City Folks (BH:212)

March 1, 2012

While coming back from the fitness oriented perambulation yesterday, pinion riding on my cousin's Kinetic Honda, brakes as we neared a man who at first sight, for me, was a mad vagabond. Such men, with their long, shaggy hair, knotted beard and dirty clothes were regular triggers of nightmares in my childhood. There are far fewer of them in the city these days. I wondered if my cousin had stopped because he remembered something left behind at the temple. Instead, he started speaking to this "mad man".

"Enthokkeyund?" (What's going on?) asked my cousin

"Busy aanenu thonunnalo" (Looks like you are busy) came the reply in proper Malayalam. The man, despite the blackened old, worn out full sleeve white shirt and 'mundu' had clean teeth. It dawned on me that he didn't have the nauseating 'homeless people' smell that invariably assaults the nose along with such appearance. Back at A&M, there was a homeless guy who took our university bus sometimes. An old, wet-socks stench always came from the man and the backpack and bundle he cautiously carried around. 

"Swalpam" (a little) said my cousin nodding towards me since he was on his way to drop me back home.

"Appo pinne kanam" (then we will meet later) he said never making eye contact with me, though I was engrossed inspecting him in my surprise.

My cousin waved good bye. As soon as we got going, I let loose a barrage of questions. Who was he? How does my cousin know him? Is he mad? Why is he on the street like this?

Sunset over the verdant Thiruvananthapuram city as seen from Parakovil

"His story is worth a novel" said my cousin and gave me a quick overview. Some of the local newspapers have written about him. He used to be an officer at a nationalised bank in the city. He quit after having a difference of opinion with his higher-ups there. Since he hailed from a well off family, not having a job didn't bother him much. But soon he fell out with the family as well and left home. That was five or six years ago. Since he is well educated and according to my cousin, has excellent command of English, his friends and acquaintances from before still get him some translation and drafting assignments. The brings him just enough money for food. He doesn't beg in the public. Once in a while, he asks for a Rs. 50. Repayment is not to be expected.

Once night falls, he goes to the Thiruvananthapuram railway station. He buys a cheap, unreserved ticket to some random station in Kerala. This allows him to enter the platform. There he sleeps, either on one of the platform benches or in the waiting room. After he wakes up next morning, he cancels that ticket. He gets back what he paid except the Rs. 20 charge for cancellation. That amount, he considers the rent for sleeping in the platform.

I hope to learn more about this man and if possible talk to him soon. He is one of those rare individuals who can claim to be rightful inhabitants of this city without the corrupting influence of a home within it. Since he is not raving mad, conversations must be had!

Around 10pm last night, when our neighbors were coming back after attending a wedding reception, they noticed a mom and son walking in one of the colony's steets carrying two bulky plastic bags in each hand. The son looked like in his early teens and the mom was in her early 30s. By the time our neighbors realized that this was a despicable garbage dumping operation and turned around to confront the perpetrators, they were gone. Only the bags remained, abandoned next to a lamp post. Flies had already arrived at the scene. Rodents and stray dogs were to be expected soon. 

As much as I understand that folks, especially those with no yards, are being pushed to a corner by the disgusting, dysfunctional, corrupt city administration that continues to draw politcal mileage from the garbage problem that has been festering for four months now, I wish the mother hadn't made the son a party in this operation. 

That common delusion continues. From the politician who loots the nation to the government servant unabashedly taking bribes to the businessman who profits from destroying the environment to the mother who gets the son to help her dump garbage in front of other houses, the belief that with wealth thus amassed and filth disposed, their next generation is going to fare better. There is not a moment's reflection that it is the same exploited, emaciated, dirtied world that their offspring are bound to inhabit.