Chapter 4:

After the Egyptian pharaoh quit the stage, it was Anila's turn to lecture, but she proved to be briskier and to the point, giving just a brief but all-inclusive note on each client and their specific instructions to be followed.  Finishing the session by distributing cubicle numbers for each of us, the three-sided cabins which is where we will be seated during our work life for eight hours a day and six days a week, and with a "follow me" command which had an air of elegant superiority that contradicted the visual impression about her, Anila walked out.

It was when Amutha stood up and moved aside, that my eyes caught hold of the fair figure in white churidar, whose eyes were fixed in the direction of the glass door, which Anila had swung open few moments ago.

The staring big sparkling eyes were beautifully bordered with thick eyeliner... the pair of thin lips seemed to possess its natural hue .. with carefully banded straight hair that lay silent on the shoulders.. a simple golden droplet as earring.. lean stature that radiated silence and serenity all around... I stood there mesmerized.

"Interested bro?"

I awoke from frozen stance with Anwar's tap on shoulder.  With the smile of a fool and shunning the question away, I started to walk.  To his next comment of "she is beautiful", I told him, “then she suits you more”, the talks ending in a giggle from Maninder who overheard us.

I got my cubicle just under the air condition vent, near the carpeted central corridor.  The air-vent sent down waves of cold air which made me quiver in the already cold December night of Coimbatore.  Winter nights are warmer in coastal Kerala where I belong, as the warmer Arabian sea regulates the temperature at night.

I glanced across my row.  Maninder has found a place just next to me, Amutha being next.. eyes jumped over heads across the width of the large production floor as far as the white wall, on which a baby's picture asking for silence, was affixed.

"kisse doond rahe ho bhai.. woh mallu ladki?"  Maninder grinned.  The nosy neighbour wanted to know who I was scanning the place for.  It’s the second time in ten minutes that someone made fun of me on the same issue.  Hiding the embarrassment, I asked Maninder for Arul, indicating that my search was for him.

"He is sitting just behind you." was his answer.

Circling the chair quickly, I raised my hand to call Arul, but voice stayed inside and hand stayed in air ... it was not Arul but someone else sitting there facing away from me, with the bright light from the computer creating a halo around her head, in an otherwise dim-lit hall.

After few moments of being a statue, I slowly circled around and frowned at Maninder, saying "enough of jokes man," but deep inside, happiness frothed up as if from a shaken beer.

~~~~

"Anna.. do you drink?"

Raj asked me on a leisure day, as we both sat in the cemented courtyard, enjoying some laziness.  He too started calling me "anna" to which my protests fell on deaf ears.  "You stop first, I shall too" was his approach.  As I had no intention of diluting my respect for him, it was best to let him call whatever he wants.  By now, I have understood his adamant character, which never listened to anyone else but his own inner convictions.

"I have had drinks.. with dad.. he used to give me a little when he partied with his friends at home."

I had always wondered about the psychology or mental process behind fathers giving drinks to sons.  Perhaps it is an extended hand to train them for the wild future, enabling sons to make a choice in childhood itself about alcohol, a form of conditioned training.  Somehow it has worked for me, because I never was over-excited about the idea of drinking even in college days where same-aged youngsters toppled the college hostel upside down, over a bottle of rum.

"Oh anna.. your dad is a great guy. I once tried to have a sip from my dad's bottle, but was beaten until the stick broke..!"

Closing the newspaper that I was reading, I looked at him.  His eyes and thoughts were fixed on the neem tree a little away near the babool bush fence, having shed all its leaves and standing alone in the cold morning sun; the sun reflected against the little moisture in his eyes...

"In a way, that neem and I are same fated... all life juices dried up, alone, useless.."

I said "You have everyone, and everyone loves you.. just believe in yourself."

My words seemed to have flown above his head.  He stood up and walked towards the rear of the house, and turned and asked me to follow him.  It is a thorny forest behind the house, and he expertly guided me through them for some distance, to reach a small clearing where he knelt down near some plants.

"You brought me to show these marigold plants?" was my expression of dismay.

Laughing out loud, he declared.. "This is not marigold.!"

***

Chapter 3:

Trainee performance assessment came as a surprise to all.. !

In a batch of seventy trainees, the ten best performers in theory and practical are selected and sent to the production floor above.  As I had nothing else to do other than training, and rest of the batch was busy enjoying their youth, I was one among the selected ten, who walked up the steps to a dream world called production.

In a small glass-walled room named “powwow”, the ten members sat around a big oval table.  With a quick glance, I could see only two familiar faces, Arulmozhi and Maninder, but couldn’t see chewing gum near Arul.

“So she didn’t make it here.. is it?” was my impulsive question to Arul.

With a winked smile, he answered.  “Why man..?  Better she didn’t.. look around.”

It took a moment for the meaning of his words to seep in.  I slowly started to look for details around the table.  Noisy bangles and anklets clattered all around, with the thick aroma of jasmine filling the small room.  Six out of ten are women… loud talkative women..!

Generally Tamil women are loud.  I wondered if anyone had done any research on the relation between level of confidence of a person to the general decibel level of his or her voice.  The reason for Tamil women’s confidence must be the approach of the populace towards their women.  Even a newborn girl is respectfully called “Amma” which denotes mother, irrespective of the gender or age of the caller..!  It is no surprise that the girls grow strong and confident in this part of subcontinent.

But today, the noise made me a little uncomfortable in that small cabin.  Arul is enjoying the show.  Maninder is just sitting there wide eyed and open mouthed, not being able to digest the rich cocktail of two South Indian languages being thrown around.  He looked dazed.

It was then I noticed a considerable gap between two Tamil girls sitting to the right of me and talking to each.  There is someone seated between them.  Did my eyes catch the glimpse of a white shawl?

Due to the position of my chair, I couldn’t see beyond the wide statured girl sitting next to me.  Either I will have to stand up or sway my chair backwards, both of which will catch somebody’s attention.  It is better to wait.

An extremely lean girl who reminded me of a pencil, opened the glass door, peeped inside and went back.  She was the same one who announced in the beginning that the meeting will start once production manager arrives.  Arul sat to the left of me.  Near him sat the fourth man in the room.  I have seen him in training floor before but never bothered to know the name.  Circling the chair around, I extended a hand with a hello.

Thanks to Arul’s friendship, the inherent inferiority complex that I had carried all my life was fading away slowly, enabling me to take initiative in forming new relationships.  Even then, the fear of an unpredictable response or a rejection hung around, especially when the expected response was from another Malayalee.  But with a wide honest smile, I got a hand in return.  He introduced as Mr. Anwar from Alappuzha, Kerala.  As handshakes gave way to talks, he proved to be extremely friendly.  Being a medical representative, he was well versed with medical terminology.  As for his joining the company, that was the fun part.  He had gone to fish market on a Sunday, when he saw an advertisement banner on a nearby building and went and took the test, where he eventually cleared with flying colours.  His family couldn’t eat fish for lunch that day, but he got selected for a job in a multinational company.

Listening to both of us all this while, Arul laughed and said “I can understand Malayalam little bit..”  and we three laughed a little aloud.  Hearing us, poor Maninder also laughed, making us wonder why.

The glass door opened suddenly and entered the big boss, Santhosh Nair, followed by the pencil.  His face reminded of an Egyptian emperor who, amidst a hectic busy schedule of running a country, allowed some precious time for chit chat with his mortal subjects.  Even the movement of his eyebrows seemed artificial.  Expertly hiding the great pleasure of seeing everyone jumping on their feet as he entered, he told.. “No no.. please sit.  No formalities.”

Thus started the boring lecture, things that were taught a hundred times during training, about expected standards and conducts in production floor.  As yawns started to take rounds, one sentence caught everybody’s attention, declaring that the pencil girl, Anila, was actually our would-be team leader..!

“Okay.. we are done with instructions.  Now let’s break ice.  Please introduce yourself one by one.  You first.”  Santhosh Nair’s index finger pointed towards Maninder.

“I am Maninder from Mohali, Punjab”

As a response to the unexpected situation, adrenaline was doing its job and my heart started beating faster.  Next one was Anwar.

“I am Anwar from Kerala..”

Santhosh wanted to know the specific location in Kerala where he came from.  Alappuzha is also known as Aleppy in English from British times and is a common usage too.  In the total confusion, Anwar blurted out “Aleppizha… oh sorry Aleppy”

In a situation that can make only a genuine Malayalee laugh, my eardrums caught a feeble girlish laugh.  So, the white shawl is a Malayalee..!

 Arul introduced himself.  Santhosh knew Arul very well, as he being the only MBBS guy who took a wrong turn into this company and profession.  While they were talking to each, I was practicing my lines.  I shouldn’t blabber like Anwar.  I wouldn’t give her a chance to laugh at me.

“Yes sir.. what about you..?”

As I gathered courage and spoke my details out, he seemed least interested.  Without moving a muscle, he turned to the wide girl next to me.

“Amutha from Coimbatore.”

“Okay good.. now tell us about you young lady..”  Santhosh Nair turned and faced a point beyond Amutha now.

I strained my neck a bit to see his target, but Amutha filled my visual field.  I sharpened the ears and waited patiently for a sound, being careful to not miss even a breath.  Slowly, my eyes caught a fair face leaning forward, clearing the blockade of Amutha, as if to show me her face at last.  What a funny thought…  why should she show me ?  There are other three better guys sitting in the same row. 

Anyway, the fair face had a fairer voice, which fell as music in my ears.

“Sithara…  from Palakkad.”

***

Chapter 2:

The night shift ends at six in the morning.  As soon as clock strikes six, young lads will jump out of the office building and race towards their homes in smoke-tailed Suzuki Samurais and Shoguns but I had no choice but to use feet, to cover the two-kilometer stretch between office and accommodation.  The thought of buying a bike for transport never occurred even in the remotest dreams, as the monthly stipend during training was scarce enough to even meet the rent and food expenses.  Because of the same reason, the white trail of smoke left behind by flying two stroke bikes never created any feelings of desire, let alone despair.  Only when one possesses something valuable, he develops the greed for more.  Once the seed of desire is planted in mind, it grows uncontrollably, until it exhausts all the resources, leaving the man dry and barren.  Where have I read those lines? Perhaps in a book that is resting somewhere in a huge bookshelf of that big library building in hometown...

A strong black tea from Mariyamman Thunai hotel is the morning norm nowadays.  It helps to wade off the sleep drooping in the eyes, after an eventful night shift.  The black tea habit stuck with me for rest of life, except....

While sipping the lukewarm refreshing liquid, newly acquired knowledge from previous night came to mind, the prominent feeling being curiosity than fear.  Nothing had happened so far to create any fear about Raj.  He is always withdrawn to himself and mostly asleep, and while not asleep, just focuses on food or books.  Going to office is a choice that he makes, not his boss, and a warning letter is already in his credit, and with one more, he can pack his stuff.

Thoughts got cut reaching the bottom of the tea glass, spitting the tea dust which accidentally met with the tongue.  The hotel's credit book received one more entry, and I stepped out onto the road.  Smoke bikes are gone.  The long walk is through harvested corn fields, through the trodden single path towards sleep.  The path is a bit risky to be used at night.  From dogs to snakes, it might have everything that darkness hides; so, for night walks towards office, I usually take a detour via the main road, walking an extra one kilometer for safety.

As I walked, the occasional but familiar misty December fog waited away obediently in the periphery of my visible surroundings, as if hiding something behind those thorny tentacles of babool bush around the field.... and I quickened my pace.

As my steps crossed the small arched entrance labeled Burma colony, thoughts shifted to present.  A settlement built for the second world war Burmese refugees, most of the plots are owned by Tamilians now. Almost all houses being asbestos roofed, I and my "annas" were lucky to be settled under a concrete roof, albeit cost us a substantial portion of our meager stipends.  The two-bedroom pink-painted structure stood amidst a babool fenced patch of land, just hundred yards from the rusted arched entrance to the colony.. to one's right.

On its steps, sat Robert, sipping his morning tea as I walked into the cemented courtyard.  Both of them are in day shift, and today being Sunday, will be at home.

Seeing me, he asked with the same brotherly air he always throws.

"Did you have tea.. can I make one for you.?"

After returning a polite no, I glanced inside.  Raj is still asleep.

"Come.. sit here with me." Robert pointed to the steps.  As I sat there, pulling my shoes off, he told again.

"So did you check what Raj asked you yesterday.?"

Words got stuck in my throat.  How does he know about it? Seeing my wonderstruck face and open mouth, Robert continued as if to serve the answer himself.

"Raj told about your conversation yesterday.  His father had told me about his condition the very first day itself, but didn't want to scare you so kept it from you.  Now that you know, will tell you few more details."

I sat there listening like a child.  Real name is Raj Kumar, son of a Mumbai port officer, and spent a good deal of his schooling in boarding system.  As there was less parental control with lot of pocket money to spare, alcohol and some drugs became part of life, until it started to affect brain cells. After years of extensive treatments, he is back to normal but needs at least seven pills a day to keep his brain cells under control.

I intervened and asked.. "so what will happen if someone like you or me take that pill..?"

Without a hesitation, he answered. "Our brains cannot simply stand it.. these are high dose antipsychotics. You will just fall down and sleep for hours or even days.  Why do you ask..? got any plan to try?"

"No no.. simply asked." I threw my socks inside.

"Do you know? .. when the effect of the medicine wears off, he gets hallucination.. I have seen him sitting and talking alone to someone once..!"

I sat upright in a jolt.  "Who..?"

After enjoying a suspenseful silence, before standing up to leave, Robert told with a twisted smile... "A woman, that’s what he told.. I guess his love. Let me get ready for the Church."

I sat there on the steps alone, trying to grasp the volley of new information I had just gathered, wondering what is coming next.  When the time comes, should ask Raj himself about all these.

Even if it was in hallucination, Raj too had a girl to love and talk with..!

Robert also had someone waiting for him in hometown, who he wrote very long letters for.  As a single “Inland” was not sufficient for him to express his love, scores of white sheets were filled with almost half the ink of a pen, which then he would carefully tuck inside a post cover and carry to the post office, almost twice a week.  What a love..!

Talking about love, age and hormones had started to act inside me with more vigour, for a companion.  Everyday as I walked past the gate, on the neon lit footpath towards the office, numerous pairs of lovers crossed me in both directions, hand in hand.  How I wished for the girl from hometown to be with me, to hold my hands and walk along with me.. her curly oily hair would have turned bright orange under the beautiful neon sky.. why did she leave me?  But the very next moment, that feeling gave way to anger.  I shouldn’t have even thought about her.

***

Chapter 1:

Year 2000:  Coimbatore

The routine was the same.

Like every other day in the six-month training life, I walked towards the distant glimmer of lights which seemed to sway left and right synchronizing with my pace.  The vast unending harvested corn field with the dark soil beneath the feet gave little guiding light to move on, but the small pen-torch was doing its job well enough, opening a narrow tunnel of light for me to walk on.  With the slight December breeze making contact with sensitive young skin, heavy solitude hung around me, making the mind wanting and longing for a friend.. rather, a girlfriend.

From deep within, the wish for a female friend has been forcing itself out for past few weeks, especially since coming to this campus.  Everyone in office had an opposite gender friend; somehow, my slender dark silhouette was invisible to the female crowd out there.

Mind was regaining its normal peaceful self after an infatuated relation with a neighbour girl back in home town, which had ended with some sparks and cracks.  It was then this job opportunity came out of the blue and I decided to move two-hundred kilometers away from the circumstances that sometimes made a war with my peace.  It was a good move in every aspect, and the most relieved ones were parents, who lived a worried life seeing my constant depressed demeanour at home.  So, decision was made against an otherwise good academic future, in favor of an immediate job in Coimbatore, as a medical transcriptionist.  The post graduation course was scrapped, and bags were packed with not much of a thought.  The only priority was to escape into a mentally unpunishing weather, and the transition seemed to do the job.. almost.

It was a pretty big campus, built by the cotton industry tycoon named Swami from neighboring state, at the initial stages of IT revolution in India, converting around five hundred acres of corn and sugar cane fields into a beautiful IT campus.

I still remember the very first day of stepping inside the huge iron gate, on which M.G.I.S.L was written in big golden letters.  I stood there open-mouthed beside my dad, knowing little that what waited inside was even bigger; the huge white coloured one-acre spanning rectangular office building, the alcoves of which held my future.  Now, all those have become part of daily life.

The first real problem was arranging accommodation, which was solved by joining two similar fated keralites, both of them elder to me at least by a difference of five years.  Because of the same age difference, I started addressing them as “anna” which is a local slang for elder brother, mainly used in Tamil Nadu which is where we all were destined to settle for an unknown time into future.  Thus, Robert anna and Raj anna became part of my life.

Robert was a pure devotee of Jesus.  He was thrown out of his house for the sin of loving and marrying own cousin sister.  After losing his Job as a teacher, he decided to come in search of a better job here.  Whenever I have seen him at home, a string of beads in hand and a silent prayer on lips were his constant companion.

Raj.. was the serious one among the two.  About him, the first thing that caught my attention was the number of medicine pills he consumed every day before sleep.  Curiosity made me ask him what are those pills for, and Raj just extended an empty sachet and asked me to read the name of the drug written on it.

It read “Clozapine.”

Raj told “Okay.. now you go to office and refer in the drug dictionary tonight, and let me know in morning.”

Why couldn’t he just tell me straight, I thought.  Anyway, I decided to find it out that night, and I did.

The drug dictionary told “Clozapine – An antipsychotic drug taken for mental disorder Schizophrenia.”..!

Had never heard about schizophrenia in theory classes.  Google was just two years old and most of the search results ended up being incomplete or incoherent.  In the training floor, all the computers did not have Internet access too.  The only one which had Internet, was near the trainer who sat there as a watch dog.

Arulmozhi, who sat two cubicles away, was a half doctor.  A very knowledged but lazy guy who came to make some easy money, leaving few papers of his MBBS degree for later completion.  He is a sure shot to throw some light on schizophrenia, but the guy always moves around with a lean white girl who is stuck to him just like the chewing gum in his mouth.  I will have to wait till she moves away for some time.

One hour later, during the tea break, saw Arulmozhi ordering for a puffs and coffee in the snacks bar.  The chewing gum was nowhere to be seen.  Might have gone to the rest room.

My feeble “hi” fell in deaf ears.  Another “hi” might cost me my dignity if he doesn’t respond.  A malayalee guy who is brought up in regular surroundings does not get along in a metropolitan culture very easily, until he learns its specific rules.  Here, I had to be shameless or rather bold, ignoring the consequences of a rejection and focussing on the goal, that is to get an answer to my question, and so I went again..

“Hi Arul.. can I talk to you for a moment?”

He turned and with a big smile, which surprised me and instilled a gush of confidence, told..

“Hey man.. why not?  But what a surprise.. you really talk..!!  I have never seen you talk much to anybody.”

By then, his chewing gum came and stuck to him with a wide grin and added.

“What’s happening here boys?”

Thus started the midnight round table discussion, over a puffs and tea sponsored by them, clearing my doubts about schizophrenia.

Schizophrenia is what some people call “madness” in lay terms.  The subject loses ability to distinguish between real and unreal.  They see what others don’t see, they hear what others don’t hear, and sometimes they become aggressive too.  Urinating in bed, sleep walk, thoughts and talks that others cannot comprehend, oozing saliva from mouth are common symptoms.

The drugs like Clozapine are used to keep a control on and calm down an otherwise hyperactive brain.  More severe the disease is, more dosage of antipsychotics the patient will need to take.

As I sat silently there listening to the details, I was becoming a punctured balloon, slowly losing confidence.  Raj takes so many pills, which means his disease is severe.  What will happen if he runs out of medicine.

“What happened to you.. anything wrong?”  chewing gum asked.

“No. Saw a mention in a book and just wanted to clarify.”

I stood up to leave.  Head was revolving around the thoughts of going back to the same house tomorrow morning, where a schizophrenic patient was my roommate.

***