The Summer of '82 - Chapter 10

The entire village was in gloom for the rest of the day. The loudspeaker from the temple skipped the daily evening prayer, and the roads wore a deserted look. I walked down the empty road to Kannan’s house. I was angry with him, but I knew he would be heart broken hearing the news of Dasettans arrest. On the way to his home, i met Abdul, Hamsa the fisherman’s son. He was too small to pedal the oversized cycle, but he managed to do it in a very peculiar fashion without sitting on the seat. ‘Kannan is at the panchayat meeting. Everyone is angry. I think tomorrow will be a strike.’ he informed me after knowing where i was headed.

‘Wow, you mean all shops would be shut tomorrow.. A holiday??’

I could see Abdul was not happy. I was very happy. A holiday would mean everyone together at home, talking, playing and running around our uncles who otherwise would disappear for work every single morning and return late after their party meetings which ran till midnight. It would be like Vishu or Onam, when everybody was around. I was thrilled, but Abdul was not!

‘Yes, you can say that.. Its a holiday! I wonder if we will be able to sell the fish abbu will bring in from the seas today.’ he said as he put his leg through the triangular frame of the oversized cycle and started pedalling it down the sloping road. I looked at him disappearing into the curve thinking of what he had just said.

At the panchayat there was a lot of noise. There were many people gathered together, almost everyone in white shirts and white mundu’s sitting on the platform under the banyan tree. A mike was hoisted on it and grey bhopu speakers tied on bamboo poles everywhere spreading the noise in all directions.

‘Das is not a criminal. He is a martyr’ the man spoke full of fervor and anger. ‘He is not a criminal who has been arrested. He is a revolutionary, who fought for our freedom from the corrupt government who has got arrested. History has it, that revolutionary heroes are arrested and hung, but they are still alive in our hearts, inspiring millions... Das is our hero. And by being arrested, he has become one of those revolutionaries, who sacrificed the confines of his own comfort for the ideals that he believed in and the ideals that he saw our party believe in. Tomorrow, we shall dedicate a day to our new hero, Das. We shall show the government, that the power of the people is something they cannot ignore. Come let us stop everything tomorrow, to show the government, that they cannot silence the voice of the people!!!’ He roared into the mike. There was a thundering applause around, and slogans of SUFI zindabad, that rose as people arose from the ground. Dust billowed as huge ambassador cars drove out carrying the dignitaries out of the panchayat. I caught a glimpse of the man who spoke into the mike as he got into the car. His car had an orange rotating light on top of it and was escorted by gun wielding policemen.
What are you doing here? A voice came from behind. I turned around to see Sreeni ammaman behind.

‘I came here looking for Kannan’ i said.

‘Go back home and stay there’ he said with a firm voice. I turned around and walked down the road again away from the dispersing crowd. Suma was sitting out in the porch, stitching together little white flowers making a garland out of it for the evening pooja in her house.

Her mother came out looking fresh after a bath with a little brass lamp lit beautifully. She kept it in front of the door and started chanting some beautiful chants as she sat down next to Suma, and started tying up her hair.

I sat next to Sarla aunty as she recited the beautiful chants in a lyrical manner, the essence of the agarbatti spreading into the environment, purifying everything the aroma touched. Everything except Kannan’s anger. Kannan walked into his room and banged the door shut. His mother asked me with a shrug about the reason for his anger. I shrugged back indicating ‘i dont know’. I got up to leave. I looked at Suma, who smiled and bid me goodbye. I was at the gate when i heard a loud crash.

Turning back, i saw Sarla aunty getting up and running inside. I too ran inside. Sarla aunty was banging on Kannan’s door, asking him to open up. We could hear loud noises of breaking from inside. I shouted at Kannan, but the noise of the breaking objects drowned my shouts. Meanwhile, Suma had already called the neighbours. Two huge men decided the only way they could get in was by breaking the door. They ran towards the door and banged it. The door cracked. But the noises never ceased. The banged the door once more and it gave way from the frame of the door crashing down on the floor. When i looked inside the room, it was a horrifying scene. Kannan had a cricket bat in his hand and was banging it on every furniture in the room. His screams were unusual. One of the huge men went from behind and picked him up while the other ducked his blow and caught hold of his bat. He was violent, kicking his hand and legs in a vigorous fervor. As he was held from behind, he plunged his teeth into the mans arm and he let go. Kannan struggled free from him and ran towards the door, but his feet tripped on the broken door and he fell, when the other man pinned him down on his face.

Slowly, he calmed down, not being able to move himself under the enoromous weight of the huge neighbor. He tied him down with a thin towel, so that he could do no more damage. By the time he was tied, Kannan was already asleep. I looked around and saw his mother look at him in dread. She had collapsed seeing Kannan so violent. Suma hid herself behind the curtains. Her Ammamma was sobbing, sitting in the corner of the kitchen.

‘It would be better if you could call Sreekumaran. Just in case...’ the neighbor told Sarla aunty. She walked to the telephone that was kept next to the television set and she dialled. I went to have a close look at Kannan. He was deep asleep, and had sweat profusely. His room was in a mess. He had broken down the mirror, the bed. The steel cupboard had a huge dent, and the glass shutters of his shelf was shattered. I wondered what had happened to Kannan. Deep down i felt, the arrest of Das had something to do with all this. I walked down the road to my home, the road illuminated by the full moon that lit up the sky and the road, bathing the scenery in front of me in momotones of bluish grey. The crickets were singing, and an occasional croak of a frog echoed into the emptiness.