The Hometown - 12 - 13 books and stories free download online pdf in English

The Hometown - 12 - 13

The

Hometown

Ssandeep B Teraiya

DEDICATION

I am dedicating this book to my lovely parents and my whole family.

Thank you so much for your support.

Love you all.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Heartfelt Thanks to my wife Poonam, for keeping me motivated.

And

Thank you Dr. Sushma Gupta, for all your support.

सर्वतीर्थमयी माता सर्वदेवमयः पिता ..!!मातरं पितरं तस्मात् सर्वयत्नेन पूजयेत्..!!

To get the same virtues as one would, on visiting all holy places, all he has to do is, revere his mother.

Father is an embodiment of all the deities themselves.

They are the sole cause of us being here in this world today. It is hard to imagine one's life without them, their nurture and care. Parents constantly strive to provide the best that they could possibly give, for their children at all times.

There is no well wisher better than parents!

Chapter 12: Back to A’bad

I left Porbandar again with more sad memories of my mom and was very upset with Papa and Deepak. I thought whatever happened, happened because of him. I left Porbandar to meet him and I wanted to kill him.

But it was not in my nature. I knew if I did such things, my mom would be very sad up there in heaven. But I was not going to forgive him anyway. I realized that whatever happened is just because of money. If the money was there, everything would be easy. So I had decided to earn good money, but I had to start from somewhere. Somehow I reached Ahmadabad via train without a ticket. I saw the same policeman there at the station that checked my bag when I came to Ahmedabad. I was again very angry. I remembered all that and I went there. “Sir, please check my bags,” I said.

“Why? Are we your servants?” the policeman at the railway station asked me.

“You did last time, but you did not get anything. Maybe this time you will get something. Please check,” I said.

He pushed me away, “Get out of the station, you mad, beggar. Go away from here,” the policeman said.

“Yes, I am mad, and you are one of them who made me mad,” I said.

A policeman looked me top to bottom, my dirty clothes, with bare legs, fully bearded, stinking...

He ignored me and told me to leave the place.

Everyone thought that I was mad, and maybe they were right, but I was thinking about money. I was not worried about my looks. I asked people to give me work outside the station, but I didn’t get any. I walked here and there. There was one construction going on; there were many laborers. I asked them, requested them, but there was no work for me. I sat there the whole day. I slept there in the raw building on sand and stone. A couple was there who made a small room with bricks and they were supposed to take care of the site at night. The man came to me and asked me to go from there. His name was Haribhai. I told him about my last few days and he allowed me to sleep there and he gave me food too. The next morning, he helped me to enter into the labor team too.

I started working there. I was supposed to carry bricks all the day, and I was so broken from inside that I could not feel my outer injuries or rest. I was thinking about my mother and was just carrying bricks from one place to the first floor and then second. All were looking at me. I was working like a mad man, but I just wanted to get tired and I wanted sleep, as last night I was not able to sleep. The whole night my mom came in a dream. The whole night I cried in the freezing cold.

I was sitting there on the sand; Haribhai came and sat there with me, with some bad stinking drink. I came to know later that that was “Desi Daaru.” He offered me, and I refused.

“Who gave you this?” I asked.

“I purchased from one of the labor leaders. His name is Kaalubhai. He provides to all of us here on the site, and he is having many sites in Ahmedabad. He delivers to all sites and earns good money,” Haribhai said.

“How much do you spent in a month on this?” I asked.

“I buy this at Rs.100 per litter bag. I need 10 bags in a month almost,” Haribhai said.

“I want to meet Kaalubhai. Is it possible?” I asked.

“What for?” Haribhai asked.

“Business,” I said.

.

“Hello Kaalubhai,” I said. Kaalubhai was in his early forties, 6 feet tall, with a well built, healthy body, a complete white beard. He was wearing a long black Kurta. He was like some villain in a Bollywood movie.

“Hello, Bolo. What do you want?” Kaalubhai asked with his heavy voice.

Haribhai introduced me to Kaalubhai, and told my story. Kaalubhai was touched by what happened to me in the last month. He was a much kinder person than he looked.

“You are educated. Why do you want to work with me in this illegal business?” Kaalubhai asked.

“I do not care about any illegal or legal things now; I just want to earn lots of money, anyhow. And that is possible only in your business,” I said.

“See brother, it’s not easy, very risky these days,” Kaalubhai said.

“My life is only risk Kaalubhai; I am ready to take any risk,” I said.

“I doubt that you can do this business, my friend,” Kaalubhai said.

“Tell me how to prove myself for this business.” I said.

“See, I am doing business of local made Desi Daaru. I have many clients who are asking for English. I have contacts here who is selling English, but there is no margin left if I do business with them. So I am looking for a proper source to get bottles from another state. Now, if you bring a single bottle from another state, I will give you not only a job, but partnership in the English bottle business. Can you do this?” Kaalubhai asked.

I accepted his challenge. I said “Okay, tell me when you want it?”

“Great! I will provide you with money for this trip. You choose the date,” Kaalubhai said.

“Give me three days to plan my trip,” I said.

“I don’t mind,” Kaalubhai said

We both shook hands.

.

The next three days I studied the railway station. I sat there for hours and hours and was checking every time the trains came. How did the police check the bags and which policemen were there? What are the other ways to the exit? I noticed it was a bit tough, but I knew what I needed to do. I left for Mumbai with return tickets and reached there early in the morning via Saurastra mail. I rested at the station, got fresh there, had tea and Vada Pav. Kaalubhai gave me enough money for all my food and other expenses. It was around 11am; I went outside of Borriwali station and started to search for a wine shop. It was not far; I bought one bottle of whiskey, roamed the nearby areas and had lunch outside. I went inside the railway station and slept in the waiting area, got my train in the evening, and reached Ahmedabad in the morning. I started walking towards the main exit gate. There were three policemen standing there to check the bags. I walked towards them.

“Sir, please check me,” I said.

“You are stupid, go away! How many times have I told you to not to come into the station,” He held my hand, pulled me towards the main exit gate, and threw me outside.

That was the first time I had success getting liquor in the Gujarat.

Kaalubhai was waiting at a two wheeler parking area opposite the main gates; He was sitting on his old Bajaj, with Bidi in hand.

“So, what happen? Mr. Karan, I told you. It's not easy. I am sure you could not bring a bottle,” Kaalubhai said. “I saw you. You came from the main gate, and that means you passed many policemen who were checking everyone. It would be impossible to come clean in front of their eyes.”

I unzipped the bag, and told him to look inside; he saw inside. His eyes and mouth were wide open. He threw his Bidi aside, and looked at me.

“How is this possible? I can't believe my eyes,” Kaalubhai said.

“Let's go home first,” I said. I zipped the bag again, and sat on his Bajaj back seat. He burned one more Bidi; held it between the teeth, and kicked Bajaj to start it.

A few minutes later, we were at that construction site. Haribhai and his wife were busy with their work, and we went inside their small hut kind of house.

I explained everything to Kaalubhai, about my first, second and third visit to Ahmedabad at the railway station and how the policeman checked me. By now, I found Kaalubhai was a good guy. He told me not to worry about my life now. “I am with you. We will both make money if you use your smart mind in this business, we both can do better. I am not educated and not even smart; I just sell Desi Daaru to these laborers and earn a couple of thousand a day. But in Desi Daaru there is a very big risk, sometimes people die with Desi, sometimes it’s not Daaru but its poison. But if you can get English Daaru, then I will stop selling Desi Daaru. I know many people here who sell English Daaru, but they keep their cut and if I add my cut, then the client will not buy from me as it will be expensive.”

“I understand and I am with you. But I do not like cheaters, if you want to earn more money you need to be honest with me,” I said.

“Kaalubhai has never cheated anyone” he said.

In between all these things and development, I was missing my mother. I know she would be feeling sad about my business, but I did not want to look back. Everything happened just because of money. Sometimes I used to apologize to mom at night and sleep. Kaalubhai had arranged a small room in his area. It was a kind of slum areas, tiny streets, no street lights, bulb outside few home was max, water barrels outside each home, small handmade gutters, and ropes for cloth drying. For me, it was ok as now all these things did not bother me. After the death of my mom, everything else was meaningless to me. All I knew was that I wanted to earn more money and I would go to my dad and he would accept me again. I could not give luxuries to my mom, but I wanted to give them to my dad now. So I was ok to live anywhere, eat anything and work anything.

.

Chapter 13: Revenge

We both started to work on our business. First, we did a good survey of exiting sellers in Ahmedabad and the rates of each bottle. Then we all decided to bring in the first lot of liquor. We made a list of running products. First, we wanted to buy only those high demand hot bottles, so that we could sell them easily. There were two main brands in first order, Royal Stage and Signature. We decided to buy at least 10 bottles of each. As per the earlier plan, we both went to the railway station the day before my business trip. We saw that same policeman there, so we decided to stick to our plan A for now. There was no Plan B, but we knew that we had to find a plan B soon.

I went to Mumbai on the same train, went to same wine shop, and returned on the same train. I did everything the same as I did in my demo trip. I reached Ahmadabad, walked towards the main exit gate, and there were two policemen, but the one I was expecting, was not there. Now that was a twist. I stood there; everyone was looking at me as I was dressed like some beggar, mad guy, with a beard. I was thinking about how to leave from here; at every gate there were policemen. I decided to sit somewhere on the platform to wait for that particular policeman with whom I could do that drama, but those two new policemen saw me, and called me. I was worried, but I had no other option. I started walking towards them and both of them walked towards me. I had somehow maintained my mad guy attitude.

I sat on the floor with my legs wide open and kept my bag in between my legs. I had to open my bag. Zip, I started to unzip it slowly. I had kept the clothes on top of the bottles. One of the policemen banded lower was about to check my bag, but the other policeman recognized me and abused me. He said that I was the same mad guy. They should leave me, not waste any time.

And they left me saying “Go outside,” with some abusing words.

I came out from the main gate. It meant we were safe, secure and successful. This time, Kaalubhai ran towards me with happiness on his face and hugged me. That brought a smile to my face too, after such a long time.

We reached my place and kept all the bottles in a safe place; Kaalubhai started drinking during the daytime. He used to drink every night in my room, but today he was very happy. He thought I was caught since I took such a long time to come out of the station. He offered me to drink and that was the first time I drank with him. That led us to drink every day in the morning or the night. This was how we started our business, and within a few months, we had gotten many contacts of big suppliers and even police officers. Our business was running very well now. In a year, I had shifted to 1bhk flat on rent, and bought bike. In those days, I forgot everything. I was just focusing on making money. In between, I used to cry at night when thinking about my Porbandar life, but in the morning, I used to make my mind again focus on money. We used to sell at a Navaratri function with our Maruti van. We used to give service for home delivery with all kinds of biting options.

By the year 2002, we started getting calls for orders day and night. First, we both used to go for home delivery. Later, we kept 3 boys for home delivery, we had all the brands of all kinds of alcohol. After a couple of years, we were among the biggest suppliers. We used to get liquor in bulk from another state and we used to give commission to each officer of city and states. Sometimes, if officers asked for the bottle, I myself used to go for delivery and sometimes I drank with them too. I used these contacts a lot.

Once Kaalubhai and I were waiting for our car and driver near the railway station. We were both drunk. I remembered my auto driver fight. I got angry.

“Kaalubhai, I need to find that auto driver who slapped me and took my money long-ago,” I said.

“Why find him now?” Kaalubhai asked.

“Revenge,” I said.

“Are you sure? You drank too much today,” Kaalubhai said.

“Whatever. I want to take revenge today. Let's find him,” I said.

“Kaalubhai said “Okay, let’s do it.”

I was sure that he would be somewhere there at the auto stand near the railway station from where I took an auto that day. I describe how he looked and that there was a huge bold font “Don” written behind his auto with Amitabh Bachchan’s photo.

We searched every auto there and then we decided to wait at the main gate of the Kalupur railway station as most autos would pass from there. We were searching for that auto for two hours, but did not find it. Kaalubhai got tired and bored.

“Let's go Karan. We will find him some other time.

I said “No. I want to meet him today anyhow.”

After a few more minutes we found that auto, finally.

We went there and asked him to drop us to Bopal area, which is very far from the railway station.

We talked like we were new in Ahmedabad, and we didn’t know how far it was?

He said “Don’t worry Saab. I will use short cuts so that we can reach there easily.”

We said “Thanks,” for his kindness.

After some 20 minutes we were out of the city.

‘Please stop here on the side,” I said.

“Why? What has happened Saab? Bopal is still far from here,” the auto driver said.

Kaalubhai slapped him on his head from behind while he was driving.

“Do as we say, you motherfucker,” I said.

He parked the auto and asked “What is going on? What’s wrong?”

“We’ll tell you what’s wrong. Come out from the auto,” Kaalubhai said.

Kaalubhai held his shirt from the collar and pulled him outside. I was in the back seat and I pulled my small vodka bottle from my pocket, had large ship, and went outside.

“You remember me?” I asked.

“No, I don’t. Why?” the auto driver asked.

I got one cigarette from the box, burned it, had a puff, and let it out on his face. He closed his eyes, and I slapped him twice. “You *****, don’t you remember me?”

I punched his face. I kicked him on his penis with my knee. He bent himself over in pain. Kaalubhai held both his hands from behind and I told him how he robbed me on S. G. Highway few years back. He remembered and said sorry at least twenty times.

I told him that in the future if I still felt the need to kick you, I would find him again. My revenge was not over yet.

We damaged his auto and let him go. I was feeling good. I drank the rest of vodka and we called our driver to come pick us up from that spot.

We were earning like hell. I had saved lots of money by now and I had brought 2bhk flats, a car, expensive watches, shoes, branded clothes. I had everything now, but still it was not enough. My hunger for money was growing like hell. Many times, I thought to visit Porbandar to meet you and dad. Once I left for Porbandar with my car, but I took a U-turn from the highway and tried to get help from whiskey as I was missing my mom a lot. I cried and drank the whole night at my flat. I used to live alone. I could never call there, nor visit Porbandar as somewhere from inside I had started to hate my hometown and I was angry at my dad too. He smoked all his life and mother died, because of him too. I decided to never go back there and I would live happily here. I decided to forget everything and to move ahead in life with more and more money. The days were going good. My lifestyle had changed. I used to wake up at 11; I had servants at home for cleaning and making food. I had invested in many projects and I earned money from everything. Kaalubhai also had become a good businessman, but still our main business was to sell. We are more professional. We had managers who knew how to manage it all, and we had accountants who kept all the details of all the earnings. We were happy. Kaalubhai used to come to my flat and we used to drink at my place every day. Sometimes we talked about our old days of station and drinking in that slum room. At the age of 30, I had become rich enough to spend money, as much as I wanted. We used to go to the movies and out for dinners. Kaalubhai used to try to force me to get married, and I used to tell him that no, I didn’t want to get married. I wanted to go somewhere far from everything. I wanted to just walk away one day to nowhere, wanted to see each city, wanted to sleep at farms, wanted to go to jungles, wanted to go to the Himalayas. I wanted to climb mountains and get lost in nature. And I would not come back.

Kaalubhai said “You are mad.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I want to go away from these so called good human beings. It's my childhood dream anyway. One day I will do it, as soon as I get free from my pending responsibilities.”

“What is your responsibility? You are alone. You don’t have a family now, and there are no responsibilities that you have,” Kaalubhai said.

“I do not know, but I still feel that there is something left,” I said.

“By the way Kaalubhai, ask our boys if anyone is going for a delivery on the 4th floor in one of the old flats near Vastrapur Lake,” I said.

“No, we don’t have a client there. Why are you asking?” Kaalubhai said.

“I want to send a policeman there for the police to raid,” I said.

“Oh, are you talking about that flat where you stayed for one month? You want Deepak to get caught by the police, right?” Kaalubhai guessed it right.

“Yes. If he is not our client, then send a bottle there as a gift from me.”

One of our boys went there with a gift wrapped bottle.

“Hello sir, this is a gift for you. Mr. Karan Joshi from Porbandar sent this to you,” The boy said after he confirmed that he was Deepak.

“What? Karan sent a gift to me? That chu*** is still a chu***?” Deepak said and laughed. I heard all this from outside his flat, deliver boy left from there. After a few minutes, the police came with a photographer as I had told them to bring one. The photographer was with him and a news reporter.

Deepak opened the door again and the policeman pushed him inside and entered in his flat. He searched and found my gifted bottle, as well as some other old bottles. The news reporter took photos and other details. Finally, I entered into the flat with a cigarette in my mouth.

“So, Deepak how was the gift? Did you like it?” I asked. “Now Deepak your parents will know everything about you. You told my dad that I was in jail. My mother died because of you. You Bh****.”

Deepak could only cry, and say “Sorry.”

.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ssandeep B Teraiya is a Bcom LLB by education, a wedding planner by profession and now an author by passion. Born and raised in Porbandar, Gujarat and now settled in Rajkot.

Email: Thessandeep@gmail.com