BEHOLD; THE PROMISED LAND

The entire gang was in a bad mood; they all had problems at home. They really wondered if the ones whom they loved so much really loved them too. If they really did love them, was anger and hate the manner in which they would reciprocate and reveal their love? 

Whether it was parents, siblings, or uncles and aunts under whose wings they were sheltered, the gang wondered if they really loved those whom they sheltered or was it just because they felt it was their duty and because they wanted to look good in the eyes of society that they took care of them and behaved as if they love them? 

I too had problems at home; being an only child of rather domineering parents, but I shrugged of my worries rather philosophically while my friends were unable to do so. By the way, for those who don't know me, my name is Sunny and I have made several appearances as a protagonist in Suri Ben Noah's yarns.

All these were questions that prevailed in the minds of the entire gang who were my closest friends when they congregated that evening at our usual haunt. I tried explaining to them that love did not mean allowing the loved ones to always do as they pleased and it was the duty of the one who loved to take care that the loved one did not go astray. 

However, my gang of friends were in no mood to listen. They were already high on grass and downers or barbiturates which were the technical word for such psychotropic substances. In their intoxicated state they felt that they should seek their own paths and carve out their own lives the way they wanted to; far away from their home town and far away from the domineering control of their loved ones.

I tried my best to explain to them that what they had thought of was wrong and that they should return home that night but in their intoxicated and inebriated state of mind they were in no mood to listen. They decided to leave Madras and go to Bangalore; for in those days Bangalore was considered to be a hep and happening town with the right climate and the right kind of girls for guys like us to mingle with. 

I laughed at the absurdity of their suggestion and said they would require money to go to Bangalore and fend for themselves until they found a job but my friends were in no mood to listen. They scorned me for being such a wimp and a spoil sport and decided to proceed to Bangalore that very night to seek their fortune as it were in a new world which appeared to be their promised land.

They then took an inventory of their possessions to see how much resources they had to reach Bangalore. They discovered that all that they possessed was only fifty eight rupees which was not even enough to buy a train ticket for a single person to travel to Bangalore. It was then that one of the wise guys in the group suggested that they start walking to Bangalore and that once they hit the outskirts of Madras they could find an accommodating lorry driver who could take them all to Bangalore as a part of their cargo for a mere fifty rupees.

At this juncture, I felt it was my bounden duty to prevail upon them to see common sense and understand their folly. But my friends were too far gone to see reason or listen to it. Feeling pity for these friends of mine and also feeling guilty that I was not being supportive of them, I impulsively decided to join my friends in their hike to Bangalore for I believed that I was a very resourceful guy and could help them in their quest for independence by being an active participant in raising resources rather than a mere spectator who kept pointing out their follies. Therefore, at eleven that night eight of us set out on foot toward the promised land, Bangalore.

Even before we had finished walking a couple of kilometers, the gang started wearying and slowing down. It was yours most truly who then suggested we take a city transport bus which was in those days called “Pallavan” bus by commuters. For just two rupees per head we would be able to reach Poonamalle; a small suburb from which lifts could be bummed of truck drivers to reach Bangalore. The Gang agreed unanimously to my proposal and we then boarded a city bus to Poonamallee. After obtaining eight tickets for sixteen rupees we were now left with a budget of forty two rupees for us to carve out a fortune in an unknown land.

We reached Poonamalle at about one in the morning. We then strolled over to the road side eateries which were normally haunted by truck drivers at night. However, there were no truck drivers to be found there for it was well past the time when these guys would have a late supper before leaving for their far away destinations.

My poor gang members had no other alternative but to trek down for there was no option of trucks to be had. While the boys continue to trek, I would like to introduce my companions to you since I feel it is my bounden duty to brief you on the seven characters who accompanied me on this journey in search of the Promised Land.

The first one was Dilli Babu who was the senior most and therefore, deserved to be introduced at the beginning. Dilli had just completed his Masters in Public Administration. He was a hard core communist who believed in the equality of all men. He also believed in getting all men drunk for Dilli believed in the power of alcohol in bringing about equality amongst all men.

The second character in this story of mine is Venu Shastri who had recently completed his B.Sc., in Physics. Whose sole ambition was to become a sailor in the Indian navy. His father had been a sailor before him and in spite of all the drinking and hard blows that his father had delivered upon him, Venu felt his future lay in becoming a Naval officer in the Indian Navy. He had therefore written his entrance exams for the Naval Officers Training Academy and was awaiting results when he decided to literally walk out of home.

The next character in this whole incident was Bharathan who was being raised by the children of his father’s second wife. His father had been a cinematographer of yore who had fallen in love with a woman of European descent who had been an artiste in one of the movies on which he had worked. However, the artiste had given birth to two children, an elder brother and Bharathan before she passed away from this world. His father had married again and had four children from his second marriage. It was with the eldest of these four children that Bharathan was currently living and from whose unsavory remarks and behavior that he was running away.

The next character in this entire episode was Satya Babu who was the younger brother of Dilli Babu and who would follow wherever his brother led him. Satya had dropped out of a Pre University Course and had led a vacant life until the gang decided to leave home that fateful night.

The next character in this episode was Chandran who was actually the reason for my being part of this gang. Chandran hailed from a village near Madurai but had come to the city since his father as a Government servant had been posted there. Actually his father worked in the same Government department as my own father and we were therefore really very close since our parents and our families knew each other. It was under Chandran’s suggestion that I had become close with the rest of the gang and it was only because I wanted to protect him that I became part of this group which left home in search of the Promised Land.

The next member of the gang whom I would like to introduce here is Raja who was in no respect a king at all. The Raja being mentioned here was a transvestite who liked to dress up as a woman due to his homosexual inclinations. He was the only guy whom I have seen till date who wore a brassiere and not a vest under his shirt.

The last and final character whom I would like to introduce to you is Mohan; a rather dumb but violent kind of guy. Mohan had been unable to go beyond the sixth grade in school for more than five years and had therefore dropped out of school. He made up for what he lacked in the brains department with his brawns. Though thin and puny in appearance he could unleash such power with his fists so as to knock out any one who dared antagonize him. He was feared by even the deadliest of professional thugs in Madras and was considering turning Pro himself when fate brought him to us on this escapade of ours.

While I was introducing them to you, my gang had meanwhile traveled along in a steady march and had almost reached Sripermbudur. In those days Sripermbudur was still a sleepy village for Rajiv Gandhi had not yet set foot on its ground and had not yet been blown to pieces there. 

It was almost daybreak by the time we reached there and a couple of trucks as well as their drivers were found there outside a Chai shop on the outskirts of the so called town. We approached both of them and offered the forty two rupees that we had left with us to both of them, asking them to take us to Bangalore along with their cargo but both of them refused.

We had marched more than twenty five kilometres that night and we now had blisters the size of cat’s paws on our feet for our footwear was not suitable for trekking. We were already hungry and the effect of our intoxication of the previous night was already wearing off. We were desperate for we somehow wanted to reach Bangalore but the only two truck drivers in sight were unobliging.

Meanwhile, I noticed that Raja was behaving rather effimately and casting side long glances at one of the truck drivers there. A few minutes later I found that Raja had vanished form the scene. We were all tired and none of us were in the mood to walk any further. For about half an hour we lounged outside a chai shop and also lost seven rupees in the process of having seven chais (Raja was not to be found). We now only had thirty five rupees and were nowhere insight of our destination.

The boys were busy tending to their hurting feet and not at all bothered that Raja was missing. I was rather worried when finally Raja emerged from behind one of the trucks with a cocky smile and a rather subservient truck driver behind him. Raja proudly informed us that the truck driver had agreed to take us to Bangalore. We were greatly relieved and did not bother much about how Raja had convinced the truck driver to take us along with him.

We happily boarded the truck and after eight uneventful hours we reached Bangalore at seven that night. Meanwhile we had spent the remaining thirty five rupees on a sparing lunch or rather snack for all eight of us at noon that day and we were totally out of money when we landed in Bangalore that night. Bangalore was cold and we were rather unprepared for it with our flimsy t-shirts and trousers. We had no woolens or warm clothing for we were Madrasis to the core.

It was Diwali’s eve that night and we were out in the cold, shivering, hungry and shelter less.

We walked around Brigade road and then went into MG road just to keep the cold away from us. It was at a corner of MG Road that we came across an old sign that read “Madras Cafe”. We were hungry and desperate but did not have the money or the guts to go in. We looked on hungrily at the entrance to the restaurant as people walked in and out; entering with hunger and then returning with satiated and gratified expressions on their faces.

Dilli who was the boldest of the lot even suggested that we walk in, eat to our hearts' content and run away without paying the bill. However, being the sanest of the lot, I told them clearly that this kind of behavior would only land all of us in jail. It was only at that moment that we espied a middle aged gentleman, observing us from a distance. He appeared all white and holy for indeed the man was dressed from head to toe in pure white. He had on a milky white shirt and the whitest of dhotis to match as much as the white colored chappals did. His forehead was filled with whitish grey sacred ash and he appeared as divine as the divinest of them all.

Noticing that we were observing him he came towards us and introduced himself. He claimed that he was Shivalingam a building contractor in Bangalore and that he was a native of Tamil Nadu with roots in Madras. We were really glad to meet up with a native from our own town; so much so that we then confided all our woes to him and told him how hungry we were. On hearing of our hunger Shivalingam was shocked that people from his native town should suffer such hunger on the eve of Diwali while the whole of Bangalore was rejoicing and celebrating Diwali. He therefore requested us to come with him to his house where his wife would feed us and treat us to the best Diwali of our lives.

Having no other alternative and being hungry, we followed Shivalingam to his residence in Uolsouor which was a small suburb of Bangalore those days. His wife was a pleasant faced woman who appeared to be scared of her husband and obeyed all that he ordered her to do. As soon as we reached his house in Uolsouor he called upon his wife to prepare a hearty feast for us; the gang of eight from Madras. He told us that he would get us all jobs the day after Diwali and that we would all rise like the phoenix from the ashes of our lives in Madras.

His wife was an ever smiling woman whose face had a perpetual smile which looked as if it were a mask but our hunger refused to question her smile and we devoured what ever she dished out to us that night. Soon we became weary for we had had a rather tiring day and we therefore decided to go to sleep early so that we could wake up early in the morning and join the Shivalingam family in the Diwali celebrations of circa 1986.

The next morning, when I woke up I found myself in a hospital bed with a bottle of saline dripping into my vein and no one beside me to share my pain. It was indeed not the Diwali that I expected for I felt weak, drowsy and tired. I tried to move my limbs but they refused to obey my command as if they had a will of their own. My eyes were unable to focus and I could not see clearly and my ears could only snatch pieces of conversation though I was unable to listen clearly.

I heard that they were planning to harvest our organs. Harvest our kidneys which they could then deliver to clients so far away that they could not know anything about us and how our organs had been procured. As these words fell on my ears, though faint and sedated, my mind could understand that we had fallen into a trap, a trap which had been set so that my friends and myself would be the victims.

I knew I had to do something desperate to get us out of this situation we were in. I tried getting out of bed but I felt very weak and faint. The movement of my hand was restricted by the needle taped to it through which saline was dripping into my veins. The sight of the saline bottle really made me afraid and in desperation I felt my abdomen with my left hand to check if I had already been operated upon while under sedation. Fortunately my abdomen was smooth and unscarred and I heaved a sigh of relief.

As I lay on the bed I could hear a couple of doctors whispering to a blue suited bald headed guy who seemed to be the king pin of the organization that our kidneys would be harvested at midnight and shipped in special containers to a far away place. By this time, I was high on panic and looked around widely to see if I could get any sense of the time of day. I managed to have a glimpse of the window near by through which I could make out the fading light of sunset and I realized that I had very little time to save us all.

I quietly closed my eyes and waited for the sun to set so that I could make a break from the hospital where I was held. Soon the sun had set and I could hear the wailing call for prayers from a mosque near by. My room had remained lit with electric tube lights even during the day and the fall of dusk did not affect the lighting in my room. However, the passage of time had strengthened me and I knew that now was the time to make a dash for it.

I slowly managed to raise my self out of the bed, pull out the needle with the attached tube from my forearm and gently stand up. I teetered at the brink of a dark abyss but managed to force myself to stay upright without falling. I then realized that I was not dressed in my customary clothes but was devoid of all clothing and had just been covered by a sheet. I realized I was stark nude but did not have the time to feel ashamed.

I desperately staggered out of the door and made a dash through the desolate corridors while a couple of startled nurses looked at me with shock and mouths wide agape. Before they could react or scream I had staggered out of the corridor and into the dimly lit lobby. It was then that I realized that this was no ordinary hospital but more of a slaughter house kept primarily for the purpose of harvesting human organs. The only person in the lobby was a rough looking male with a mustache curled at both ends. He was more startled at the sight of me than I was of him and before he could attempt to catch me I fled out of the building on to a dark street with no one passing by except for a few cars that whizzed by with a blur of lights.

Bangalore at that time of the year was pretty cold and I had nothing on to cover myself. As the cold hit me I began to run fast to warm myself. Seeing me a couple of stray dogs began barking and chasing behind me. 

Far away in the distance I could see a group of people walking and I rushed towards them to obtain their help. It was only when I reached them that I realized that they were a group of Hijiras. Seeing a young male like me in complete naked splendour they became pretty excited and one of them who was bolder than the others seemed to fancy me and even tried to fondle my privates while offering to give me a blow job. However, the eldest of them all who appeared to be the leader of the group rebuked the bold Hijira and prevented any further mishaps.

The leader of the group was also conversant in Tamil and when I narrated my tale of woe, offered a rough shawl to drape around my waist and gave me the directions to the nearest police station. Following the directions which the leader of the Hijiras gave me, I walked down a market street and the late evening shoppers on the street stared at me in amazement. I was oblivious to them all and walked down the market street which I later came to know was the Uolsouor market road. My thoughts were only on saving my friends.

It was around eight that night when I finally reached Uolsouor police station. I rushed in to explain my tale of woe but the policemen in the station were apparently waiting for me and pounced upon me as soon as I entered the station. As blows from their lathis rained upon me, I lifted my arms to protect my face and realized that I had made a mistake in seeking the help of the local police station.

Apparently the local police station was hand in glove with the organ stealing gang and had been tipped off by them over the phone about my escape. They knew that I would come to them to complain about the gang and had waited patiently for my arrival. I realized I had been very naïve in expecting justice from the police and fell down as the blows continued. It did not seem like my lucky day at all or rather my lucky night and I wondered how I was going to save myself and my friends from the fire into which I had fallen from the frying pan.

It was then that dame fortune smiled upon me for at that moment the local Superintendent of Police happened to come on a surprise visit to the station to check on things and found me being brutally attacked by the local policemen. On seeing their Superintendent of Police the policemen of the station became nervous, stopped their third degree treatment to turn around and salute the newly arrived superior. 

Relieved of the recurring blows, I rushed to the Superintendent to plead with him for the life of my friends. Fortunately the Superintendent was a native of Tamil Nadu and upon hearing that we had come from Madras and had fallen into the trap of the organ smugglers, he was furious with the Inspector of the Uolsouor station. He ordered that I be given proper clothes to wear.

All that happened after that, happened as if in a dream. The superintendent realizing that the local policemen would warn the shady hospital of the raid on the hospital, ripped out and tore away the wires of the telephones in the station; for those were the days before the mobile phones came into existence. 

He then ordered all the cops in the station to board a van while he took me along with him in his jeep from which I showed him the way. The police swooped into the hospital and not a single individual inside the building was spared. All my friends were still groggy but happy that they had been saved. We were all taken to a government hospital where we were given a general check up and made to sleep for the night.

The next morning the kindly superintendent was at our bedside and after a hearty breakfast we were taken back to Madras, escorted by two policemen to ensure that we reached home safely. 

We then realized that for us the Promised Land was Madras and all of us lived there happily ever after until we grew in our professions and migrated to distant lands; each one going in their own direction.