Scattered Fates by Ram Garikipati (ebook reader ink TXT) 📖

Luckily for him Senthil had made the arrangements, and he spotted a few familiar faces in front, including The Hindu reporter.

Standing a few feet away, Moon was puzzled, trying to make sense of this whole situation.

I can’t believe movies play such an important role in driving public opinion. Thousands of people at midnight just to catch a glimpse of some stocky actor.

He had been warned about coming to India for his year- long exchange program.His economics professor at Corea University had advised him to go to a European country.

‘Western Europe has so much to teach the world. The civilization is solely responsible for this advancement in human life and social welfare. Go to London or Paris. Do not choose capitalist America or communist Russia. Avoid China and Japan. Most importantly, ignore filthy and poor countries like India. You will only suffer and learn nothing. Their culture is different from ours,’ Professor Jee Dong-hoon, a devout Buddhist, had told him.

Fourteen days after this discussion, and just 2 days before submitting his application Profesor Jee was dismissed by the university for plagiarism, fake educational credentials, and for claiming false expenses.

It is a sign that I should choose India. I should go.

He was almost regretting his decision now. The daytime weather was unbearable, with the temperatures touching almost 42 degrees Celsius. It was difficult to concentrate in class, trying to decipher the weird accents drenched in ones own sweat. He had to take a shower at least 5 times a day. Only the nights were bearable, outdoors.

His hostel room was no different. Unluckily, his roommate, Vinay Sharma, from the North Indian town of Ayodhya, had no sense of hygiene. Although he claimed to come from a rich upper-caste family he wore the same set of smelly clothes for days on end. The odor decapitated his senses and made him spend most nights in his friends’ rooms, although it meant sleeping on the cement floor, with cockroaches and rats occasionally turning up to greet him.

The food was yucky and he threw up every time he ate at the hostel canteen.

They call it ‘mess’ here…it sure is one! They only serve vegetarian food, with that regular dish that looks like liquid ttong… and they call it sambar.

Oh, how he missed the four seasons in Corea, the pleasant smells, kimchi, kamzhatang, and soju.

I have to get out. Professor Jee was right. This is a filthy place.

His depressive thoughts were scrambled by the loud announcement through the megaphone. All his friends had left, but Moon decided to stay back out of curiosity. He did not understand a word, and was in no mood to hunt for friendly translators. He just stood staring at the stage.

‘I thought you had left,’ a voice startled him.

‘Hello sir, you did not go on stage? I saw you with MGR before.’

‘Of course not, only leaders do that. I am not one. By the way, where are your friends?’

‘They got bored. I was also about to leave.’

‘You better not. The fun is just starting. Can you see those three people with MGR? They are our leaders. All them have gathered here to tell us something very important.’

‘Sir, I have just one question. How can a film actor be a leader? Is he also a politician?’ Moon asked.

‘His full name is Maruthur Gopalan Ramachandran. I know it is difficult to memorize. He is not just an actor but also a social reformer and politician. He made his film debut in the 1936 and now dominates our film industry. He became a member of my party DMK in 1953 with the help of that short guy to his right, Karunanidhi, who is also a famous scriptwriter for movies,’ he said pointing towards the stage.

‘MGR adds glamour to our movement and is also a member of our Legislative Council. He is very charismatic, and has been responsible for the phenomenal increase in our party membership. A lot of young people are joining our fight to help the poor and bring social reforms. He is not just a famous actor but also a great leader in his own right, and personally offers relief in disasters and calamities like fire, flood, drought, and cyclones. He was also the first donor to the war fund during our recent war with China. He gave 75,000 rupees,’ Subbaiah continued.

‘Sir, I am still confused about your movement.’

‘Well, there is no time to explain, maybe some other time; I can only say that our objectives include social equality, justice and eradication of caste oppression. Now… let us listen to what they will announce,’ he said, noticing Senthil hand over the microphone to Anna, as the crowd roared in approval.

Chapter 3: OLD MAN AT THE SEA

Maya woke up with a jolt, as the pounding on her door got progressively louder. It took a few seconds to get back her bearings, and she recollected last night’s odyssey, hurriedly slipping on her nightgown that was laid across the chair.

Despite the central air-conditioning, she found the room temperature a tad unbearable and had decided to sleep naked, of course after making sure that the door was securely latched from inside.

‘Coming! Give me a moment,’ she said stumbling towards the door. She unlatched it to face a brown face peering inside. Yes, it was Naga all right, but he looked different in the natural morning light.

God, it is so difficult to recognize faces. All of them look alike.

‘Good morning, rise and shine, it’s 8:30.’

‘Thanks Naga, give me a few minutes, and I will be right with you,’ she said tightly holding on to her gown.

‘Take your time. I am in no hurry. I took a week off to be at your service. By the way, I am preparing breakfast; hope you are okay with toast and eggs. You can taste Dravidian food later.’

‘Thank you, be right there.’

Twenty minutes later, sitting at the kitchen table, she was staring at a burnt toast and a blobby omelet, hesitating to dig her fork in.

What is this stuff?

‘Sorry, about the bread, the toaster is old, never used it much.’

‘My maid in Corea always burns my breakfast, I am used to it,’ she replied, almost choking on the salty piece of battered egg.

‘You have a maidservant? But I thought your parents are university professors,’ he said surprised.

‘Yes, they are. Everyone in Corea has at least 3 helps, one for cooking, another for cleaning the home, and the third for gardening, don’t you have any?’ she said hurriedly gulping down a glass of water.

‘Of course not, the only people who have servants here are the wealthy. As for gardening, most of us live in apartments, and only the superrich own their own villas.’

Maya was confused.

Dravida is a rich country, but the average citizens cannot afford servants and live in high-rise buildings, while Corea is a poor country, but almost everyone I know hires maids and lives in independent houses.

‘How much do you pay them?’ Naga inquired.

‘Well, in Dravidian rupees… let us see. 1,000 Corean won would be equal to around 10 US dollars, which is equal to around 100 Deccan rupees,’ she said, fingers punching the imaginary calculator. She suddenly stopped, as her eyes caught a gecko slowly inching towards the ceiling fan above.

‘That’s all? You know how much it costs to hire a maid here? 10,000 rupees. Isn’t that atrocious?’

Maya was half-listening. Tense, her eyes were following the four-inch long brown gecko that was chasing a small black spider.

What a disgusting creature.

‘Hey, don’t worry, balli’s are harmless, they just eat insects,’ he said, noticing her goose bumps and looking up.

‘What if it falls down?’

‘Not to worry, that rarely happens. Even if it does, make sure it does not fall on your head.’

Even before he could complete the sentence, Maya let out a loud shriek, and jumped out of her chair.

The gecko, in one last desperate attempt to catch it’s prey, lunged forward, missed the target, slipped and plopped on her right arm, before leaping onto the plate, and struggled to escape.

‘Help me. Get it out. Get it out,’ she screamed, rushing to a corner of the room.

He coolly folded a newspaper and chased the harmless little reptile till it disappeared behind the curtains.

‘You will get used to it. You know Dravida is a tropical country. Every home has ballis, without them we would be infested with insects, they do not bite and are not poisonous, so calm down.’

‘How can you live with those creepy creatures?’

‘There are a lot of superstitions about ballis, and we call it the Balli Dosha Shastram. Depending on which part of the body it falls on, it can either bring good luck or bad.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if it falls on your head, something very inauspicious is going to happen, if it falls on the foot it means travel, and in front of you means bad luck. Every body part it touches has a significance, different for men and women.’ ‘What about the right arm? It fell on my right arm.’

‘No idea, I never cared for all this humbug.’

Naga knew, but did not want to frighten her on the first day. He could not risk telling her that for women, it meant romance was in the air, while for men, it foretold trouble.

‘So, what is the plan? I thought of taking a few days to see the city before I start my research.’

‘Great. We are having lunch with some of my closest friends, and then we will go on a drive around the city.You can read some newspapers or watch TV, we still have an hour to go.’

‘Wow, how many newspapers do you read daily?’ she said, eyeing the stack on the coffee table.

‘I get 12 newspapers, 6 in English and 2 each in Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Malayalam and Sinhala. All paid for by my office. You see reporters cannot afford to miss any news.’

‘How can you read all these newspapers before breakfast? I can hardly manage one. Do you really know all those languages?’

‘It takes practice to read so many. You learn how to spot the important articles and leave the rest. Also almost every Dravidian knows the five languages. English is our national language, but the others are also official languages. We have to learn at least two languages besides our mother-tongue and English in school.’

‘Isn’t it difficult?’ she said, recalling her efforts to learn English in school.

It was a nightmare, and here students have to learn three different languages apart from English?

‘Well, not really, because all the five languages are more or less similar in grammar construct and vocabulary. Only their scripts are different. Similar to Corean, Chinese and Japanese.’

‘I don’t think so. Japanese and Corean are similar grammatically but their vocabularies are very different. Mandarin and Cantonese are also different from the other two. Moreover, we are not forced to learn the languages in school.’

‘I am glad we are forced to learn our official languages. It makes us complete. Look at Hindustan, Hindi is both their national and official language although it is the mother tongue of only 40 percent of the population. So if your mother tongue is Hindi, there is no desire to learn any other language. The remaining 60 percent know only their mother tongue and are forced to learn Hindi. Very few know English, except in the NorthEast states. There are so many other beautiful languages, but no one cares. That is why they are underdeveloped.’

‘I think that’s a bit farfetched. Soviet Union faces a similar language situation, so does the European Union, and they are both developed. One does not have to make English a national language to become developed. That is the American conspiracy,’ Maya said.

‘I am sorry. Who said that Soviet Union is developed? All their economic data is manipulated. They only have military strength, which I also seriously doubt.’

‘Look, I don’t want to argue now. We can have this discussion later with concrete data.’

‘Suits me, I don’t want to quarrel with you on your first day here.’

‘It’s my second day, and you