Chapter 6: chapter 6

2Even before Mustafa entered our house, the smell of biriyani or double ka meetha, a mouth watering Hyderabad delicacy, would reach your nostrils. Whenever he visited our house, he never came without snacks or sweets! On festival days, he always came with Hyderabad biriyani and Navatrathna Kuruma. On Muslim festival days he would overwhelm us with his tasty preparations- sometimes we would even get embarrassed. There were many shops in Hyderabad selling Ajmeri biriyani. But Hyderabad biriyani was a local delicacy. I liked pani poori and bread halwa very much. The non- vegetarian preparation halim was a bit hard and almost colloidal. During the Ramzan days of fasting, in many streets, there would be big stoves, something like the big ovens used the washer man for steam- washing clothes. Large pieces of firewood would be burning inside... During the Ramzan days, halim would be served hot in porcelain cups. I didn’t like halim very much. It tasted pungent and sour and I tasted it just once or twice. Its taste could never come near that taste of the biriyani Mustafa used to bring. On ordinary occasions, he would buy it from hotels and on festive occasions, he would bring from his home in big stainless steel vessels!Mustafa’s uncle was a money-lender. Many people from Bodinaiackanoor, in Tamil Nadu were engaged in money- lending business here. They came here to collect money every month. Mustafa’s uncle had come to Secunderbad with so many dreams to earn money. He tried his hands in many jobs but he could not settle in any. At last, he became an agent for lending money and collecting it. He used to visit the suburban areas of Secunderabad in the early mornings in his bicycle. It was his responsibility to choose the new borrowers and lend them money. Mostly he lent money to the Tamil labourers in unorganised sectors. He was very much disturbed to see those poor Tamils living in huts put up on the pavements along the roads. He used to describe their pathetic life in detail. Two of his stories focussing on the misery of those people had appeared in the Tamil Magazine Puthiya Paarvai. He was also much worried that he could not attend our literary meetings. It was because he had to be busy collecting the interest for the loans on Sunday evenings.At times he did not like the work of collecting interest from the debtors. He used to say that money-lending was banned in The Quran. But as Muslims helped the needy during their festival seasons they felt less guilty, he said. He observed the fasting ritual strictly during the festival seasons.He liked very much the Railway Quarters in Secunderabad. There was a structure resembling a large train in front of the Office of the Central Railways. He liked it very much.When I took Asokamitran there once, he too was very much pleased to see it. He gazed at it for a long time. He said it was a train, stationary and soundless. Casually he remarked that Mr. Rajkumar was a good actor in the Kannada film industry. Some Tamil actors were also equally good but Rajkumar was an exceptional actor, he commented. Around that time, I had brought out an anthology of fifteen short stories. It included the writings of my friends like Karthika Rajkumar, Nandalala, Piriyadharshan and four others.It was modelled on the anthology Konal. I started talking about it. The famous Tamil writer Sujatha who had visited Secunderabad that month praised it very much former President Abdul Kalam was working in Hyderabad then. Sujatha came on an official visit to DRDL to meet Abdul Kalam. He had just then stopped contributing the last page of Kanayazhi, a prime Tamil literary magazine. An adverse criticism about his writings in that magazine had wounded him very much. He referred to my short -story, Gounder Club in the anthology brought out by Ashokamitran. He told me that he would mention about the anthology sometime, somewhere. I asked Sujatha whether there he detected his influence in Karthika Rajkumar’s stories, who was writing in popular magazines then. But when he told me that in my short-stories there was a trace of his influence, I was just surprised.Whenever I went there, I also used to enjoy the train structure. There were a number of flats with multiple storeys with a small park and a number of Tamils lived there. There was a big ‘Tamil crowd’ which determined the cultural path the Tamils had to tread on. That was why I had a fascination for the place.A. Nagarajan was working in Hyderabad. His short stories and a short novel appeared in Kanaiyazhi. Nagarajan was a good writer. I used to visit him. Sometimes I could not get reservation in trains when I wanted to go to Tiruppur, my home town. On such occasions Nagarajan came to my rescue.Once during a summer vacation I could not get the reservation in train. I was wandering in the Monda market area, much worried. It was unbearably hot. It was the time when Mustafa was taking a rest in his Ashok Nagar room. Whenever I went there, I was always attacked by his overflowing affection. Rats (mice?) would run freely in his room. Mouse traps were useless. He would easily find out the rats that hid themselves behind his trousers and shirts, just by their movements. He would put his palm over it and press it. The rat that was pressed would screech. He would bring the rat out using his other hand.That day also there were quite a few rats that were running here and there. Mustafa was looking at them and was very tired. I could not share my predicament. isat near him evincing no interest in his sad and pensive mood.I started walking, thinking that I could meet Nagarajan and ask for his help in getting the reservation. I was walking in the scorching sun along the Secunderabad Railway Station and the Keyes High School. If I could not get the reservation, I would have great trouble in taking my wife and children to my hometown. That worried me much. I felt a big rock pressing on my head. There was some crowd in front of a hut that was just before Nagarajan’s office. It seemed that Death had visited that house. There was a shamiyana in front of the house. As it was very hot and as I was very tired, I sat on a chair there. I came to know that the head of the family was a lady and she had committed suicide. She had been continuously borrowing money and the interest had been piling up. As she could not pay even the interest, she had committed suicide. The thought that the woman who had committed suicide might be a Tamil woman struck me like lightning for a minute. Amidst the lamentations in Telugu, there was a voice that was distinct and prominent. it was a Tamil voice! There was no sign that the body was still inside! They might have buried it or might have sent it for post- mortem. The Secunderabad Tamil is similar to the Chennai Tamil. It was a tongue mixed with words from Telugu. The cries were continuing. I thought that it would be better if sleep embraced me even as I was sitting in the chair.I thought about Mustafa. I was sure that he was being consumed up by worries caused by issues related to interest on loans.