Times of India.

It was a sad scene last night.

I was in my room trying to concentrate on tv. And a sudden barrage of knocks on my door made me jump out of my shorts...figuratively speaking.
I made a lazy effort to get out of my bed, figuratively speaking again, and answered the knocks. It was someone I didnt recognize, and I doubt if I'll recognize anyday, because I had no intention of recognizing him again and hence didnt take good notice of his face. He asked if the bike downstairs, was mine. I feared the worst. Did someone set it on fire? Did someone blow it up? Did someone roll over it? You see, they say the highest of trees catch the strongest of winds. And with a girlfriend like mine, you can never know when jealous eyes will strike with the body that houses them. I ran to the edge of the portico and found the bike standing just where I parked it. Thank God, for unnecessitating my first shock.

And so I said yes. Next, he asked for the bike. Now God, that is not fair. This was worse than I thought. He was going to ask for the bike, and with my permission take it, and then blow it up in the middle of the road in front of my own eyes.
I figured out he was speaking some kind of Hawaian after his request, to make me understand his reason. The most exotic language within the realms of my knowledge is zulu, and so I would never understand Hawaian till I learnt it. But somehow I also figured out he was frantic and needed help. So I decided that if my bike were to blow up at all, it would do so with me on it. I proposed to take him wherever he wanted to go and he agreed. So he wasnt targetting the bike alone. Its tough having such a girlfriend I tell you.

I planned to extract the reason on the way, on the way to wherever he was guiding me. And as I executed my plan, I realized he was trying to tell me that 1. The landlord's son had an attack of fits. 2. He was taken to a hospital by his desparate mother. 3. We were going to search for his father, literally speaking. 4. The dude I didnt want to recognize also said he did not know to which hospital/clinic the kid was taken to. Great, first search for the landlord and then search for the kid and his mother. And I left my mobile at home in all the frenzy. This was going to be tough and emotionally enervating for the landlord.

Let me tell you something about the kid. He is one of the sweetest of kids, and the naughtiest I've seen. He has a special liking for my bike and spends a lot of time on it, when I am not around trying to ride it, and a lot of time off it when I am around, trying to damage it. He has some guts I tell you. I dont know his real name, but I've named him Calvin. I've even called him that a couple of times and he has stared at me like he saw an angel who spoke an unknown angelic language, calling him into heaven, which is for him, the rider's part of my bike's seat. So you must by now have figured out that I have a special liking for the kid. He is just like my dad's only son when he(son) was young and just like I want my son(if it is a) to be.
So I was equally anxious and frantic by now.

After unsuccessful searches at a couple of likely places, we then went into a dark gully near the saloon where I had my first haircut at Hyd. And this gully my folks, is one of the damnedest places. It simply irritates you so much that you want to cry, but instead end up killing someone.

It was a small stretch of mud road, leading into a godown. We were to search for the landlord in that godown. On either sides of the road, were carts that are trademark south Indian style. Some sold bhajjis, bondas, pakodas etc.. while some sold fried chicken, fish and stuff that looked like dead dogs, but I better refrain from declaring coz I am a vegetarian and I really dont know how dead dogs look when fried.

The vendors were stable and sober ladies, wearing their sarees rather carelessly. I didnt look at them anyways, coz it is not an advisable act if you consider life precious..why? If you've read carefully till now, you'd understand. Anyways, I bet they didnt mean to seduce, but it was just the way they wore their sarees. Afterall, the dozens of drunken idiots around would never notice.

That place was gruesome. Dozens of males, complete idiots and 'beep's and 'beep's. Sweating profusely, or was it liquor on them I'd never know from that distance I was situated from them. The closest to me and right in front of me, looked like he just fled from jail. I think drinking too much makes him look like that. He was asking a friend, looking equally sick if not more, for a refill. He was holding a beer bottle, but I am sure it wasnt the beer that is produced in licensed breweries. To my right, there were two fighting for the possession of a 'quarter' bottle. They finally settled the dispute by giving that bottle to a third fellow who promised to fill equal amounts in all the three glasses.

To my left, a little towards the rear of my bike, the most irritating of the lot. A kid was carrying peanuts placed precariously on a sheet of newspaper, and ironically enough, it was the Times of India. I almost ended up laughing at the irony though I should have burst out with tears. Going by looks, it seemed he was helping his dad. What a father. Out of sheer morbid curiosity(courtesy - 'Liar Liar') I turned a full 180 and I was rewarded with the sight of an old man (sensitive people dont read) puking. 'Vomitting' makes it sound more disgusting. He had no shirt, and was wearing a torn lungi. I couldnt have a good look of his face. Most of the semi-digested food ended up on this right leg.

The place was stinking like rotten carcasses of pigs. I only assume the comparison should be apt enough to explain the moldy conditions, coz I have not smelt rotten carcasses of pigs. And for the first time it struck me. Why are we searching for our landlord in such a place! What condition would he be in?!
At that precise moment, thankfully enough there came the most relieving (I wouldnt call it exactly 'relieving' in the fullest sense, but in the given cirumstances, it was) sight. That of an undrunk desparate father, rushing out of the godown, panic written all over his face and rushing towards me. Obviously, the dude I didnt want to recognize has spoken Hawaian with the landlord too. Anyways, we set out on the mission to find the kid and found him in a clinic near my place, after around 15 minutes of search in around 6 clinics. He was brought back home at around 10.30 pm. Calvin was back to normal and his naughty self this morning.

But the most disturbing part was this sudden thought when I was leaving that gully with the frantic father. What if, God forbid, a child of one of those drunken 'beep's had an attack of fits and a frantic unrecognizable fellow who spoke only Hawaian when he was stressed, came to inform an unminding father who was in a totally different world altogether, that his son was struggling for his life somewhere in a clinic which they have to search for, in the middle of the night, with a mother who had no money but only shock and grief, desparately trying to save her son?

Sitting in this air conditioned mammoth of a building and earning in five figures, the world just a click away, sensex at 8000, many luxuries within my reach, I might be tempted to think India has come a long way. Yes it has, no denying it. But when harsh realities are hidden in dark gullies such as these, you'd hardly know whats on the other side of the coin. Coming to think of it, India has come a long way, but for it to continue going, looking at the next generation carrying peanuts for drunken dads, its going to take a lot of work.

Irony at its best, looking back and figuratively speaking, the kid was carrying in his hands, the Times of India.