Chapter 21: chapter 21

17My tongue was yet to get accustomed to the taste of black tea. It was very difficult for me to drink tea without milk. Curfew was imposed on the city of Hyderabad. There was curfew in Secunderabad too for one or two days.The riots that broke out in the name of religion had not come to an end even after a month. It was widely discussed that behind the riots there was politics and the dismissal of the cabinet. Mr. Chenna Reddy was the Chief Minister then. It was widely believed that his political opponent Mr. Janardhan Reddy was fuelling the riots. Chenna Reddy had said that if the Prime Minister would give him permission, he would bring an end to the riots within a day. “I know whom to arrest to end the riots!” he had declared.The rioters were very particular that the number of Hindus murdered should equal that of the Muslims. With that aim people were killed in equal numbers on both sides. Murders were committed in different ways. Stabbing, piercing the pillion riders, cutting with a scythe, entering the houses in groups and throwing bombs were some of the ‘techniques’!A milkman was murdered in a rural area in a cruel way. A long scythe was tied into a two-wheeler and his neck was cut by riding that two-wheeler past him. Milkmen stopped their supply for two days in protest.In those days supply of milk in sachet was not in vogue. Milk powder tins and milk powder packets were fast disappearing from the shops. In a short time, milk powder was not available anywhere.I came out of my house when the curfew was relaxed. Wondering where milk powder would be available I walked past the second bazaar and came to the Secunderabad railway station. Most of the shops were closed. I thought that I should have walked in the opposite direction... Had I gone to the side where Keyes High school and the Marathi school were, some shops might have been kept open as they were thickly populated, I might have got some milk powder. There might have been a way to get milk powder!The Secunderabad railway station was almost empty. The few passengers who were there, were in a hurry, it seemed. The sound of the steaming train and that of its whistle gave some consolation.I was surprised to see the long queue in front of the public telephone booth. I doubted whether it was possible to distribute milk powder packets in public telephone booths.It took some time for me to realize that the long queue was to use the phone. That was a time when public telephone booths were a rarity. They were kept in railway stations and bus stands only. I ran my eyes over the long queue. it was stretching beyond the entrance of the railway station.One could read fear on the faces of the people who stood in the queue. With so much fear, could anyone talk to somebody on the other end, I asked myself. Who would console the agonising soul from the other end? Could tears alone give consolation? What maximum the gentleman (Or woman?) on the other end could say… Are all safe? Nobody dead? Was the house set on fire? Are there any of our relatives in the list of the dead, I thought.Some people in the queue had Deccan chronicle in their hands. As it was a local newspaper, it published all the important local news with supplements and special editions. Usually its fifth page was dedicated to local news. The local news was extended up to the eighth page now. The pictures of the murdered bodies, of stabbed faces, the picture of a lady whose nose was cut and the pictures of children whose hands and legs were mutilated filled one or two pages. Those who attempted to read the newspaper could not do so leisurely; they had to browse through fast.Could all the people in the queue have their turn within this one hour when the curfew was relaxed? Would they be driven back after the curfew was imposed again or would they themselves disperse? Would the agonised anger ready to burst on somebody at the other end go unspent today too? Would it burst out then, I asked myself.I went near the telephone booth and stood there. The man who was dialling was shivering with tension. If there was no answer from the other end he was not allowed to dial more than two times. Again, he had to go to the end of the queue and take his turn. When somebody talked from the other end, some left with some consolation and most with tears. The owner of the booth seized the receiver from the hands of such people as though that was not a place to cry through. He would extract an extra fee for crying, it seemed. Most of the cries were heart rending.Such cries might be due to the death of some near and dear ones in the riots. Or the cries might be expressions of joy that the dear ones were alive!The relaxation of curfew came in the end of one hour. A military vehicle came with a loud noise and stopped. The place was surrounded quickly by the police and the military personnel. The length of the queue became half.The people standing in the queue began to disperse slowly. There were gaps in the queue without men. It was something strange. As the army men came nearer and nearer, the queue vanished.As the armed personnel shouted, people started walking fast. Today also I had to drink black coffee or tea. I must learn to like it, I said to myself.