Civil Lines, Jabalpur. It was a vast land of gloom. I dare say "gloom" only because of the grave silence prevailing in this spot (exactness deliberately withheld, fearing the offense I may unknowingly cause the inhabitants). But I urge that no one, especially the elite dwellers here, consider my reference to the word, whether in a literal or abstract sense, to imply a general spirit of sadness. I only mean to say (or feel, as I had always felt traversing that secluded road with only one streetlamp and a large tree overshadowing it) that it was a terror passing that road as a child. It was as though I were passing through a graveyard. And only when I reached Our Lady's grotto erected at the end of that dark lane was there a sense of relief. On the other side of the road, a much brighter side, was a buzzing market occupied by petty vegetable sellers. It was a cluttered street where people crammed up and down, trampling upon each other and kicking each other in a hurried scrutiny of cabbages, potatoes, turnips, and roots. A little ahead of that roaring bazaar was a garden where elderly couples slouched lazily with their tiny and tepid grandchildren, the young huddled about for petty amusements, and an easy air of laughing and joking prevailed.
At the center of that market was a little colony. As a child, I always called it the Christmas colony, for the season here was always a time to look forward to. Houses and courtyards gleaming and glittering with lights. Paper chandeliers with soft lights floating above the roofs. A series of incandescent bulbs bordering the walls, running into the garden, or climbing up the fence. Choice bulbs of red and green lights hanging by the gates. A long circuit of small yellow lights running up the trees like lighted serpents and suspended from the branches arching over the roads. During this season, everything within the bolted gates of this community was either draped in a bright cloth or lit up by a Christmas star. And it felt as if the partakers had vowed to cast away the darkness of their lives—one must doubt whether the lights seemed to know. But, by and large, it was a community of cheerful people. They were cheerful when they stumbled at street corners, cheerful when they trampled upon beggars, cheerful when they coughed in the dust, cheerful when they fell in the potholes, and cheerful when they lived through their daily agonies, which even the poor light of the Christmas star dangling from the lowly ceilings could only momentarily dispel. I'm sure this exposition will persuade those living in this city to wonder as to the whereabouts of this sinister spot. In such a case, I'm only compelled to happily refer them back to the second line of this chapter, curtailed cunningly in thoughtful parenthesis.
David had always found this locality to be most appealing. This was when he visited Our Lady's Shrine during Novenas as a young boy. But even as a grown-up man, he had reasons to prefer this place to any other place. One, it was more peaceful than most places around. And two, his office was only a few meters away. But finding an apartment here was not easy, for the eternally suspicious landlords made the pursuit a painstaking endeavor for him. The interview often began with questions about his family, profession, hobbies, and interests. But after this, it turned grave, for the matters concerning betrothal and dating were soon touched upon. If David expressed his eagerness to get engaged soon, he was cheerfully entertained. But if he hinted at his preference to remain in his happy resolve to never befriend anyone with that intention, for no real reason, of course, he was addressed with extreme anger and mistrust. Distraught, when he would question their behavior, they would shamelessly assert their intentions to choose married men over bachelors, maintaining that they thought of unmarried single men as wild, untamed horses. Though David found the observation absurd, he offered no objections.
Then, to his great annoyance, he was asked whether he liked drinking and having a rather good time over the weekends. But to this question, David often gave a sharp-witted response.
'I do make great merry,' he would say to them sarcastically, 'especially on holidays. We love to have great fun. Loud music and red wine. I'm quite into them. They make my stay delightful. Do you not get together like we young people do? Ah, I get it. It must be difficult, considering your age?'
The ridicule the recipients suffered because of such connotations would immediately deny David the favor. And lamenting the loss, he would return to his sister's house only to come back at a later time, hoping to meet someone sensible.
David's mother was always against the idea of his leaving Katni. And her worries were justified, for she knew he was a naive and gullible boy. He skipped meals often, went to bed late, and ignored his chores. But her greatest fear was that he trusted strangers quickly and was too naïve to deal with worldly matters, especially those demanding a slight degree of judgement. In the last weeks before his departure from Katni, she had expressed great anxiety about his leaving, maintaining that not all could be trusted in this incredulous world. Though David assured his mother of his good conduct, promising not to be lured into company, he was aware of her anxious heart that fretted at little troubles and was always keen to call him back.
A week after his last disastrous encounter with the landlords, David arrived at the Christmas colony again. Anxious about the outcome, as he went past the main gate, he got a phone call from the landlord, who shared the particulars of the apartment and summoned him upstairs.
In a little while, David was at the doorpost of the apartment. As he pushed the door open, he saw a bright young girl standing by the window and gazing at him. Greeting him, she offered that he inspect the rooms first and make up his mind before discussing anything further. Acknowledging the invitation, David went about the apartment for a thorough inspection; and after spending a quarter of an hour in this occupation and left satisfied, he delightfully returned to the girl.
'Rendered blissful by the cleanliness, Miss,' he said to her. 'I'm delighted by what I see. I quite like the apartment.'
'I'm glad you like it, Sir,' said Ana in her delicate grace. 'But I have a question to ask. Will you be living here alone?'
'I thought you already knew about it,' he said to her agitated.
'I'm sorry, Sir,' she replied. 'I'm not the owner. My father is. I'm here on his behalf today, as he's sick and cannot attend to you. I'm afraid I know nothing about you.'
'I'll be living alone here, Miss.' He looked at her sorrily. 'So now you have the same response as others?'
'I'm afraid, Sir,' she sighed. 'We have rules, and we have to follow them.'
'What are these rules, Madam?'
'We don't rent out to single men. You must have a family to live here.'
At this, David began to plead. 'This would be the fourth rejection in four weeks, Miss. I'm just giving up hope of ever finding a house here.'
'I'm sorry, Sir,' Ana persisted. 'I can't help it. Nothing against you, but we've had some bitter experiences of late with single men living here, and we had to ask them to vacate. Hence, the rules. I'm afraid I can be of no help to you. That said, I think we're done. Now would you mind, Sir?'
'I understand that, Miss.' David besought her as she started to leave. 'But please understand my urgency. I have roamed enough and am worn out. Besides, my mother keeps a close watch and will not fail to press me to return if I don't settle the matter soon.'
'You said you have a sister here,' pursued Ana, stopping to resume the conversation. 'Why not check with her?'
'Oh, she stays near the medical hospital. Commuting daily to work will be difficult.'
'May I ask where you work, Sir?'
'Felix Couriers,' David replied. 'At the Caravs. It's just two hundred meters away. I'd be joining next week as a junior accountant there.'
'Therefore, this place, eh?'
'Yes, Miss. If I stay here, I can come home many times a day. But to tell the truth, I've always liked this place. We used to come here every year during Our Lady's Feast. Please, can you do anything about it? I know the rules are stringent. But I'd be grateful if you could consider me. Any little assistance would go a long way.'
Moved by his request, Ana pulled out her phone and dialed a number. And after a brief discussion with the person on the other side, she paused in her thoughtful patrol up and down the room and returned to him.
'Okay,' she said, depositing the phone in her pocket. 'You may live here. I have given my reference to the chairperson. That should help. I told him you're my relative. Keep this in mind as you move about here. If anyone questions you, tell them you know me.'
David was delighted to hear this. But as he was about to thank her, she interrupted him,
'No, no. Not just yet. Don't be delighted so soon. There's a condition. You must pay two thousand rupees to him. He's quite greedy, you see.'
'Agreed, Miss.' David was quick to reply.
'Unaccounted,' she clarified.
'I'm okay with that.'
'One more thing. Remember, you must never say you live alone here. If the neighbors learn about this, they will demand your exit immediately.'
'How do I manage in this case?' David asked her concernedly.
'Well, I insist you call someone from your family to visit you often. Let the people around see you move about with them. This way, no one would question you. Is there anyone you can call? An elderly relative, mother, uncle, sister, or suchlike? Even a distant relative would do.'
'My mother.' David returned excitedly. 'She won't mind visiting me often.'
'But could that be too often,' she asked, 'assuming she's in Katni and would have quite a lot to travel?'
'Never too old to travel, Madam.' David sniggered. 'She loves going to places. Besides, she knows the city quite well. My sister was married here. I'm sure she'll have no complaints.'
'Very well,' said Ana, extending her hands for a shake as if to seal the deal. 'We must now make the arrangement legitimate. If you have nothing better to do, we can go to the notary's office and settle the matter. Do you have your documents and photographs?'
'By all means, Miss. I always carry them.'
For the next hour or so, David sat with the consultant, answering questions, filling out forms, signing papers, and presenting documents. Ana stood behind them and guided him when he looked bewildered. Soon, the matter was settled, and a copy of the arrangement was handed to them for review.
'Affix your eyes here,' said Ana, pointing to a section on the paper. 'The terms and conditions. You may also call them the dos and don't s. They are essential, in case you're not aware. A lot of errors occur when these things are missed. You should know them all. Read what this clause says about behaving well and the upkeep of the property. Nothing is more important than treating the apartment like your own. But there's much more. You may go through them and contest if you wish.'
'I should have no objections, Miss,' said David, having hurriedly gone through the papers. 'I promise to adhere.'
'That's wonderful. That's what we expect. Adherence in all circumstances. You are never to break the rules and disgrace us in the neighborhood. If you carefully examine your part of the business, you'll have our favor. If not, you know the outcome. Look here.' Her slender forefinger underscored another clause. 'This is the second important clause. The financial aspect. The remittance is only to be in cash. No online transactions. We don't accept them. Make sure you don't default on this. Any problem in compliance, speak of it now.'
'It could add to my agony, Miss.' David argued. 'Any alternative to that?'
'None. That's my father's way of saving taxes. Besides, he finds handling online matters laborious. I'm afraid I can do nothing about this one. You must comply or leave.'
'The latter, Miss,' David fumbled. 'I'd rather comply than leave. I have no problem with that clause. Anything else that should require my attention before I leave? I would like to go back to the apartment and rest.'
'A caution!' Ana replied, folding the papers and bagging them. 'Remember that my father exercises all rights and privileges. He may visit you to check the upkeep of the room. You must be prepared for that. He's most determined to do this on weekends to catch the tenants unprepared. But I am cautioning you beforehand. Always be prepared. He's quite sharp and takes nothing for an excuse. The previous tenants have seen it. They were reckless and kept the rooms dirty. He saw their mess and threw them away. He's very strict on this matter and makes no compromises. Ensure you follow what I say. Use the property at your convenience but also focus on its upkeep. If he discovers you're being reckless, he may ask you to vacate without notice.'
'It should not be a concern, Madam.' David retorted proudly. 'I can even vow my compliance. Anything else you may care to bring to my notice?'
'That's about it.' Ana answered, giving him the keys and shaking his hands. 'Now that the matter is settled, any disagreements brought up later will not be entertained. The signature is your comprehension and acceptance. If you come up with anything later, it'd be better for you to keep the inquiry within your own breast, for we shall not be bound to entertain it. And if that seems too pressing, you may vacate the room and leave. That's how we work. As for matters concerning your neighbors, you can always voice your issues. We'd happily deal with that. You may now proceed. Keep the papers safe. Study the clauses and remember compliance. But remember my father more.'
Discharging these words with authority, she rode away and was soon lost in the busy street. Having safeguarded the papers in his bag, David started back and was quickly at the gate of his colony. But no sooner did he go past it than he was abruptly intercepted by a soft command.
'Hello! Stop right there!'
The voice was that of a short man clad in a filthy dark uniform. With a rotten cap covering his bald head and patches of grey flowing forth from his thick logs into his shabby beard, he appeared quite sinister and overqualified to guard the gates on account of his rather tired figure. Walking toward him with his glaring eyes of suspicion, he removed his glasses from his shirt pocket and affixed them above his nose. But after examining David carefully for a while, he came to himself and began to be more at ease.
'A mistake, again,' he said to himself, shaking his head and chuckling. 'It's my folly that I always go wrong here. You're just an ordinary man and no thief. How do you do, Sir?'
'Very well.' David replied nervously.
'It seems you're nervous. Do not be alarmed. I'm the security guard here. Look at my soiled uniform and rotten cap. This is how we usually look. But there's nothing dreadful in our hearts. We harm no one, for we're too old to do anything. Ha ha. That's the tragedy. Look at me. I can't even bend down and lift a stick, let alone guard the gates. But I have no choice, Sir. The young do not fit into these positions easily, for they have better avenues. This has always been the portfolio of the old, you see.'
'May I help you?' said David after this little introduction.
'Don't bother, Sir. I stopped you because much thieving occurs here, and we ought to be suspicious about anyone unknown. That's our commission. We need to excel at that. And most of the time, these thieves appear just normal. It's hard to differentiate, you see.' He drew back to examine David. 'But looking minutely at you, I conceive you can never belong to the group. Your fear betrays you, and you're too simple to be addressed as a thief. Fear and hesitance betray a genuine man. But who is it I address? Are you a visitor?'
'I'm the new tenant.'
'I see. Do you live alone here?'
'I do.'
'No siblings, cousins, or relatives to count on?' He was suspicious.
'I wish I could say I have them close.'
'No wife or children?'
'Not yet.'
'No good people for relations?'
'Scarcely around.'
'In that case, do you not know,' he pointed at the board affixed to the main gate, 'that you ought to have a wife, sister, mother, or suchlike to live here with? Bachelors are frightening to the people of this community. And if they're too noisy, they're even more dreadful to them. These boisterous, drunkard gongs make a bunch of bad fellows, I assure you. I've had some bad experiences myself. Do you see this?' He pushed his cap behind slightly and exposed his reddened head. 'This is what they gave me. The bottle fell on my head, and it cracked like a coconut. I had to get it stitched end to end. It's not a good feeling to nearly lose one's skull for the price of a beer bottle. They were silly men, and we had great trouble chasing them away. They jeered at people and threw things at them. But I don't see such a likeness in you. Fear and hesitance, Sir. I say again. They are enough to betray a genuine man. And you're one such. But I hope there's nothing behind your innocent face.'
'Nothing, Sir. I speak the truth.'
It was only out of courtesy David granted him that title. Besides, he was too elderly to be addressed as anything else.
'Nonetheless,' the guard continued, 'the question remains. Are you alone here?'
David suddenly remembered the caution given by Ana and fumbled,
'No, no. I'm not alone. Sorry for not mentioning this previously. My mother lives with me. But she isn't here. She has gone to meet a relative and will be back soon.'
'So, you don't lie, do you?' The guard whispered, looking into his eyes dubiously. 'Fear also betrays a liar. And I can make out easily.'
'I don't, Sir. You may ask the owner.'
'Oh, I don't need their validation,' replied the watchman, calmly adjusting his cap. 'Experiences shape everyone's judgement. A little more in my case, for I meet many liars and bad people, you see. But I don't think you lie. I find you too genuine to deceive anyone. So when will your mother return?'
'Next week, Sir.'
'I shall look forward to that day. It's good that she is living with you. This way, she can keep a watch on you. Any city as big as this is infectious, and not even the decent ones are spared. You may need her for counsel and guidance often. I'm sure she'd be a great caution for you against deceivers. She is your protector and stronghold, a great restraint to your stupid ways. Only under her guidance will your youth be tamed.'
'I shall keep that in mind,' assured David.
'A thing more, Mister. Would you have friends coming over for a rather merry time after work? If you do, I suggest you better keep a check. People here cannot bear loud music. And if they see drunk men loitering about, they wouldn't mind beating them up and chasing them out. I hope you don't drink?'
'Not too often,' replied David.
'Good!' He ejaculated. 'You must subdue your urges often and not give into them. Excess of anything needs to be avoided. We all must practice it.'
Discharging this lesson, he looked around, drew closer to David, and secretly half-drew out a miniature bottle from the inside of his coat, whispering,
'But I'm certainly not the type, for I have hard labor to pursue every day. Any excess, in my case, is permissible. This keeps me fit for the job. Ha ha.'
'I have no such friends.' answered David, ignoring his secret confession.
'Well, in that case, you must be careful, Sir, for you shall soon have many friends like me. But you must not worry.' He gently restored the bottle in his coat. 'I will take care of them. You can ask them to come any time without fear. As long as I'm around, no one can catch them or question them. I can shelter them and be their guard. The only condition is you be good to me. If you do that, I'll be at your service.' He half-drew out his secret object for emphasis again, cautiously looking around. 'I need a refill time and again to do my job well. You do this for me, and you'll have my favor.'
As David was quietly considering the proposal, a strong tumult was heard at the gate.
'What a mess without me!' The guard shrieked in annoyance, turning around. 'Looks like there's some confusion. I must go back now.'
Angrily dispersing the crowd near the gate, he peacefully entered his cabin. Then positioning himself by the window, he drew out his bottle, took a quick sip, smacked his lips, hit his chin with pride, and resumed his glorious, drunken office of keeping watch, made alert and conscious by the recent boost.
'For any assistance,' he cried out, seeing David walk away, '103 on the intercom, Sir.'
Soon after the chamber was drawn to a shut, David was back in his apartment talking to his mother over the phone.
'Aren't you well?' She said to him anxiously. 'You haven't called. It's been ages since we spoke last. You're very insensitive and heartless. Just like your father.'
'We just spoke last evening, Ma.' David casually replied. 'It's only been a few hours.'
'Still too much for an interval. But you won't understand that. As I say, you are heartless. I hope you're safe and not exposed to the evil around.'
'There's no evil here, Ma.'
'Oh, please don't say that,' she replied. 'I know all about these cities. They can swallow any good man. I should not like to see you fall into its traps. Remember my caution when tempted.'
'You fret for no reason. I have sound judgement.'
'You say so, now. But I shall wait to see how that judgement is exhibited when you have acquaintances.'
'I will not disappoint you,' he replied laughingly.
'You better not, Son. Be careful in everything you do. Avoid strangers, and don't be too eager to talk to everyone. And if it's unimportant, avoid it. Also, refrain from trying any drinks. Don't be a disgrace to me. If I came to know you've drifted, that would be the end of your joyful ride in life. Avoid lonesome bike rides too. Remember how you broke your wrist because of that? Be very cautious, and work diligently. If you need anything, Sandra and Simon are there to help you. Keep talking to them and visit them often. I will come to see you soon.'
'You certainly must, Mother. And you must live with me for a week every month. On this condition, I have been granted accommodation. People here detest the sight of a single man living alone.'
'This is rather absurd,' noted his mother. 'But, do not fret. I shall visit you often. It'd be sooner than you think. To tell the truth, I'm eager to meet you already, for I have something important to discuss. It remains as vital to me as any other worldly matter at present. Although my heart races to compel me to open up, I shall hold firmly to what I've promised myself. But let the theme be forgotten for now. Tell me what you had for dinner.'
'Not yet. I've just been back from the market. I will order food from a nearby restaurant.'
'So now you eat outside?'
'Only until I've fully settled here. I will be buying some cutlery and vessels in the coming days. Once the kitchen is ready, I'll start cooking.'
As they spoke, the clock struck ten at his mother's end. Alarmed by the trigger, she insisted on disconnecting, but not before repeating her final instructions. She ordered him to conduct himself well, to wash vegetables thoroughly, to clean his hands and mouth before supper, to keep the doors bolted at all times, and to be cautious when dealing with strangers. And after this little showering of intelligence, she softly prayed over the call and signed him with the Cross.
With the evening wearing on, David entered the bedroom and stood by the window, overlooking the long strip of highway lamps lit up in a sequence, end to end. In the darkness beyond the highway, what seemed to look like a silver lining yonder, was a little water-body whence came forth a gentle breeze that ruffled his hair. Sparing a few moments observing the huddles of men near shops, the hasty returns of tired people shouldering heavy bags, the speedy vehicles, a patch of towering structures delightfully lit, and another patch of lowly slums with no lights at all, he returned to the spot where he must lie every night. As instructed by Ana, he pulled out an old mattress from behind the door and, having laid it on the floor, began to beat it with a stick until the room was full of dust. And after furnishing a series of blows at length and wheezing violently, he threw himself upon the cushion and fell asleep.