was past eleven, yet the docks were bustling with activity. From
where I stood, the far ends of the docks were visible. After some time, I
headed down on the path home to retire for the night.
I woke the following morning in typical fashion. Taking in
the sweet smell that came in from the sea each morning, I went to Velu’s Mess.
Over chai he’d tell me all the local
gossip, in which I had no particular interest. But then, whilst narrating one
of his more meatier stories he’d spare me an extra chai or the odd rusk. And this seemed to be just that occasion…
‘Listen to this hot news!’, he pronounced.
As I did habitually, I nodded. I would savour the chai and
the morning breeze while Velu would go on to psycho analyse and verbally molest
the character and reputation of every sane person it the vicinity.
‘Murder at the docks!’, I heard Velu read from this
morning’s paper.
So this wasn’t the usual gossip eh!
“A little past 12 a.m.
early this morning, West End Limits Police Station received an anonymous call
informing them about a suspected murder of an old man at the far end. Upon
reaching the site, the police found the victim lying unconscious in a pool of
blood. He was immediately rushed to the Government Hospital, whereupon he
succumbed to injuries. It is believed that the patient suffered a fatal blow to
the back of his head. Further inquiry has revealed that Jayaram, aged 59, worked
as a security guard at the West End Port. Having finished his shift at half
past eleven, he was on his way home when the incident occurred. Investigations
are on and the police are unclear with regards to both the motive and the
culprit. This incident follows in the wake of two other similar murders in the
above mentioned area, the most recent being…”
‘Ratnamma!’, Velu recalled from memory .
He was of course referring to the boisterous fisherwoman who
met her end a fortnight ago. Well, she was quite old and her fish off late had
been as dead as the shells I used to pick off the beach as a kid, yet it was
quite a brutal end.
The woman though, I must add, was feisty! I doubt that there
was single living soul in this city with whom she hadn’t haggled!
Wasn’t it only a week or so before she died that she and Velu
had had a face off.
Velu had ticked her off for serving up yet another batch of
stale fish. They had stood arguing and exchanging insults. Velu was a mammoth
of a man, but Ratnamma‘s battery of
verbal volleys were more than a match for him.
Meanwhile, having drained the last sip of my second cup of
chai, I stood up to leave. I was on my way out, when Velu called out after me,
‘Mistri sir, be on your guard! You never know who it’ll be
next!’
………………******……………..*******……………….
It was after I’d bathed and stood offering my morning
prayers that I noticed someone approaching my apartment. It was that pest of a
landlord, I realized, Raja. He had once been a jawaan in the army, but at
present lived life in tatters. He had fallen wayward, his family having wisely
abandoned him a while ago, his main concern now was as to where his next ‘quarter’ would come from.
A couple of loud raps on the front door announced to me, his
unwelcome arrival.
‘What is it Rajanna?’, I asked.
‘I have decided to increase the rent from this month. It’s
going to be seven hundred and fifty now!’, he stated.
The stench of putrefied alcohol mingled with beedi smoke was intolerable.
‘What! This isn’t done. How could you?’, I protested.
‘Nothing doing!’, he proclaimed and before I could utter a
word, he slammed the door on my face and stumbled down the stairs.
That thieving scoundrel! I cursed him.
Seven hundred and fifty rupees for this rat hole? Preposterous!
Had I the means, I wouldn’t be living in this neighbourhood
which in fact was more akin to a sewer, resplendent with cons, crooks and criminals.
Now I would have to ask Leela for some money. I sadly
thought.
Knowing not what else to do I headed for work. I stood waiting
for a good twenty minutes, before Raman finally arrived. Together we readied
the bus and began the day’s work. Work, as I had realized, was the only
constant in my life, and it seemed to have a calming effect on me.
As conductor of Route 315, I headed as I had for over thirty
five years, with Raman at the helm, towards West End .
It was a three hour route that cut across the city, and we did this four times
each day.
I sat down on the front seat. It would not be until at least
Rose hill that the first passenger would get in. The crowds would only come in
when we neared Town Hall. And as predicted, I settled into my usual routine of
issuing tickets, verifying bus passes, haggling with the odd passenger or two
for change and throwing the occasional miscreant out.
…………………************………………..************………………………….
It was only later that night, I remembered the cumbersome
events of earlier that day. Back at the office, I put in a call to Leela.
Luckily, she was at home.
‘Appa, how’re you? I’m so sorry I haven’t come to visit you
lately. I’ve just been too busy at the hospital!’
Goodness, this girl can go on endlessly.
‘It’s okay Leelu.’, I replied. I then went on to explain my
current financial situation and added, ‘so if it’s possible, can you kindly
lend me some money?’
‘Oh! I’ll come and see you on Sunday morning.’, she said.
The tone didn’t sound very promising.
I sighed and put the phone down.
What would I do if Leela didn’t give me the money. I had no
savings. I’d spent every paise I’d ever
earned on Shanthi’s treatment. I wasn’t even in a position to borrow from
Raman. He had loaned me two thousand rupees for Shanthi’s funeral, and I still
hadn’t cleared that debt.
Oh good God! What would I do?
I couldn’t possibly force Leela. Afterall that she’s done
for me … and for how long have I known her, only a year or so.
Leela worked as a nurse at Curzon Memorial
Hospital
She now came to visit me, sometimes, a couple of times a
month, sometimes only once.
I had grown very attached to her, the only way I sustained
my interest in this dastardly life.
It was as I walked down Marina Road , immersed in these thoughts,
that I thought I heard muffled footsteps. I turned behind …
I screamed, my weary heart was pumping like there was no
tomorrow, I gasped for air and ran, ran as fast as those two feet of mine would
carry me.
I could hear the
heavy thumping of my pursuer’s footsteps. I ran harder, soon the only sound
audible was that of my heart pumping. It was only when I reached a corner
alley, did I dare look behind. The street behind me was desolate…I stopped to
gather my wits, I barely even recognized my surroundings. I was panting, my
head was hurting, I flopped to the ground. I don’t really know how long I lay there
like that, when a voice jerked me awake, ‘Mistri what happened?’, it was Velu.
I was relieved…
A persistent grazing noise awoke me. It took me a while to
gather my bearings. I was at home in bed
Every muscle in my body tightened. The sharp pangs of fear
spread like venom through my substance. Someone was out to get me! Oh what
could I do? The flimsy door would offer absolutely no resistance if whosoever
it was tried a fraction harder.
Then, just as
suddenly it had begun, the noise stopped. The ensuing silence was eerie and
surreal. I couldn’t gather enough courage to open the door and investigate.
Finally, after a prolonged period of contemplation , I
approached the window by the stairs. Holding the window ajar, I looked out into
the now rather still night. It was pitch dark, the moon probably hidden behind
the black clouds. Whoever had been at my door earlier, had disappeared into the
thick veil of darkness. The breeze felt damp. Imminent signs of a storm. I
continued staring into the blank darkness. Presently, the silence was shattered
by the shrill, high pitched howling of a pack of stray dogs. My nerves were at
tipping point, I was shaking, the icy cold winds sent shiver after shiver down
my spine.
Then, in the flash of lightning that ensued, I saw it…. Saw
the form that had attacked me with a club earlier that night. The burly figure
was hunched over something. The approaching storm bought with it gusty winds,
which threw at me what at first seemed like vague noises. Then as I grew
accustomed to the whistling winds I thought I heard some people speaking. It
was hard to tell. I craned my neck, trying to decipher the syllables, but only
managed to gather bits and pieces of the conversation.
‘ Tomorrow
night!’… ‘…it’s not over.’, ‘ put an end…’ and then, I heard it…
‘Mistri…’ … my name!
I was paralysed
with fear, I hung limply onto the bars on the window.
They
were out to get me! My life was drawing to a close!
Yet again, my brain regained it’s basic capacities only
after what seemed like eternity. With great difficulty I dragged myself to bed,
but sleep was unwilling to caste it’s soothing spell over me. I woke up
repeatedly that night, drenched in perspiration and reeling in the wake of one
nightmare after another. I was exhausted, rationality evaded me. The line
between fact and fiction was fast thinning!
By the time I woke up the following morning, the sun was up.
The clock told me if I didn’t leave soon, I wouldn’t make it in time for
today’s shift. I considered calling in sick, but my financial position wouldn’t
allow me.
I still hadn’t recovered from the events of the previous
night, but the only way to get over it seemed to get back onto my bus. There in
the midst of hundreds of people, in broad daylight, surely hunters couldn’t get
me!
So quickly, I got myself together and rushed to work. Raman
was already there waiting for me. I considered putting in a call to Leela
before I started off, but couldn’t bring myself to trouble with some more of my
problems. The only option seemed to be to confide in Raman, and so I did.
He thought it was incredulous, nevertheless he offered to
walk me home that evening.
And so the rest of the day passed with no further
excitement. Infact, by the end of the shift, I was quite at ease.
After the shift had concluded, Raman walked back with me as
promised. Back on Marina Road, no one attacked me this time. Within a few
minutes we were at my door step. Raman hung around for a while, and we stood
there talking. A while later, I bid him goodnight and headed up the stairs to
my apartment. No sooner had I put my foot down on the landing than did I see
the sight that stunned. Rajanna was there, a menacing look on his face,
bloodshot eyes and with the club in his hand. He took a wild swing at me, I
dived. He missed, I too missed my footing and went straight down the stirs. I
screamed out for Raman. Luckily for me, he wasn’t more than a couple of yards
away. Seeing me lying in a heap, on the bottom stair, he rushed back to try
help me get back onto my feet. ‘It’s okay, just get him’, I yelled.
Raman looked baffled. Oh!
How difficult was it to comprehend!
Finally Raman realized and bolted out of the stairs. Minutes
later, ‘ but sir, there is nobody up here!’, came Raman’s voice.
‘ quick look in the house, don’t let him get away!’, I
yelled back.
Slowly I managed to get back onto my feet. By now, Raman was
back downstairs.
‘sir, I checked thoroughly, surely there is nobody up
there!’, he pronounced.
Good God! What was going on here!
I recounted to him as
to what had occurred once he’d left. Now he too seemed alarmed.
‘Should we inform the police’, he queried.
‘No!No way! They might be watching! It’s potentially
lethal’, I said, alarmed by the very thought.
We both stood quietly. Not knowing
what to do!
At long last, he said, ‘Sir I
suggest you come home with me, it’ll be better for you this way.’
For the lack of a better idea, I agreed.
At raman’s house we sat down for
dinner. After dinner, Raman excused himself and went out, probably for a smoke
or a nightcap.
I was quite fine for about half an
hour, when like a bolt from the blue, I heard someone call out my name. I
clearly recognized it as Velu’s voice and headed towards the back door. That
was my mistake.
His powerful fists grabbed my arms
and then another pair of hands slithered around my neck. I gasped, kicked and
screamed. Raman came bursting through the front door. But he stood, fixated to
the point!
‘Help! Help!’, I screamed again,
my hands and feet flaying. They were choking me, and the more I struggled the
tighter, they held me. What in the name
of god was wrong with that boy! Didn’t he see my plight?...
And then, realization dawned on
me, the boy was wasted, too drunk to tell what was going on!
This was it, the fingers
constricted my airway, the lights were going out…
At first I couldn’t tell what was happening. I could only
make out vague silhouettes. Then someone’s fingers clasped my hand.
‘How’re you feeling appa?’
The phantasma I had endured came back in torrents. I was now
wide awake. I opened my eyes and there staring me in the face were Velu,
Rajanna and Raman. It was then that I was finally able to appreciate the state
of affairs. It had been staring me in the face all along, it was I who had been
blind. That’s it, they were all hand in glove, Raman, Rajanna and Velu. It all
fit in. Velu’s warning:
‘Mistri sir, be on
your guard! You never know who it’ll be next!’
Raman luring me to
his house. Rajanna and I shared a fair history of animosity, he ’d
be ready to send me packing anytime. … but
what could be their motive be?
That’s when it dawned on me, of course, it was the family
heirloom, the priceless dia…
I yanked myself free from the hand that held me. I screemed
and kicked. My body and mind knew that this was it, the final battle. I punched
and pushed. Hands flew at me, tried to bring me down. But I was a man possessed!
I battled on, now or never!
This was
pointless, the more I fought, the harder they came down on me. I sreamed and
wrenched but to no avail. Many more med held me down and tied my hands and
legs. ‘Leelu, help me!’, I said feebly. But she stood in the corner sobbing.
What happened
next, I can barely recall. It was a haze, I barely could swallow and all I remember
are harsh neon lights.
…………………..***********………………*****************……….
I had a warm cup
of chai in my hand, they were
tremulous. I looked disbelievingly at Leelu. My voice quivered as I spoke and
my mouth was dry. I looked at her teary eyes as she stroked my head.
But how could this have happened. I
looked at her eyes again and then back down.
I had imagined all of this? It wasn’t real?
You mean to say Velu and Rajanna didn’t attack me?
Leelu
sighed. “ It happened in your mind Appa, you have Schizophrenia.”
…………….*****************………………*************
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