Chapter 25: chapter 25

21From places like Theni and Chinnalapatti in the south Tamil Nadu, some two hundred families had migrated and settled in Secunderabad with cloth bundles to sell clothes. They were widely spread in places like Moul-Ali, Sitaphalmandi and the Cantonment. On a bicycle theywould go around the villages surrounding Secundearbad. Malligarjunan belonged to Chinnalapatti. He had wasted three years after completing his degree in doing odd jobs. He had been searching for some job. He was ready to become an accountant or grocer or yarn merchant in Tirupur.He took the prediction in his horoscope quite jokingly that he would have a job far away from home! But those words had come true when a distant relative of his living in Hyderabad had invited him to come over there and seek a job. “I had a big, colourful dream! I took the words ‘away from home’ to mean ‘abroad’. As I was afraid about the expenses to get a passport, I ditched my dream. Still the words in the horoscope were gnawing me. Perhaps, the prediction meant that I would come to Hyderabad which is also away from my native place,” he told me.The cloth merchants would have no assistants. Even if somebody volunteered himself as an assistant, they would consider him a thorn in the throat! They would feel that he had come to share his income. So, mostly they would avoid keeping assistants.One of Malligarjunan’s maternal uncles was in Sitaphal mandi. Pinning his hopes on him, he had come there. He had brought his mother with him. He had left his father under his elder brother’s care and had brought his mother to prepare food for him. His maternal uncle was kind enough to take him as his assistant.Malligarjunan was very much attracted by Hyderabad in the beginning. Pani puri, Iranian Masala Tea, biriyani. Oh! He was relishing them like anything! He had a good taste for food. He liked very much the green peas and the dhal which were in the smashed potato dish. He also liked the hot Iranian tea in the cup which he had to take sip by sip, slowly blowing the air on it. About the biriyani- what’s there to say- it was like manna to him. For a few days, he was losing himself in the city’s attractions- The Clock Tower Park, Mahatma Gandhi Road, Tank Bund, Indira Park, Birla Mandir, Charminar and so on.Maliigarjunan’s uncle’s customers mostly lived in Secunderabad Cantonment and the villages surrounding it. He did not like the dirty koshas and the torn purdahs. He was compelled, because of his business, to go around the suburban areas of Secunderabad.The orderliness and the cleanliness of the cantonment area and the Secunderabad roads made him feel embarrassed. If one crossed the Parade Ground, one had to face the traffic of military jeeps. He was afraid of the ‘tatat’ sounds those jeeps made. He was afraid too of the noise of the parading boots. No one could stand there for a long time to look at the operations. His uncle would allow him to stand under a tree just for a while. To sell clothes and to go for collection on a two-wheeler or in a four- wheeler was his aim. He would go Frequently go to Yapral as there were many Tamil families there. Even though they had come and settled in Secunderabad for more than one or two generations, still they considered Annadurai, M.G.R. and Periyar as their leaders. Their photos were hung on the walls of their homes.There were many small hills in the area adjoining Yapral cantonment; it was spotted with thin forest. It was a dry area. The small hills, rocks and the open ground made it a perfect area for shooting practice for the army.Whenever I went there I had seen the soldiers doing shooting practice there. They were practising on the targets made by wood and card board. The bullets that were shot had pieces of lead.The small pieces of lead from the bullets lay scattered on the sand. After the practice was over, many would rush to collect the bits of lead. As there was no time to gather the pieces at leisure, they would scoop the sand along with the pellets. Then they would sieve it and separate the lead bits. Then they would melt them and sell it in Secunderabad and Hyderabad. There were agents to buy them.In the beginning, Malligarjunan was much fascinated by the task of gathering the lead pellets. Perhaps they might fetch good money it would be a better business to sell them than to sell saris one by one, he thought. But he was also afraid that his uncle might wash him off his hands saying that even without learning the tricks of the sari trade, he was not steady. He did not learn Telugu. It was irritating for him to learn Telugu. He was shy to speak it. His tongue could not utter even a single syllable of Hindi. As the language problem was insurmountable for Maliigarjunan, he had to do his business only in the areas where the Tamils lived. The situation being as it was, he was very careful that he did not rub his uncle on the wrong side.One day, when he was tying the cloth bundle on his cycle, he hid a sack under that bundle. That day, his uncle told him that they had to go to Yapral.After doing the first round of business, he told his uncle to go first a bit faster and that he would follow him soon. He stayed behind. One should go to the training ground to collect the lead pieces only in the evening. Mallikarjunan waited for the evening.The ground was rocky with a mixture of sand and soil. There was a group waiting to enter as soon as the army platoon had left. He went along with that group and gathered a sack full of sand and pellets. Others also did the same. As it was getting dark fast, he could not do his job at leisure. He hurriedly tied the sand sack along with the cloth bundle. The carrier was tilting towards one side as the weight was too much. With much difficulty, he crossed Yapral fast.He thought that the people walking in the streets of Secunderabad watched him with terror filled eyes. That thought occupied his mind till he reached his uncle’s house in Sitaphalmandi and unloaded his luggage. He put the sack in a corner. How to sieve the sand and where to find a sieve – these thoughts occupied his mind.Her mother thought that the sand- sack was yet another cloth bundle and kept silent for two or three days. One day, she found that it was unusually heavy. Getting alarmed and raising a loud hue and cry, she dragged the sack to the street. After his explanation, she was even more afraid. She opened it and emptied the contents into a ditch.Malligarjunan’s lead - dream went into pieces thus. Her mother thwarted his first attempt. He thought that it was not advisable to carry the bags of sand in his cycle carrier frequently. If he moved to Yapral area, there was some possibility; he could do both the businesses at the same time. But then, for everything he had to come to Secunderabad. His mother also wouldn’t move away from the present area where there were many families from Chinnalapatti, he thought.Malligarjunan learnt the trade and was doing it like a machine without any interest. One day when I saw him, he was immersed in the abhisheka pooja in the holy Tamil month of Thai (January) in the Pillyar temple on the Secunderabad railway station road. All the families from Chinnalapatti who were living in the Sitaphalmandi area joined together to conduct that special pooja. He told me that he had mingled with them in to like the sand and lead bits!