Ravindran

Ravindran started to work for Akhilbhai with enthusiasm. His mornings were frenzied, with all the six roommates trying to do their bit to ensure that the other was late. Often Ravindran was the last to get to use the small mori within the room, by which time it would be a mess, oily with the smell of rancid body oil and chameli oil that Mehra used liberally everyday. The day was spent walking behind Akhilbhai clutching notebooks full of figures and numbers. The one hundred and seventy seven rupees that had remained from the two hundred were enough to get him to the end of the month. In fact he was prudent enough to ensure that he had not spent more than forty rupees, which meant that he still had a king’s ransom with him. When he completed thirty days, he had to stand for a couple of hours in a queue to collect his salary. Sixty rupees. He had spent days planning, fifteen for the food, ten for the room, five to travel by bus to work, that would leave twenty rupees to buy some clothes and soap. Maybe some Cuticura talc and some sweets for the roommates and also a good meal at Novelty Tea house with Chandran.

Ravindran was pleased with the money in his pocket; it made him feel good. Unlike the times when he had to ask repeatedly for money, now he had a pocket full of notes that were his. That evening he went in search of Chandran.

Chandran’s tyre shop was shuttered, the clerk at the hardware shop next to it did not know where the dark Madrasi was. Ravindran sat around for a couple of hours and gave up. He was beginning to get worried. It was unusual for Chandran to shut his shack right in the middle of the week. There were always tyres that were sent in the evenings that needed to be tended to by the morning.

Ravindran went in search of Chandran to the railway yard. Just as he crossed the tracks he heard some shouting followed by screaming. He ran in the direction of the screams. Chandran had been stabbed a couple of times. Blood seeped onto his streaked shirt and a pool formed right where he crumpled. The men looked at Ravindran and moved towards him, Ravindran picked up a large stone and flung it at the one in front, it hit forehead and the man cursed loudly. Sharp stones make for good weapons, Ravindran had used them on the CPM goons back home.

The two men were distracted and by the time they looked up Ravindran had run hard and fast towards the Railway Station. He was crying, breathing hard and screaming at the top of his voice. It would be another half hour before he could explain to the lone police constable on duty that his friend had been stabbed. He managed to get Chandran to the Hospital after the police did the panchanama.

The doctors and the three nurses treated Chandran as they would on any other day. Bombay was full of people with broken limbs and accidents. What difference would it make if another one of the hundreds survived the night.

Chandran did survive. Ravindran pleaded and grappled with everyone to ensure that something was done. He even called up his mentor Vadararaja very early that morning and persuaded him to do something. By the afternoon a minion from sethji’s home had come along with the local corporator. After that the nurses were a little better behaved.

Chandran had got into a scuffle with the two men because of an old rivalry. The two men belonged to the gang that controlled the area around his shack. To them the dirty Madrasi was just another boy who they could bully for some extra hafta. Chandran always paid what was due to him. The day he was stabbed, the two men had been drinking and were in the mood to bully someone. They had stopped Chandran from opening his tyre shack and had slapped him around a couple of times.

Something inside Chandran snapped when they groped him and commented about his mother. He had lashed out at the one closest and then run off. The two found him hastily collecting his belongings. They wanted to teach him a lesson and decided that the best way would be to drag him to their godown down the seaside and torture him for a few days before letting him go.

Chandran fought hard and when they found him impossible to handle one of them stabbed him with the rampuri knife they favoured.
A month later the two men and Chandran were summoned to the ‘office’ of the man who controlled the area. Vadararaja had arranged for the men and Chandran to reach a settlement. Chandran swore never to misbehave and the men assured that they would not look at the Madrasi for anything more than the weekly hafta. Ravidran wanted the men to apologize. He wanted them punished. He was told firmly that he would get into trouble with that fiery attitude and that he should mind his business. The constable was there too. He did his part of not reporting anything.

Bombay was strange. Ravindran found that as the months passed, he could either just remain silent and take his monthly salary or do something that would allow him to get a better life. Chandran has gone into a shell. He would just do what was needed to make enough to live and send money home. Six months after the incident, he quietly asked Ravindran one day if he could borrow some money to go see a movie. Ravindran laughed and paid for the pickchar and the biryani. Maybe life would return to normal soon.