And a story begins part III

“I wake up in the morning

And I raise my weary head

I got an old coat for a pillow

And the earth was last night's bed

I don't know where I'm going

Only God knows where I've been

I'm a devil on the run

A six gun lover

A candle in the wind”

I always wake up with a song. Today it was Bon Jovi’s blaze of glory spinning in my head ever since I opened my eyes. On most days, the song vanishes after some time, while on some days, it remains the whole day. I don’t hum the song but it is there somewhere in my brain, playing itself out.

“I am going to be late for my tuition class”, I thought, as I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock.

Imphal, the capital of Manipur, the place where I was born some 16 summers/winters ago, is known for its tuition culture. Almost every student of every school of every class goes for a tuition class. Some before they go to school while some after the school hours and for some both before and after school. It appears that the school is just a hang out place whereas the real schooling or learning is at the teacher’s house in a private tuition class. So, in a way, almost all teachers are rich in this city. They have double income, first from the school and then the extra money from the private tuitions. Things are good for them.

I am also one of the many students who go to a teacher’s house to get a private lesson. Every single morning you can see a sea of students going for tuition classes. The timing starts from as early as 3AM during summers and 4AM during winters. You name a subject and you got a private tutor for that.

“OK, I have my pen and notebook. Let’s go” I told myself.

Winter season in Imphal is merciless. Riding a bicycle at 4AM in the morning during winters in Imphal is an adventure in itself. My class would have started by now and my teacher would not let me sit in the class. Still I rode my bike and reached the place.

“Get out, you are late” my teacher shouted.

I got out and waited for my friends to come out of the class.

“What was today’s lesson?” I asked when I met Tomba and Achao after they came out of the class.

“Nothing man, just another chapter in macro-economic theory” uttered Tomba.

“Guys, let’s go have some hot pooris.” Achao said.

Hot poori-sabji and tea is a very common breakfast in Manipur. Most places which sell breakfast in the morning are known by the owner’s name. These are not big joints; they are relatively very small, with 2-3 benches and tables. These are the places where the old folks will talk about politics and everything else with a sip of hot tea. These are the places where most information is shared among people. One such place was the Hotel Tampha, run by one guy called Tomcha, popularly known as Taton. He was very popular for the tea he served, which had a hint of ginger and bay leafs, and it would leave a nice after taste in your mouth.

“Let’s go to Taton’s place” Tomba said as he jumped onto his bicycle.

Taton’s place was about 4 kilometers from our tuition place. Three of us rode in tandem.

“Halt, halt, halt” an army man shouted from the road side.

The sight of an Indian army soldier in full combat gear is also another common sight in Imphal. They can check you in random and pretty much can do anything to you. If you are asked to stop you better stop.

“Kaha se aa rahe ho” the jawan asked us.

“Sir, tuition sir ke ghar se, keishamthong se” I replied.

“Hmm, Kaha jaa rahe ho? ID deekhao” he replied.

“Nagamapal, uske baad apne apne ghar” I replied again.

“Hmm student ke naam pe militancy karta hai? Agar tumme se koi bhi iss party ka hai toh khade ho jao, agar uss party ka hai toh baith jao” he said in a jiffy.

What? He is asking us to stand if we belong to this party and sit if we belong to that party. Dang, we belong to no one, what should we do then? Sleep?

All three of us started to lie down.

“Hey kya kar rahe ho?” he shouted again, while rest of his colleagues started to laugh at us.

They were also checking others coming from the other side of the road.

“Sir, hum kisi bhi party ko belong nahi karte hai, isiliye leit gaye” I replied.

We don’t belong to any party sir that is why we lied down.

“Shalla, majak karta hai? Chal uth aur nikal yaha se” he said.

It was our good luck that he let us go. We could have been interrogated for anything that they wanted to. This was just a time pass. There was something that struck all three of us though. They are always there in that area every single day and they see us every single day. They never asked us to stop but why today? Must be some time pass for them.

We reached the place where we wanted to go. Something was unusual that day. There were far too many army men in that area on that day. They are rarely seen there. What is going on? I thought as I parked my bicycle by the roadside next to the hotel. It was not that crowded but the army men outnumbered the civilians in that area, that early in the morning. Something was not right. The hotel was on the first floor of the building with a small shop which sold cigarettes right next to the hotel entrance on the ground floor.

I bought 2 cigarettes from that shop and started climbing the stairs which was after one more shop on the left side of this shop.

I was on the fifth step when a loud thud and a great force threw me onto the first flight of stairs. That sudden impact shook me a while, I turned around towards the stairs only to see a thick smoke rushing towards me. The only way out was to go up. I inched myself up slowly in the midst of the thick smoke. The thick smell of the explosives hitting my nose hard, all I can hear was people shouting and crying at the same time. Then the smell of human blood made me nauseate. I reached the main hotel room which was actually the balcony. It was spewed with pooris, glasses, clothes, and lot of other stuffs which was difficult to figure out what those were. Taton was injured along with two other customers who were having their morning tea. Tomba and Achao were not injured as they were sitting in the inner room. Within minutes everything was normal. The wailing and the crying stopped. All that remained was the ring in the ear.

The Army men who were present there were angry and started beating up everyone they could see. They were angry because two of their colleagues were hurt in the “attack”. The police soon came and the situation was under control. I was sitting at the balcony of the hotel when the police arrived. All I could see was the sea of blood which was splashed onto the road. It was first red, dark red, and then it got mixed with the soil and slowly it was turning into black. They were trying to figure out how many people were hurt and started cleaning up the place. Meanwhile a police officer came up to the first floor and asked if anyone was hurt. They took away the two injured customers for medical help. They asked us to stay for identification and verification, which is usual in such situations.

“Dude, are you alright?” Tomba asked me. He was frightened at what had just happened. His voice was shivering.

“I am ok man, just this ringing sound is there in the head” I replied, desperately trying to stay calm.

“Where were you when the blast happened?” Achao added.

“I was right at the steps when the bomb exploded; I was thrown onto the stairs.” I stammered for words. I just could not speak further. All that was running in my mind was the smoke and the blood that I saw firsthand.

“There is a dead body” Someone shouted.

People rushed in to see who it was. The police stopped everyone who was trying to get into the scene. The police then took out the body from inside the ground floor shop. It was the ground floor shop owner. Only half of his body was recovered, the rest was blown into smithereens.

I and the others on the first floor were able to see what was happening. The lifeless body was transferred to an ambulance which had rushed in. This was the man from whom I bought two cigarettes about 10 minutes ago. It would have been me if I was late by 15 seconds to get onto that stairs. I was 15 seconds early and that saved me. 15 seconds and my life could have been over. 15 seconds and I would not be speaking to you today.

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Day 60

I just typed 4 pages of something. I felt good. I finally was able to type something. Last night at the Zuri hotel after the drinks, Suhas and I came home and I just crashed. I was feeling good after a long time and slept well. I woke up this morning with a good feeling. I don’t know what but I can’t explain this feeling. All I wanted to do was to type something. Anything

“Oh you are awake early today” Suhas said as he came out of his room.

His room bedroom apartment has been my abode for the last 6 months or more. I sleep in the living room.

“Oh yeah, I woke up early and I typed” I replied.

“Oh really? Can I read?” he asked.

Sure.

“Dude, what is this? Whose story is it?” he asked.

“Do you like it?” I asked.

“This is good but whose story is it? Yours?” he said.

I just started in and I am writing a true fiction you see. I smiled.

“What is true fiction? Never heard of it” He retorted.

True story, true place, true incidents but fictional characters. That is my version of true fiction. Hee hee.