BEEDIS AND CRACKERS

My father was very adamant on not to send any money this month. Thrown to a Siberian corner of Tamilnadu to learn engineering, I was constantly fretting this decision of mine or fathers or whoever it is. Ever since pappa found out I was into smoking and drinking, he stopped sending me any money altogether. The room rent was to be paid, the cable got cut and I was terribly hungry. All I had left was rs.217 in my torn purse. These days I took a liking to smoke cheap beedis. So there I was, a beedi between my fingers and puffing smoke contributing for the heating up of the globe along with the others in the neighborhood who were firing crackers for the diwali.

I sat in the verandah numbly enjoying the fire works in display. Suddenly a hoarse voice diverted my attention.

“Sakhave theepetti undo?” (Comrade, do you have a match box?)

The guy wasn’t wearing a shirt and his ribs wanted to fight the skin and come out desperately. He was wearing a pale faded lungi which would have never seen a drop of water ever since his dad had bought him for his 10^th birthday. The smell of the monitor brandy was in the air. ‘Monitor’ was the cheapest and hardest to drink alcohol you will get around. Understanding his desperation, I raised my hands to give him the cigarette lighter I had.

“Oh! So rich, huh!” exclaimed the drunken fellow looking at my lighter.

“Can I have the beedi too?” said he and I reluctantly gave him one.

Happily he lighted his beedi. Standing like a snake of a snake charmer puffing out a smoke he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Joy” I replied.

“Nice name. I am Nibu from Thiru..Thiruvenna..Tirivenra…che..che…”

“Thiruvananthapuram?”

“Ah! That’s it! Where are you from?”

“I am from Kozhikode”

Nibu laughed cupping his mouth ridiculing me, “Koyikode kundan!”

“And why are you not home for diwali?”

“Nothing, certain problems with my father”

“Ha! Ditto! Same thing, even I have problems in my house. Guess today we are the only malayalees in this whole neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Actually I live in the next house and I am having some crackers with me. I’ll bring it in a while. You people are having a good terrace. Don’t you? We’ll blow them from here.”

I was not into firing crackers and this fellow had taken the peace of my mind I craved for so long. Before even I could reject his invitation to fire crackers, he had gone off to get them from his room.

I had always avoided annoying people like him and they always keep coming back to vex you. No wonder I didn’t know any other malayalee students in the neighborhood than my roommates.

Nibu came back with a polythene bag containing ‘loose’ padakkam (Crackers that look like tiny dynamite wrapped up in red paper) and a bottle of brandy – MONITOR.

“Joyee, get me a bottle of water and also keep that lighter with you and come to terrace.” Nibu ordered me.

I went in to the kitchen, got a bottle and poured some water from the pipe that was connected to the Kaveri River nearby sparing the drinking water for my own needs.

With the lighter and the bottle I went to the roof where Nibu was waiting for me eagerly. He snatched the bottle in my hand and sat on the floor. Nibu poured his last few drops of the brandy into a steel tumbler which he had very cleverly tucked inside his lungi. He poured the water carefully, took a sip from the tumbler and went on to put his hands into his lungi to get a 1 rupee aachi lemon pickle. The sachet pickle had been sucked to the core. Nibu tried his might to get the last few fillings inside the sachet and almost chewed it whole. Next he offered me the brandy. I declined. The first and last time I had monitor brandy, I had puked very badly and woke up the next day with a volcanic eruption in my head. Both of us were happy for my rejection. In the next sip Nibu completed whatever was left inside the tumbler. I was awestruck. He stood up and went on to get the crackers. He placed the cracker above our cemented water tank and fired with the cigarette lighter. BOOM! It burst. After firing five of them, Nibu handed over the lighter to me and cajoled me to light the cracker.

“Come on dude! Be a brave man.”

Reluctantly I took one and placed it on the tank and fired it with the lighter. Before even I could take my hands from the cracker, it burst BOOM! I screamed in pain. I thought my fingers had burst along with the cracker. Luckily it was intact and had burnt quite badly.

Nibu came running towards me with the water bottle in his hand. He spilled the water to the burned part of my fingers and kept apologizing.

“I am sorry, man. I know this is because of me, I am really sorry.”

“Its okay!” I said and screamed in pain.

Nibu lifted his lungi and reached for a loose tip and tore the lungi. With the dirty piece of the cloth he wrapped up my fingers. He helped me to get to my room and I lied on the bed. After few apologies Nibu left me alone. Ah! Peace of mind at last. The pain in the burnt finger was receding and just when I closed my eyes for a long nap, someone knocked at the door.

“Eda Joyee, this is me, Nibu. It’s very urgent, open the door.”

Swearing at him silently I got up from my bed and went to the door. Nibu was looking worse now, with a blood shot eyes and disheveled hair he almost scared me.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Dude, I need to go home urgently, my mother is very sick. I’ll be back this Monday.”

Before I could say anything he came up with the favor I was expecting. “Joy, can you help me? Can you give 200 rupees? I’ll return as soon as I come back. Please!”

I have been real mean to people before, but his helplessness made me sympathize. I gave him the 200 rupees I had and 17 rupees was all that was left with me. Two more days for Monday.

“Dude, bring it on Monday, I am totally bankrupt.” I ordered Nibu.

“Definitely. I’ll bring the money. Its so urgent. That’s why. And thanks a lot brother.” Nibu replied.

And after surviving on few biscuits and some water came, Monday.

I immediately went to the next door and knocked. A big fat fellow with the face of a baby opened the door, “Who are you?” He asked.

“Is Nibu home?” I questioned.

The other roommates came out to see their new malayalee visitor.

“There is no one named Nibu here.” Said the fat fellow.

“What? Nibu from Trivandrum. The skinny, curly haired guy.”

“I am sorry brother. Its only us in this room.”

I gaped each one of them with grief. None of them looked like Nibu.

Now fully understanding the situation and what an idiot I have been, I slowly walked away, went inside my room and locked myself in.

I took my beedi and lighted it. I was starving.