NOBODY LIGHTS A CANDLE
Anjali Deshpande
22
He was so restive, he found it tough to wait till the evening. Adhirath went out to first fetch his son from school on his motorcycle. Varun was thrilled to see him. Kept stopping every step of the way, calling out to his mates by name to say bye bye to them. Adhirath’s was moved to tears.
“Have you now shown everyone that you are riding back on a bike?” he said lifting the child on to the pillion. “Will you have almond milk?”
He drove to a nearby milk and paneer booth and bought a bottle of milk for the child. Having dropped him outside the house he sped away. Now it was beginning to get warm. Not only did his hair get tousled inside the helmet and he also began to sweat. The perspiration did not form a rivulet down his cheek yet but it did make him feel damp. The moment he reached the village road he took off his helmet. Who cares for rules in a village? Come to think of it, who cares for such things even in the city? Had someone even stopped him he would have told them he was in the force. Still, sometimes they had officers watching and had to be strict.
From a distance he saw some men running with lathis in their hands. Bharat was screaming something at them. He ran to his motorcycle when it stopped and said, “You have come at a good time. Watch the hunt. Ten eleven are already in the bag.”
Adhirath noticed then that knives were tied firmly to the head of lathis. Bharat picked up a pebble and threw it at a big bush of grass or what Adhirath now knew as jhund. A grey Hare leapt out and ran towards Bharat, paused and turned back at high speed and ran straight towards the hunters poised with their crude spears. The lathi swung in the air and tracing a trajectory like a javelin sailed towards the Hare and rammed into the neck of the animal. The small animal ran under his momentum for a short distance the javelin sticking out of his throat and then tumbled down. This is how people must have hunted in days gone by thought Adhirath and now this hunting with spear has been fashioned into a javelin throw and entered the Olympics as a sport. Adhirath had also played the sport in school. Then he had not known that it was a homage to the primitive hunter.
“All preparations have been made for the party,” said Bharat. Having picked up the animal that had gone quiet after its death throes and pulling it off the spear the hunter stuffed him in the loose cloth bag that looked like the bag of a fakir hanging from his shoulder and moved ahead to look for another unwary animal.
“You recognized him, didn’t you?” said Bharat to Adhir. “It is Nachchatar. He is a very good hunter. He is the one who hunts them for the pradhan. We have got permisan from the pardhan. It is like this that the animals belong to those to whom the village belongs. Agree, don’t you? Only villagers can hunt in their own territory. Whatever we kill today, we have to give a part to the pradhan. And a bottle too. Shall we go to the booze shop?” then noticing Adhirath’s expression he asked, “Are you feeling sick?”
Adhirath tried to laugh. “Left early in the morning. Ate a filthy bhatura.”
Bharat nodded in agreement. “Oil and ghee, you know it is no longer pure even in the village.”
One man had accepted another man’s claim to manhood and boosted his efforts to cover his weakness. What else is friendship?
The booze shop owner was dozing outside his shop.
“Why sethji, feeling sleepy?” Bharat asked him. Then turning to Adhirath he said, “He opens the shop at six in the morning. Is here till ten at night. Aren’t you?”
“Till eight,” the booze shop owner stood up. “Hunting is on I see. Struck some deal of some plot?”
“No deal,” said Bharat. “So tough nowadays. When the price of land goes up the number of buyers goes down. I have made a new friend. Who knows, he may get me a buyer.” He introduced Adhirath to Munnalal. “Thought I would throw him a proper village party. You can still digest a rabbit now. Soon it will be too hot to digest it. In the summers rabbits are hot food.”
“Last year Tillu ate it in the summers,” said Munnalal,. “Started such a nosebleed, just wouldn’t stop. Tillu’s mother says to me, shut the shop, it is a sin, selling booze, and the sin is visiting our son. You may want a full bottle today.”
“One of rum. If we need anything later we can get it later. On special days you do keep it open till nine or ten. In the city shops remain open till eleven.”
“Eight o’clock. After that Tillu comes to harass me…” Munnalal said entering his shop.
“Arre, what are you saying. On the day of Holi it was open for so long…”
“I had downed the shutter,” Munnalal said, “Now you know if pardhanji comes you may have to even break open the lock if necessary. That too because he is not our pardhanji. Now the pradhan of the neighbouring village you know is a double burden, one he is a pradhan, on top of it he is a guest.”
“That day pardhanji had a lot to drink. Told me. Now I have to give him a bottle, will give the same one, which one was it?”
“Bhisky. That too Gilby.”
“Oh my, I shouldn’t have asked. It means getting someone to loot my pocket,” said Bharat putting his hand in his pocket. “Ok, give that Gilby. And one rum.”
Adhirath began to feel guilty watching him blow up so much money but he was in no position to share the expenses. Even then he took out his wallet.
“Keep it in. You can get robbed here too nowadays,” Bharat said to him. “I hope pardhanji does not come at night for another bottle. I can afford only this one bottle.”
As they passed by the Sunny Hair Ishtylist shop Bharat cried out to the owner loudly, “How are you Sunny? All well? Do some styling of my friend’s hair too. Look at him, how he is growing his hair, like some girl. Come over to Nachchatar’s.”
The bottles would not fit in the box attached to the motorcycle so Bharat held the bag with the bottles between Adhirath’s back and his abdomen and said leaning close to Adhir, “That day Pardhanji maust have taken this very road. After nine at night. Must not have been alone. That former sarpanch. They are always together. Like twins.”
Getting off the bike Adhirath asked him, “Why? Don’t they have a car?”
“They do. But it is like this, an old man can’t learn to ride a horse. Agree? Just look what an important thing I have said. The boys may have already been passed out.”
Adhirath swallowed the information. This was only salt. The meat was served only at night. A man was grinding garlic and chillies on a grinding stone. Sticks piled in a makeshift stove of bricks were being lit. The hares had been skinned and chopped and the pieces were heaped on a tray, who knows where their skins were. Adhirath walked away from all this bustle to stroll in the fields and soon Bharat came to call him. “Feeling nice? Pure air, pure water. But you have work to do.” Adhirath burst out laughing. Well, it was not his duty. He could always tell Ramwati all that she needed to know by asking Nitesh.
When the booze began to flow tongues began to wag. First he and Bharat were served drinks in glasses. Both of them sat on a cot. The farm on which Nachchatar rented one of a long row of rooms was a small one, and all the tenants gathered around them. There were some others too. All of them were talking at the same time.
email: anjalides@gmail.com
*****
