Transition - Part 1

I was on my way back from vacation, cozy in my seat, listening songs on my phone, when I first met her. She was the only other girl in the compartment. In addition she was pretty and spoke my language. May be this trip’s not going to be that lame and depressing as I thought.  However I did note that she was having her shields up - reading John Grisham’s “The confession”, clutching her bag and seemed genuinely scared – probably traveling alone for the first time. It was when the bag she had on so dearly, had to be put down for raising the middle berth, I noticed the jingle noise it made inside, that I could make out of only one thing – ‘Jewelry inside’. I tried the odds – South Indian pretty girl traveling alone with jewels. Provided the conservative background she is from; most probably running away from home, may be even from her wedding.  Though not much of a helping brother or a crying shoulder, I had to know her story. It’s not every day that you see a runaway bride.

Our formal introduction had been done just minutes ago, and she’s not much of a talkative type I guess.  Also, I was unable to think of hardly any common topics at all. She seemed uninterested in movies, politics or news – the only things in the world I can discuss for say, at least 5 minutes. To break the ice, I had to start telling her events I had been through last night, before I boarded this train, for it had been a pretty exciting and crazy night – and she listened all ears.

It all started as a regular get together party of us 4 friends. We’d been close friends from college and practically spent 4 years with each other, rather than at the college attending lectures. Pretty much the same story of the majority in college I guess. Booze, bikes and breaking rules and other stuff. Gymmy was the funny one, Deepu was the daredevil and Riyas (Bullet) the clean-decent type while I had to be a bit studious along with my craziness (blame it on the fear of future). Even though we were seemingly inseparable then, after college, when I got a job away from home, our get-together were restricted only to when I had a vacation. And this time, I could tell Gymmy was down. He was not that good with the studies, but had eventually cleared all the papers, and was planning to join an MBA course.  After the initial round of drinks, we came to know his issue – He believed a lecturer from college (Roy) and convinced his dad to remit 2 lakhs to him as advance for admissions in a reputed institute in Tamil Nadu. As this had all been done since last 4 months, he was finally losing hope and patience as he was fed up with the stupid reasons the guy was citing and by his constant false assurances to not to worry and that ‘he will take care’. And on the other side, his father was also blaming and scolding him all day, for this mistake. 3 rounds down and we had a plan. To beat Roy up and get some of the money back at least. It’s high time that Roy should know that he is messing with the wrong people. I guess that’s one good thing with alcohol. It gives you courage and makes you creative with stupid ideas. We got on our bikes and rode to Roy’s home. Gymmy called him out and asked when he would finally confirm with his admission. He, as usual was starting to say – ‘I am taking care of it Gymm..’ and Gymmy cut him off by saying ‘No worries for me, Roy. We will take care now’ and grabbed him by collar. Roy instantly judged our intentions as the scene was getting ugly. He begged us to give him a day’s time more to get things right and was reduced to tears. As he seemed convincing enough now, Gymmy left hold of his collar and gave him a warning to not make us come back. We were walking back to our bikes when Gymmy’s dad called him in his mobile, scolding him to stop roaming wastefully and to be back at home instantly. He just replied – “I am coming back soon” and disconnected.

Driving after drinking is always a bad idea. For if you could get into an accident, or be caught by the police. Also if you are low on cash, that could mean a night in jail as well as tarnishing the family name (‘Nobody in our family has ever stepped foot in a police station’ is a common effective line – though extremely cinematic). Scolding by parents and police is another advantage. That’s the reason when a police SI waved us to stop at a checkpoint; we drove past him at full throttle. Bad luck ensued, with him tailing us in his bike in a chase. I think mostly every where in the world, when a chase ends in bust, the policeman asks for the license first. However in Kerala, if you are busted, a tight slap in the face is the first response from police. And the force of the slap is directly in proportional with the amount of alcohol content in you. This is nothing personal, and is irrespective of the cast, creed or social status of the violator or the post of the policeman. It’s like an unwritten rule for correction in IPC for Kerala police. But like the other side of the coin, evading tactics are more sophisticated here, than anywhere else. One of which is relevant and we are well-acquainted in this scenario, is the divide and confuse rule. Now, I was in my bike, with Bullet behind me and Deepu and Gymmy were driving their own bikes. As we 3 were driving parallel, we decided to split up at the forthcoming Pitchu Iyer junction. The second decision was to where each of us will turn to. Gymmy had to turn right from Pitchu Iyer Jn, as his home was that way and his father was already waiting. And even if he was followed, in the worst case, it’s impossible to even get to him on that route, as his by-route is smaller, dark and he has 10 years of hard code rash driving experience in there. Now left were me and Deepu – and we had no priorities, for we had to eventually make a turn back somewhere, even if we selected either of the 2 roads. However I chose the straight road, for I had a Pulsar which powerful than Deepu’s Splendor (of his dad). I figured the police will pursue the guy going straight, as there is no need to slow down. I also decided to take police on my tail, since it’s easier to shake him off, as I had this power advantage. I eased off to get slightly close to the police bike to lure him into chase me and waved the others off. However my plans and math took a blow, when Bullet told me that the police bike went after Deepu. From my rear view mirror, I saw the blinking lights turn left and be out of my sight. Easing off the throttle, we decided to go to the beach for cooling us and the bike off. We were still a little high from all the drinking and needed some time, before both of us can eventually head back home.

I knew about Bullet’s love story. And not just me, the entire college knew their love story. She was probably the only person who called Bullet by his real name – Riyas in the entire college. How he got the name? It’s a pretty funny story, but we will come back to that. I will spare you of the boring details of their love story, but let’s just say it’s only fair that a dashing junior girl will fall in love with a decent and clean senior boy, for both are seriously endangered species. And since they were traveling by the same college bus, it’s only a matter of time before they were eventually together. And they were pretty serious too, unlike their counterparts, to the extent that when the degree was done, Bullet traveled with her to her home for asking permission of her parents’  for giving him her hand in marriage. It’s another thing that they insulted him for the trivial reason that their religions were not matching and he was yet to find a job. Serious couples are also practical - that’s why Bullet went to Dubai, worked extra hard to get a good job, had some savings and was back now – to get married to his one true love. But sitting in the beach, he told me that even now, her family was not agreeing to their marriage. And I convinced him, then and there, that if he needs to get married to her, he should elope. And now – more than ever, since they have a livelihood, and the girl’s parents are being irrational. He got convinced faster than I thought and wanted to have her run with him, now. And since I had to go back the other day, he told me that he will go alone this time, and we rented an Esteem car from the neighboring car rentals – for the fact that it was a long journey – around 4 hours + to Thrissur by road and small car may not be enough. I gave him my credit cards and some cash I had then, for travel and other expenses. I convinced myself that he was in driving conditions and saw him driving away – to his future. I felt a lump in my throat, as this was a huge decision, probably the first one of which I am an integral part of. I hoped for the best and came back. It was already 2 AM when I reached home. Got a little scolding from dad and mom for being so carefree, since I have to leave by the 9 AM train and there is barely some time to sleep. I felt a chill realizing what would had happened if the police had caught me before and locked me up.

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you? This story you’re telling me – It’s not real, right?” Was her first response to my story. I asked her “Why do you think so?” And she said “It’s impossible to believe that all those can happen in a single night.” I told her it was her choice to whether or not to believe my story or believe that these are separate events that I might be joining together. Yet she was curious of what had happened later on. ‘Did Gymmy get his Admission or at least his money back?’ ‘Did Deepu get caught?’ and most importantly ‘What happened to Bullet’s story?’ I had no idea. But my throat was dry and I had to have a tea. I stopped the next tea vendor that came and offered her too – ‘Tea?’