NAIVE REVENGE
Coimbatore was a small, calm and quite district in Tamil Nadu back then in 1990's, everyone knew everybody, it was more of I known you, I see you every day but never spoken to you, people were warmer and friendlier. Our rented house was a stone throw away from the Coimbatore North Railway Station, ours was a small family, thought my dad worked in a tea factory he resembled a cop in his mufti, he had a dark and thick mustache, which he was always proud about and predominantly wore a Ray ban brown shade glass to top which gave him a un undercover agent looks, he was influential and had a great networking skill, everyone knew him, and I faced a big disadvantage of his popularity, as I could not get away easily after a mischief for which I was known for. My Mom was a hardworking lady at home and at office which kept her busy. She was best in managing finances, though I did not care about my education she always did, she even saved her coffee at office to pay my school fee, she was epitome of kindness. My little sister is my best buddy, she always knew what I am up to, she knew me well than anybody, she even forecasted the mischief even before I committed, we frequently fought over petty things like any brother and sister, however as we grew up we were well adapted to each other.
Ours was a one bedroom house in a row house set up, unlike the modern day apartments which gets hoisted every now and then like an equalizer in a music player, many in our city were still not introduced to apartments. The row houses shared walls with their neighbors, there was five row houses in the compound we lived, and ours was second from the last, after which is the central government land for the railway station. The last house is that of our house owners which in many ways didn’t help us, especially when my dad tries to pierce the brick walls with a nail and the other end of the nail always seen peeping the owner’s house, later owner peeping ours to remove the nail. There were five families in our compound, Guna uncle’s family, Latha auntie’s family, Daniel-the little kid’s family; I did not know his parents well nor their names, our family and the house owners. There was quite lot of common attributes among all our families, all the families were in a similar age group, every family had only two kids, all couples were working, every uncles had a tummy, including my dad which suited their age except for Guna uncles tummy, which was like that of a pregnant lady with triplets inside. Though we did not have a power backup, a security guy, club house, swimming pool, gym, lift or a jogging track in our compound, we all lived healthy, happy and in harmony.
There were three rooms in our house, a hall, a bedroom and a kitchen. I spent most of my time in the hall, a big dining table which was never used for dining occupied most portions in the hall, it was used as a study table cum TV stand. This was my dad’s strategic move by placing TV in a study hall so that we could do only one activity at a time either study or watch TV with no distraction what so ever. He always insisted me to read my school text books, even during my holidays. He always wanted to see me reading something or the other and hear what I am reading, so I was commanded to read aloud. This was a nightmare to me, as reading aloud forced me to hate books. I always would find some excuse to stay away from him when he is at home, I will be out. When he is in hall I will move to bedroom, when he is bedroom I sneak out and move to hall, all done tactfully without he noticing my tactics, however I could not get away from my sister who noticed this and blackmailed me sometimes. Everyone, excluding me insisted me to take up studies seriously as they would see playing cricket through the weekends and in all evenings in a weekday. The bedroom though did not have much privacy, I enjoyed sleeping here more than any other house which I moved in later, and one had to pass through bedroom to reach the kitchen. We never owned a refrigerator in our kitchen not we had an animosity with it but it was not affordable, as refrigerator those days was luxury, which in one way helped us consuming fresh food instead of a frozen leftovers and carry forwards. The bathroom was something extraordinary, we had a fully grown coconut tree in our bathroom, yes you read it right. The house owner during construction did not bother removing the coconut tree, one because its fully grown to cut down and he being from mallu land Kerala, cutting a coconut tree down was a crime which he thinks he would carry in his shoulders when he knocks heaven’s door, or he must have considered the coconut tree important than his tenants bathroom interiors. The tree was not a hassle though, the owner had covered the roof of the bathroom with a hole which perfectly fits the coconut tress stem, and we as a tenant showed a blind eye to his cheap innovation and thought we were close to nature.
The first fancy and luxury item bought after the dining table was the TV, the sales guy was able to convince a “Dynora” black and white wooden finish TV to my dad, this came with a free antenna which helped us enjoying the blockbusters in Doordarshan those days. Though we had only one channel to see, which is Doordarshan, the TV came with twelve channel options, all remaining eleven channels featured grains throughout the day, also it came without a remote control as we did not have much control over what was shown on TV. Since the TV had a wooden finish it weighed more than one could imagine, however my dad was able to lift it easily and rest of us would stand and watch his lifting power. The sales man’s USP about the TV was that my dad can have the control over the TV by locking it. Yes, the TV had a screen guard called shutter, it’s a wooden screen which can be pulled from right and from left side of TV, and can be attached to lock the screen of the TV at the center, it also acted as TV screen wooden wind shield, hence my dad locked the TV whenever he feels the entertainment provided from Doordarshan was harming our studies. However, my sister found a duplicate key to unlock and remove the wooden screen whenever my dad is out for work, and lock it back again before he is home. Our TV was now an adopted son in our family; it was very much part of all activities we do every day, we all took a great care of him. During the first few days, Guna uncle, our neighbor advised us not to watch TV for five continuously hours as the TV might get heated up and would burst, also it may not be the right way to treat a luxury item like a black and white TV. Due to his concerns on our TV we were forced not to watch the TV for five hours at a stretch, soon our mini clock took a most prestigious position, the mini clock was kept above the TV for a time tab.
I was put in a Guajarati management school, not to be compared with great Indian business school, rather it was just another higher secondary school managed by Gujju’s where I did most of my schoolings in childhood. I also learned how Hindi is an important language to survive in our country, as well as what a last name would mean, this school being managed by Gujju’s, it hosted numerous Hindi and Guajarati speaking kids, most of them appeared fair, most Gujju kids had a common last name, there were four students in my class who had “Lodaya” as their last name, Anitha Lodaya, Sunitha Lodaya, Poonam Lodaya and Ankit Lodaya. Our school also hosted a fair share of local kids population, two of my cousins and my little sister all studying in various other grades and class rooms, hence we were all closely knitted kids cousin group. My dad selected this school strategically that its neighbors were his and my mom’s office, my parents had a tough time getting an admission for me than my sister, they still brag about my school admission for which they had to be in a long queue from four in the morning till late noon, wondering why is that we have such a high demand for an LKG admission, if marks was the basis for selection for all other courses, then what is the section criteria for LKG, probably how cute a kid looked? Or how far is parent’s office from school? I am certain that I would have got admission for the later reason, however I now do realize that queue they stood that day was worth it.
My school is walkable distance from my home and to my parent’s office, we never lacked in completing our daily chores on time, however there would be some odd days where we ran short of time and they blame it on me, hence my dad found a new short route, it was through a railway track which takes us to a different gate of our school, since taking the main road took a longer time. I was completing my seventh years in school and my little sister was two years younger to me, both my dad and mum took their turns in dropping us at school mostly through the roads.
As I grew big enough which is 6th standard, I was allowed to go to my school all alone without any of the two accompanying us. This was the same year our school allowed the guys to change their uniform dress code from half trousers to full trousers, LKG to 5th grade kids wore half trousers whereas kids from 6th grade to 10th grade wore full trousers, for girls it was an upgrade from skirts to chudidhar in similar grade fashion, however it is still referred as uniform. Everyone in my class agreed that we are all in a mass puberty process.
Now that I wore full pants to school I considered myself as a grown up kid among the juniors. Parents citing maturing approval from school, I am now been given this new responsibility of guiding my sister along with me to school, I was always instructed to hold her hand throughout the walk, she was in her 4th grade and she wore skirts. My sister was too tiny for the bag she carried, she carried all her books regardless of those books being used that day or not, every book she carried was neatly wrapped with a laminated brown cover with a label which featured a ‘arms wide open and smiling mickey mouse mascot’ and fill in the blanks; Name, Class, Section and the Subject written over it, she made sure that the labels or the covers are not damaged until the year ended. Unlike her I had a WWF star in my label, I would have easily torn those brown laminated covers or even the book main covers or sometimes lost few of my books even before the half year.
Now that we had two routes to reach my school, one through the main road and another through a railway track, it’s not a local train journey, instead we had to walk through the railway tracks or the road whichever way we choose. I always preferred railway track route to school, the railway track is laid some fifty meters away from my home; the loud horn which came from those diesel engines could be heard till the end of the street in which I lived. I observed some uncles near my house made best use of the long honk that came from the engines to cover up an embarrassment, they farted whenever the engines honked, initially I was reluctant to notice this, however once while playing cricket the I hit a rubber ball long enough that the ball landed in Guna uncles house, it was a ritual during childhood that if a batsman hits the ball way beyond its supposed to go, it’s the batsman who has to collect the ball back and not the fielder, and it was one such occasion, I had to grab the ball which landed in Guna uncles house. I searched the ball for some fifteen minutes and there were two trains which crossed between that timeframe, as the engines honked the Guna uncle did what he does best, Guna uncle farted each time when the train honked, the honk was loud enough to disguise his extended fart. However now that I was searching the ball in his floor, I had to take a position where I had to notice what’s happening below my feet, hence I was able to notice the rhythm in which he farted, after that incident I learned that it was not only Guna uncle, other uncles too and sometimes my dad too joined the honk party. Hence whenever I was with any of the uncle’s vicinity, I always grabbed my nose whenever the engines honked.
Walking through railway tracks to school was more thrilling than the messy road. The two iron tracks rails are connected by numerous cement blocks, they are buckled up by iron twigs and loads of small rocky stones withered around it to keep the tracks intact. I would count all the cement blocks from home to my school and do this activity on my way back home. I loved walking and counting the cement blocks which connected the two iron tracks and did this every single day, though this count was always the same every single time.
Though I am now considered smart enough to walk my way to school, my mom thought it was not safe enough to take the railway track route to reach our school, and she preferred us taking the lengthier road instead. She often warned, however I did not relent to her advice. Hence she worked out a spy out of my sister, and my sister was now an official informer about the route taken each day. Sometimes my mom would also join our walk minutes after we leave, she would follow us to the crucial point where the road which gives us a detour to railway tracks and confirms that we took the road instead of the railway tracks. After I noticed she following us, I soon found a way to dodge her by getting up early buy milk, finish my daily chores and rush to school well before my mom leaves to office, she believed that I was keen to go to school; however I was keen counting the cement slabs in tracks. I will wait for series of trains to cross, so that I could wave and say “tata” to all the passengers in the train, whenever a passenger responded and waved me back “tata” I will be thrilled and happy. I would then share the wave story with my friends and so does my sister with her class mates, after sighting this thrill and the responses from classmates as well as from the passengers she gradually gave up the spy job, and we both agreed to take the railway tour every day to and fro. Later on we even had a competition, as who got more waves from the passengers, I always proclaimed to be a self-enforced winner and tease her for loosing, she being very small could not protest, however she was always on for a competition.
On our way to school, there were a handful of huts build beside the railway tracks, mostly huts build using the dried coconut leaves, similar to that of a Goa’n beach shack however with the beach missing. As we were regulars, we knew who were in each hut, how many stayed in a hut needful and handful of information about them. Usually I did not bother about the grown up in the huts, except for this man in this mid-thirties brushing his teeth with a toothpowder every morning, I see him every day, there was not even a single day I missed him doing this. I also though probably this would be his full time job. Otherwise I was not particularly noticing anyone as they would be busy with their daily chores always. I was interested in the little ones, I always get to see a black naked baby with a running nose, a little kid in one of the hut whose mom would beat her like a punching bag to tie her long oily hair with a red ribbon, couple of guys with a tyre and stick and few kids playing with the stones laid in the track, and this was the daily scene.
One day I did notice some group of kids from the huts placing their one ear on the iron track and keenly trying to listen to something, I had never thought of such a thing can be done. I was super keen to try this of myself, though my anxiety grew I thought about my sister who may spy this to my mom because, this was not an activity that she can keep her mouth shut. So I did not budge to that moment of anxiety and we continued walking. I was waiting for a day so that I could try hearing the tracks and see what I can listen from them.
As days passed we had few more students from different grades taking the railway track to reach our school. I was good in making friends those days, I would talk to anybody and everybody about anything, I did not judge people, I did not hesitate to speak my mind nor did I bother about what they would think, as I seldom think. This had helped me gain more friends. So I met Balaji, he was a typical Tamil guy who used the railway tracks to reach the school like us, he always carried a canvas shoulder bag overloaded with books and a big lunch box which had food for him as well as for his little brother Murugan, though he carried a huge lunch box, both looked lean. Murugan, the younger one carried a similar looking school bag as Balaji’ s however a smaller size, both brothers looked alike, however Balaji doubled Murugan’ s height. Murugan was of same height of that of their lunch box. These bothers had a typical Tamil Madurai accent and now that Balaji is from my classroom I had loads of things to discuss, Balaji joined our school last academic year halfway, as his dad being a government employee got transferred to Coimbatore. So, it was Balaji his brother Murugan, Me and my sister, we often met in railway tracks and continued our waving ritual to each passing train.
As months passed, it was exam season, the exams are placed in such a way that, we only need to attend half a day to write our exam and leave home, my sister had her exam scheduled in morning and my exams were forenoon, this allowed me to walk in the tracks alone, however she got a pick up and drop from my dad. I thought this was the right opportunity to try hearing the rail tracks, I shared this idea with Balaji and he too was quick enough to respond positive to this bizarre idea of keep the ear and listen the iron tracks, Balaji boasted that he had tried this before and he advised that we should hear the tracks when a train is approaching, though that sounded like a suicide, I thought I should try as my sister was not around.
As we walked further we could see a train fast approaching, before I could turn around and suggest Balaji, he was busy hearing the tracks by keeping his left ear on top of iron track, seeing him I did not have a choice but joined him. By noticing our action from a distance the train driver honked, we dint give a damn and continued placing our ear in the rails, we could hear a strange noise similar to that of a noise made by a 50 feet mouse, it was a squeezy sound which got bigger and better, this was addictive and we wanted to listen more, the train was approaching faster and closer and the driver continued honking , this time even louder and intended only to us, I could feel minor jerk and the tracks slowly started vibrating, the vibration became heavier as the train approached closer as well as the honk, Murugan though did not participate, he stood aside the tracks and was enjoying the scene which was unwinding in front of him. I could see some stones jumping right in front of us and one of them hitting Balaji’s lean thighs. A man from the huts with bare chest in his blue lungi was throwing stones and shouting at us, soon I realized that, this was the man from one of the hut, whom I had seen often brushing his teeth everyday morning, soon we realized we dint have time, enough hearing and both jumped out and paved way for the fast approaching train in time. As the engine passed, the driver shouted at us, for the first time in my life a stranger shouted on me, he was furious. I thought he would apply brakes come down to us and beat us or may be this time he may volunteer to run the train over us. However Balaji was not intimidated by the engine drivers reaction, he waved him and said “tata” as well as to the passengers as a usual practice. Out of fear, I did not bother to look at the driver or the man from the hut who threw the stone to evacuate us from near death scenario; we sprinted to school to write our exam.
The exams were never ending, though we had only five papers the exam lasted for two weeks with numerous study leaves filled between each exam, I made it a point that I would study only during this leaves, rest of the academic year I would be playing cricket, I play after breakfast till the sun sets, matches after matches, break for lunch then play again. I almost thought the sole purpose of my life was to Bat, I always preferred batting like any other Indian kid, I can bat days together and there were kids with similar aspiration and goal, so we always played cricket when not in school. The exam ruined my batting chances.
Exam season continued, I was on my way to one of those exams, I could hear someone shouting my name from behind, and it was Balaji and his little brother Murugan who ruined my endless count of railway track blocks. Murugan never spoke to me, he always looked at me as a big brother and called me Anna (Big brother), I even did not see him engaging in a conversation with his own brother, he was a harmless kid but secretly enjoyed our company with very limited words all prefixed by Anna.
Balaji and his younger brother Murugan had their exams scheduled forenoon, midway in our walk to school, Balaji asked me if I knew how does those big compartments in train managed to balance in those little iron rails, I was taken aback by Balaji’ s wisdom, how could he think of such a situation and question them. Yes, it’s indeed an intelligent question for a guy like me to even think of an answer. Since I was puzzled I said “I don’t know how that thing works, however the cement blocks between the tracks made sure the train dint’ fall” though that had nothing to do with the question he asked, I just said it to ensure him that I too knew some facts about the trains. Sensing my little knowledge, he was up with this conclusion “tracks have a magnetic effect, when it meets the wheels of the train, when the wheel rolls over the track both generates a magnetic effect and they hung on to each other” said Balaji, Murugan and me were gazing at him as if we were hearing a physics class in middle of the railway tracks, neither me or Murugan denied however were fascinated by his knowledge as well as the magnetic effect of trains wheels and tracks when they meet each other. Magnets are the most fascinating and interesting toy I had during my childhood next to the cricket bat.
Balaji continued “if we place a coin on a railway track and if a train runs over it, then the coin would turn into a magnet”
“really?” I was excited to hear that, and I could imagine the number of magnets I could keep for myself. Immediately I took a 25paise coin and asked Balaji “will these turn to a magnet?”
“Yes it will” he replied confidently, so we waited for the train to come.
To experiment this with a 25 paisa coin was not a joke, I had to put a part of all my hard earned savings in an experiment. I would get one rupee as a pocket money every week if I wake up early everyday morning go to a milk booth and buy a litter of milk. If I do this without an excuse for a week then I get to earn a rupee from my mom. I would immediately trade that one rupee for various milk chocolates which was available in a local shop near our school, a piece of homemade milk chocolate was only 10 paisa, hence for one rupee I could enjoy enough chocolate and keep my sweet gland in my tongue in check.
I was continuously staring at that 25 paisa coin, “here comes the rain” Balaji shouted with anxiety. Murugan and I immediately followed him, Balaji grabbed the 25 paisa coin from my hand and placed it on the track. It was goods train with loads of rice and other goods packed in each bogie, it moved in a snail’s pace like Inzamam sprinting for his run, I so wanted to push the train away from the tracks and take the 25 paisa turned magnet back, however I settled to wait. We could not notice the coin in the track after half the bogies passed over it, the train moved on after a while and the track was clear, we searched for ten minutes and did not find any trace of coin. “Probably now that the coin got magnetized it would have got attached to the wheels” said Balaji, “you dint tell me this would happen” I protested. “Since its goods train and coin being 25paise we could have lost it”.
I asked “what do we do now?”
“Do you have another coin” Balaji asked with a hope, I searched my entire bag, though I knew I have a one rupee coin in my Nataraj geometry box, I frequently used one rupee to draw circles, I did lot of drawing with that coin in various books with no actual propose, I drew funny faces, wheels, multiple circles one over other, national flag chakra, sun, moon and many more. I had all my drawing with a base as circle for unknown reasons, and I also once rearranged a circle drawn by my teacher with red ink, which was a zero which I received in one of my mathematics paper, she also had a habit of writing remarks after the score, she wrote V.V.Poor (very very poor) and I managed to make a smiley out of the double o’s in PJJR.
I did not want to reveal my big savings in my geometric box to Balaji, however the process of making magnet out of a coin stuck me and I took out the one rupee. For the first time I could hear little Murugan shouting in top of his voice “Oru ruuba va!!”, as soon I heard it I thought I am doing some crime and I should step back, however Balaji soon grabbed one rupee and said “lets wait for the fast passenger train, we will get the magnet today”. The last words from Balaji’ s mouth got us thrilled and we decided to wait for the passenger train. As we waited somewhere from the distance we could hear a train honking, however could not make out yet if the train would appear from left or right, however Balaji did not bother, he want near the track and laid the one rupee over the rail, all three waited and noticed the train fast approaching from right, sighting passengers hanging in the doors we were happy that it is the passenger train. The train was super-fast and in no time it ran over the coin, however this time around we did not bother to wave the passengers instead all our eyes were glued at the coin and the passing wheel. As soon the train passed, we ran to the tracks and picked the coin turned magnet.
The coin took a shape of an amoeba which was similar to the that of picture in my biology book, have never imagined a coin could take such a shape, the impressions which were in the coin were missing and I could feel enormous heat in the coin, it was as if the coin had an acid attack, it was way out of shape, however I grabbed the coin and tried sticking it to the iron twigs which was used to clamp the cement blocks and iron rails, it wasn’t sticking, Balaji and I repeatedly attempted to stick the coin to the iron however the coin was not acting as a magnet, we were furious and disappointed with Indian railways as well as our experiments which went all hoax . Sighting this experiment which went in vain and a frustration in my face Soon Balaji said ”I will give my share of 50paise tomorrow” as this was a big financial loss for me. I did not reply, though I thought if he keeps his promise, I opened the geometric box and stored the adapted amoeba coin and we sprinted to the school to give our exams.
Balaji was slow walker, as I played more cricket I managed to walk faster, I could see little Murugan keeping up pace with me, I could see Murugan walking with a dull face and his eyes showing all sadness and disappointment because of the failed attempt as well as the financial loss, I looked straight into his eyes and I was able to connect with him for the first time, since I also lost my hard earned one rupee both Murugan and me needed to digest the fact. I went near him, took his hand like how I used to hold my sisters hand during the walk to school, and walked as fast as we could to reach on time. As we reached school gate I said little Murugan not to worry, I told his about a shop which sells magnets and we might as well get a new magnet stick instead of shaping up new amoeba each time. I could see little Murugan attempting to smile, I also noticed that Murugan had lost some of his tooth, I went on to tease him for the empty spaces he managed in his mouth. However he was happy to lose some more teeth as he had competition with his classmate, as who would lose many teeth this academic year. I wished him all the best for the exams as well as for the crazy competition which he is into. Balaji joined us later and we both headed to the exam hall.
As days passed we wrote our last exam , “what are you doing this vacation” quizzed Balaji, “I need to check with dad, hopefully he allows me to grand moms” , my grand mom is settled in Kerala, her house was my second home, visiting grand mom was always a great way to spend my holiday. No books, no strict rules, no waking up early, no milk collection, no dad no mom. I get a same feeling as one would get out of power yoga, a great way to reinvent myself with loads for games to play with my cousins, and as always the game was cricket. Balaji and Murugan were heading to their Uncles house in Palani, both were sad as their parents were planning to get their hair shaven off as an offering to God. Balajis parents were able to convince both the kids as this baldness suited them this summer and appropriate style for the climate. They were also asked to pray well before offering their hair to the God, else they would be risking their exam results.
Playing cricket was norm after writing last exam of academic year, we would wait of the bell to ring soon our grounds will be packed, girls would stay little longer this day and they would be our special audience for the last cricket match of the academic year, all possible way to impress a girl will be plotted in the pitch that evening, this ritual happened every year until I was in college, because in collage we learned better ways to impress them.
It was 5pm, and as the sun slowly started to settle down, we bid good byes to each other and to our special audience after that match, since we would be meeting each other only after two long months, we spend little longer time in campus than usual. Few girls decorated the classroom with color chalk pieces and they wrote in a highest possible font size in the back board “HAPPY HOLIDAYS” which was surrounded by drawings of many butterflies, unknown birds, a bright sun and whole lots of flowers drawn all around the blackboard. We all gathered in our class room and bid bye to each other, as there were no mobile phones those days, we had no option but to stay away from each other for two long months.
Balaji, his brother Murugan and me left together from school as usual, and headed to the railway track, my sister was already picked by my dad at noon after her morning exam session, since the exams were over we walked slowly and happily, we were not talking to each other much, as our stupid experiment haunted us as we passed the location where we tried it. Since Coimbatore was a small town back then, the number of train frequented was less and it had only one main railway track. As the track approached the railway station the track would get divided into two, one leading to platform 1 other to platform 2, at this very inter-section where the track divides hosted a control room and a technician, usually this control room is a two story square box room which you will find in all railway station as soon as the track divides, this will be built between these tracks just before the platform starts. Based on the command the technician receives, he pulls a lever, accordingly the track is set in such a way that the train is diverted to platform 1 or the other. As seen in some Bollywood or any other wood movies, when a heroine or any of the hero’s relative would be running, his/her leg would get stuck in this very inter-section, and our brave hero would pull them out just in time a microsecond before the train runs over them, such curtail and risky was the inter-section in our railway tracks, and control had the lever control to handle the intersection.
As we walked near the detour which lead us to home, Balaji came up with an idea, “can we walk further more in the track and go pass the railway station?”, now that the exams are over and the relaxation period started I was game for it and I immediately agreed, Murugan’s opinion was never asked as his role was to follow his elder brother Balaji wherever he goes. We started walking further in the railway track and avoided the road to my house, we explored new areas which we had never seen before, we walked for twenty more minutes and we could see a pole which gave signals to the approaching train. While we crossed the signal was Red and it was clear that no train was scheduled at this point of time. Young Murugan questioned Balaji “what if the light was red, and still a train managed to pass, what will happen?” “Who has the switch for these lights?” we were wondering why he asked these questions, however both of us did not think of an answer and we walked further. We were closing near the railway station, we were crossing the junction where the railway track splits into two to different platform, and the control room was about two hundred meters from where we were. Balaji signaled “Muruga get down from the track, don’t walk near the tracks now, if the controller changes lever your legs will be stuck” Balaji was concerned about his little brother, Balaji wanted to play the big brothers role here, after advising him Balaji continued walking in the track to prove his seniority and courage. I did not bend down, I also followed him, crossing the inter-section was a scary but thrilling moment, the thought of legs getting stuck was beating my heart rate more rapidly than ever.
As we were passing Balaji said “what if instead of leg, a stone is stuck? “The controller will attempt to change the lever, however because of the stone the train would go the opposite direction the controller wanted” “it’s time to give back, we didn’t the magnets” remember? None of us thought about the consequence of this act, all we wanted was to create some kind of mess, we all were in the revenge mode, “the stone would easily break, if the lever is pulled”, Balaji suddenly jumped out of the track and disappeared into the bushes nearby, after few seconds he appeared “do you think this would break?” he was holding a big rock which would exactly fit the divider junction and it was a hard solid piece of rock, looking at it we were sure it wouldn’t brake easily. He threw the small rock to me, however I dropped it due to its heavy weight, Murugan laughed at me and said “catches win matches” I retaliated and said “do you want to try catch it? Shall I throw? ” he soon realized that he tried messing up with my cricketing skills, and didn’t bother to talk about it further. We had no idea of the magnitude of our action, thought somewhere in our mind we know we are into another stupid experiment, we were keen plotting against Indian railways, though Indian Railways had no role in our earlier stupid amoeba experiment, we just wanted to cause damage and get away.
As joker, Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight says “we stop looking for monsters under the bed when we realize they are inside us”, yes the monsters inside us were unleashing. After I placed the big rock in the intersection we all got a sensation that we shouldn’t be hanging around here anymore, though we did not tell this to each other, by instincts we started walking back home, however this time even more brisker than earlier, for the first time I saw Balaji walking at my pace. As we moved some 200 meters from the operation rock, Balaji said “we are taking this detour, this will lead to the main road and we will reach home easily” “ ok, carry on “as I need to walk some fifteen more minutes in the same railway track to reach my home. I bid bye to Balaji and Murugan, wished both of them a happy holidays and I already started imagining both brothers getting bald and gave them a smile, as usual Murugan followed Balaji into the bushes and they disappeared.
I continued walking in the track, as I took my tenth steps after biding byes to brothers, I could feel a large tap on by back collar, within seconds I was in air, cycling my legs in air and I was six feet above the track. I was not aware of what was happening. A six feet tall man, who had similar features of my dad with a thick mustache whose palm was as large as Murugan’ s legs grabbed me, he wore a khaki shirt and a khaki pants, he was out of shape with a huge belly, if he had to gulp me I would easily fit in his huge belly. He started dragging me in the tracks and it was merely impossible for me to get away from his clutches, hence I dint try too hard after some initial revolt. “so you are the one, I was waiting for you” my heart started beating faster like a sound from a motor boat, I was pleading him to leave me, however he gave me one tight slap, it was such an intense pain that I followed him with no protest like a how Murugan followed Balaji. We passed the inter-section where we kept the large rock to misguide the controller, however now that I was in huge pain and shock I did not notice it.
He was directing me to the control room, we had to climb a rusted stair case which had some 30 odd stairs to climb, I was hesitant, I started to show my protest even better now, because I thought I may be held captive here and not sure what was coming for me, citing my protest he was about to swing his arm to slam dunk me, hence I wasting no time I started sprinting in the stair case and reach the control room before he could take his first step in those iron stair case. The control room was dark, with all old furniture’s and had loads of electric equipment’s with maps, signal lights, levers and many more things for which we do not have a name in this world. It was similar to Titanic lower deck, I felt only unwanted people will be hosted here. I could see a numerous windows in this room however the room was dark. The glass doors of the windows were glued with dust which came out of the engine smoke and the government has never allocated budget to wash these windows after independence. “What’s your name? I was looking for you for a long time” said the man who climbed after me. He was the controller, the dress code was of railways, I could see a steam engine logo printed in his right corner of his broad chest. “Sir it was not me, it was Balaji idea”
“Who the hell is Balaji” “I saw you placing an iron rod in the tracks” he exaggerated. “No, I kept a stone, not a rod”
“So you scum bag, it was you who kept the stone” soon I realized what an idiot I was. “Do you have any idea of the consequence?”
“Sir, we thought it will break” I was intelligent answering this one though.
“You are the one who did this last week also right?” this shocked me, he was trying to accuse me for something which I did not do. “No, that was no me” “even this time, it was Balaji’ s idea”
He pointed his finger towards the open window “see, from here I saw you keeping a stone” I did not say anything, tears gently started popping out, as I am now caught with an eye witness, and I was certain that there is no way out but to plead guilty”, he showed me a board which had lot of LED lights and maps, it was some sort of scrambled circuit diagram, I did not follow a thing. He told me that he gets a signal if any disturbance in the tracks especially at the crucial inter-section where the tracks spitted to different platforms, and he claimed that he did get a signal when I placed a big stone, he even said an LED light blinking was the signal for disturbance, I had no option but to believe what he said, if he said he can see Mumbai in this LED circuit board I would have believed him.
He gave me a plain paper and pen, I was sure things are going way out of my hands now, he said he is now calling the Railway cops and they will take me away from here to a Jail, for attempting to derail a train and kill hundreds of passengers. I started crying, tears started pouring like a monsoon rain, this time I was intense and my feet started feeling cold in that summer, “sorry sir, I will never do it again, it was a mistake” he handed me the paper and pen, I protested to take it, he took a Motorola walke talkie which was locked inside what looked like his private drawer. He had tied the battery and knobs using a sticky tape, he switched on, I could hear a noise similar to that of a radio station, he called out saying “ I got him, you can come over and take him” as soon I heard I thought I am going to jail, I started imagining my dad who would not spare me for the deed which I committed, my annual holidays, my grad moms home and of Couse I am going to miss more cricket matches, I immediately took the plain paper and wrote all the information he asked like my name, age, school, parents name, address and landmark. Now that I have disclosed my identity I had no other option but to beg, I kept the paper aside and went running to him and fell straight on his legs and begged for mercy, he asked me to leave his legs free, however I cried louder and begged. I was flat in his legs like I would get blessings from him. Now that I was not leaving his legs, he used his weapon, yes his mighty hand, he grabbed me by my shirt collar and pushed me aside. I volunteered to move to the corner of the room and continued weeping.
“train number 11014 bangalore express crossing” was the message he received in his walke talkie, he went near a lever and I saw him changing and pulling a long steel lever and then he took a green flag and was waiting near the window. My tears dried out and I was slowly overcoming the whole thing happening around me, few minutes before I was a happy kid, enjoying my last day before vacation in school now I have a clear mass murder attempt case against me with a witness, and I am about to debut my jail term. While I was settling down to be a jail inmate I could hear a train approaching, soon I realized that the big stone is kept between the inter-sector and this may cause some trouble, the train may derail, it may hit the control room, passengers and I will be dead, I dint care about the controller. I felt I was going to die, a big accident is going to unfold all because of my stupid and naive revenge and my own act of absurdity, I was praying and thinking how I am wasting my life, how a small rock would put not only to my life but also all the passengers in train number 11014 Bangalore express to jeopardy. As the train approached the honk was getting louder and I thought it’s going to hit the control room at any moment, however to my surprise the train passed over peacefully, and the controller waved green flag from top of the control room. “If I had not moved the rock which you had kept in inter-section, then by now the train would have landed in trouble like you” said the controller, I realized that that controller had moved the stone before he chased me down and caught me by my collar. I was relieved and relaxed, I was happy to regain and wanted hug and thank the controller.
After a minute of silence he said “will you promise me, you will never think about doing this again?” I sprinted from the corner of the room and again fell flat in his legs and begged to spare me for once. “If you do this again I will slap you like before” “no sir, I will never walk in these tracks again” “I was referring about you falling in my feet you punk!! Also I do not want to see you ever again in these tracks anymore”
For a moment I thought I was given a second change to live this life, “sorry sir, I will never appear in this railway track in my life again” I sprinted from the control room and reached home like I travelled in time machine. I did not know the name of this railway controller however I considered him as my private god who gave me a second change to live and help me think before I do any action with mad haste. As I reached home my sister had already started enjoying her vacation, it was 8pm she was drawing a mickey mouse in a plain paper using water colors. Mom and dad had just reached, now that reaching late was a ritual in last day of annul exam they did not bother to question me unlike other days, I did not talk to anyone, however my sister was able to find out a change in me, she asked me why was I late to reach home to get some clue, I did not bother answering. I went straight to my bed and slept. Before I got into my deep sleep I was dreaming about meeting Balaji and Murugan, I was sure that they should get their share from the events I went through after they left me, however when I thought about their bald heads after vacation a sparkle of smile settled in me, but I made sure at least I will play Tabla in their head when I meet them and share all what happened to me.
It was 6am, alarm in my fancy talking watch goes on, now that it’s a holiday I thought I would wake up late, “Ranjith, wake up, go get the milk from the booth before it’s over” said my mom. I was reluctant to move “do you want pocket money or not?” now she gave me no option, I had to move and get the milk packets, only then we could have our morning tea, and I would get my one rupee pocket money. I took my regular milk bag and started my longest walk pushing myself to the milk booth, in the background I could hear an engine honking far in the station, as I heard it I sprinted to milk booth and back home, fell on my bed and covered my face with the bed spread, siting my reaction my sister said “mom, something wrong with him from yesterday”, “shut up, you little bee, if you speak any further I will spy to dad that you hold the duplicate key to open the Tv shutter”.
- RANJITH DAMODARAN
