Scribbles by Sudhansh

The winter had its limits pushed and the workers in those factories already wished they could flee from there and smoke to get rid of the banging their heads faced. The trees stood offering their seasonal jewels – plums, strawberries and grapes….but no wonder industrial wastes had worsened them in a manner that even the afforestation campaigns and plantation entrepreneurs could do nothing over their uselessness.

The roads were built by the current government two years back but the regular passage of heavy trucks had them broken enough for the vehicles to act lethargic and the drivers to utter bhenchod at every pothole. The word bhenchod had become so common that their wives manipulated it further to respond to their beating and their children learnt it by heart and repeated it every time they played. The hands working in a standard acclaimed liquor factory ended their tiresome day with a fifty rupees kachchi daaru (raw liquor) with a realisation that it would ultimately result in their death setting them free from their wives’ quarrel and their kids who repeatedly asked them to buy expensive toys. At the centre of the town was Kaka Sa’s meat shop which he ran with a twenty years old fair looking boy.

While the world celebrated Christmas, Kaka Sa was someone who still believed in Pandit Madan Mohan Malviya Jayanti. The famous scholar who introduced the slogan of Satyameva Jayate i.e. ‘Truth Alone Triumphs’ which went on to be recognised as India’s motto and one of the core values of the country’s judicial system.

“A full One Kilogram, with both limbs. Don’t want the neck”, ordered the stout looking customer and stood right on the young boy’s face to have the bird butchered with no cunningness attempted.

Kaka Sa, the 67 year old owner of the decades-old meat shop had given up his work after hiring a teenage boy five years back. He was amazed at the boy’s quickly learned butchery skills as much as the precision and strength of his strikes. Another thing that caught Kaka Sa off guard was the fact that the fragile young boy did not show slightest reluctance in learning a considerably violent profession.

Sahil chose the healthiest bird of the cage with splashes of blood hitherto dried up on his forearms and a torn up woollen t-shirt he wore followed by a grey coloured pyjama.

Fate had used paradoxes in the story of his life so brilliantly that a (once been) hypersensitive and empathetic kid did not even blink while cleaving through the muscles, nerves and bones of bucks and chickens everyday for twelve hours straight. He spent his days snipping, thudding and thwarting meat and when he lay flat on his cot in Kaka Sa’s backyard at night, he felt snipped, thudded and thwarted by the shadows of his past who wouldn’t leave him alone till he begged for his life. At times, he played the Malayalam song gifted by the dusky girl of his class. She once even sang it out loud in the classroom looking at him,

Virahagniyil Erinjalunna Ravil,
Thiranura Neyunna Theerangalil,
Polarkalam Porum Vazhiyorangalil,
Orkkuvanay Eeoral Matharam,
Pathi Athmavil Veenjumay Vannu.

In a night blazing with grief,
In the shores of surfing waves,
In the pathways of dawn,
You are the only one to hark back to,
Who came with a wine filled soul.

Sahil grew up in an upper middle class household technically a maternal home to him. However, his grandfather and elder brother were the two people he would stay, play and cause dismay around. He was justifiably indifferent to Uncle and Aunt who couldn’t care less if he skipped a meal or two. After Nana’s demise, his brother was the only shoulder left for him to ride on. Being four years elder to him, bhaiya would play his mother who died weeks after his birth but the big sibling wouldn’t like talking about Papa and often brushed off the topic saying that they did not need him anymore.

Bhaiya being a kid himself would get him ready and accompany him to school. His tired eyes wouldn’t slumber until Sahil himself fell asleep. The single most dear thing to the kid was seeing his big man’s eyes light up as he finally solved a maths problem and then followed the game of hide and seek which was timeless for the little men. The mystery to the younger fellow was the ease with which the big man read out,

“She sells sea shells on the sea shore”

and if that was not enough,

“The sixth Sheikh’s sixth sheep is sick” came knocking his head.

The heavenly clock ticked faster, seasons ran in a fabulous fashion and by the time Sahil had seen fifteen springs, he was very much in love with the ever-smiling dusky girl who sang love songs. The road was never entirely smooth for him. He had learnt to hide from his seniors who wouldn’t leave an opportunity of pinching his belly, pulling his hair, slamming him flat on the ground or ragdolling him. He once decided to be a man of honour and fight back, but was punched on the nose and ragdolled all the way out of the gate. Despite countless attempts of hiding it from bhaiya, he was caught and the next thing was the big man’s fury. Coincidentally, Bhaiya knew the bullies personally and paid them a visit only to bruise one of them on the head, fracture an arm, break a jawline but that was not what Sahil saw when he arrived at the scene.

He only saw one of them pointing a gun at bhaiya with shivering hands. Bhaiya still showed no signs of retreat and kept him choked until the trigger of the silver gripped pistol was pulled and the copper plated bullet made its way piercing out of Bhaiya’s chest.

In…………….blazing……..…….grief
In……………………….surfing waves
In……………pathways………….dawn
You are the only one…………………..
…………………………wine filled soul.

THWART!

And the last blow of meat cleaver was to get the intestinal area separated. Sahil handed a full one kilogram of chicken to the stout looking customer and slid the cash in.

The following evening, he found Kaka Sa in his room with the useless lawyer Sahil despised. His lawyer as usual explained the procedures and the progress they have made so far in the murder case filed by him.

After Sahil was done with his role, Kaka Sa turned to the lawyer and said, “I am not sure what to expect, Waqil Sahib. Five years is a long time and it doesn’t seem in any way that they are accused of a homicide. Wasn’t this supposed to be their prison time?” The lawyer convinced him somehow and went back.

Kaka Sa switched off the television which displayed the essence of Satyameva Jayate.