 |
| Pa.Singaram |
Chapter 6: Arnemia River
The work of despatching sand from the Arnemia River
was in full swing. The river was flowing towards North and the water in its
upstream was rustling through the rocks standing erect. The downstream was a milky
sand bed. Creepers and various plants were found intertwined along the trees
standing taller on both sides of the river bank. On the South, was there a range
of Coral Mountain in green and blue lying in folds. The patches of the
Prasthaki road that ran around the mountain were looking like a thin grey line
here and there. The Kabanjaho peak that was gleaming in violet hue at a
distance seemed to be playing joyous hide and seek game behind the clouds by
its recurring appearance and disappearance.
The Dutch Prisoners of war brought from the Kulukoor
prison were filling sand in baskets, carrying it on their head and throwing it
into bullock carts standing on the bank. Once the sand was filled to the
required level, the columns of bullock carts dragged themselves hard on the
newly made road, got onto the highway and then disappeared. At some distance in
the northern direction, Tamil Javanese labourers headed by Supervisor
Periyasamy were standing as a separate group and were busy loading sand into
bullock carts.
Pandian and Lieutenant Kimiyori Nomura were sitting in
foldable chairs, conversing in English under a fully grown Jumeirah tree
standing on the northern bank of river with its expanse of shade under it.
Three columns of war planes, each column with five
planes, were on their way flying above their heads. Their boom resonated in
unison and sounded like waves of noise in synchronicity.
“Jiro…new generation flights” Nomura said, holding his
palm above his eyes looking through the sky. He started narrating the
credentials of the flight as he still looked up at the sky. Then he cleared his
throat and turned to Pandian.
“Indians will be able to return to their mother land
very soon. The North East region of India is going to be the graveyard of
British Army. The Burmese General Kavabe is one of the best war strategists of
our time.”
Pandian extended his hands to offer him a cigarette.
“Thank you”
Both of them lit their cigarettes, smoked it.
“Independence to all the Asian Countries, the
cooperation among them, and making all the necessary arrangements for Asians to
settle down in Northern Australia which is lying without human settlements now
to facilitate the settlers doing agriculture. This is the grand war plan of the
Great Japan”
Nomura puffed his cigarette.
Pandian took out his hand kerchief and wiped off his
face and neck. Taking out the cigarette from his mouth, he told:
“Look at these Dutch guys. They ruled the entire
Indonesia once upon a time. Cowards…cowards…In those days they were warriors
and technically superior beings. But today…they just fight like street dogs for
a piece of cigarette bud.”
“Their action wasn’t commensurate with the
demonstration they displayed”
“It is just an empty demonstration. Had it been
Japanese people, they would have dragged this matter till the end with their
steadfast demonstration in Medan circle”
“You are right”
“You must see their original face in Kulukoor prison.
Just to get a one more morsel of food or a cigarette, they betray their
fellowmen with some unfounded charges. How petty their fights are! Sometimes one
would complain that the other had stolen his slippers…and someone has stolen
his piece of dried fish. You will never find such pathetic display of nonsense
among Japanese people even while living under extremely pressing circumstances”
The sun was climbing upwards above head. The air
around grew warmer. The sound of military vans treading on roads faintly fell
into ears. The white men in shabby dresses and unkempt hair were carrying the sand
collected from the river on their heads. They were bending down, frequently, rhythmically,
with spades in their hands, scooped out sand, filled their baskets, lifted them
muttering unintelligible complaints and walked.
Pandian’s threw his eyes towards the river front. He
turned back and saw Nomura who was still under the spell of his cigarette
smoke. He then, looked up and examined the tree tops and again settled on
river. “Ah…how this life changes its colour so easily! Victory- failure,
Prosperity- poverty, Pride-disgrace…” he pondered.
The time was up. The lieutenant rose, stood stiff,
took out his whistle from his pocket and blew it aloud. Pandian too rose and
stood aside.
All bullock carts, labourers, both Tamils and Javanese
started walking towards the other side of the river.
The white men came to this side of the river, escorted
by soldiers.
“Keire…eeii…” the Corporal yelled at them.
The soldiers saluted. The prisoners paid regards,
bending their torso down to their waist level. The lieutenant counted their
heads and asked the corporal something. He replied- reply in a louder voice.
The second whistle was blown- This is to announce meal
time.
All started walking towards the plains lying on the eastern
side of Jumeirah tree. A bulky frame, limping its left leg was walking behind
them. Pale white hair, sharp bluish eyes, aahh…he was lawyer Dilton. Military
goblets seen on him. Oh! He was a Reserve Major.
Dilton looked up, his face became brighter as a sign
of satisfaction. He nodded his head gently and moved ahead.
The prisoners sat on ground and ate the ball of rice packed
in dried banana leaves. The amount of rice was not even sufficient for one
mouthful. The balls were dried up. They were given a tiny piece of dried fish.
Dilton was in charge of those prisoners. He didn’t have
to work like others. He had sufficient leisure time as well. He sat aside,
opened his banana leaf bundle, took out the rice ball and dried fish, and
started eating.
The Japanese shepherds were driving the herds of
prisoners again into the river.
Pandian and Nomura sat on their chairs under the Jumeirah
tree and puffed their cigarettes silently.
Dilton completed his meals and opened the tobacco
leaves, rolled it in crumbled piece of paper and started puffing out his
handmade cigarette.
With sweat mixed with dirt flowing like flood on his
body, the ‘Rolls Royce’ lawyer Dilton was sitting, facing the east, cuddling
his knees with his hands like an orphan. Pandian could see his back visible
through the holes of his torn shirt. He mumbled something to Nomura. The
Japanese yelled at him furiously. Dilton turned his face at them. His eyes were
glistening with fear.
Pandian puffed his cigarette nonchalantly, calmly
staring at the lieutenant’s face. His silent eyes insisted an important message
how one could help needy people without compromising his ethics of performing
duty.
The Japanese man stood astounded. He never faced such
a dilemma before. ‘How daring this Indo man is! What a courage! What a
composure! Is he thinking that I am also one among the merciless bastards?’
He was hesitant and explained the dangers of taking such
a decision.
At last he conceded to Pandian’s demands, though
unwillingly with a stern warning. “In case the soldiers get the whiff of it, I
won’t open my mouth. It is sure that your head will roll”
Pandian then picked up the food bag and coffee mug kept
at the bottom of tree and ran to Dilton.
“Please eat faster”
He stuffed two five rupiah currency notes into a Murat
Cigarette packet and gave it to Dilton along with a match box. He turned to
left and stood along the river.
Lawyer Dilton’s hands were trembling. His lips were
shaking. He opened the bag- Poori, Dosa, mutton pieces, Chatni- he ate
all amidst hiccups. He drank coffee from the mug. His entire body shuddered. He
opened the cigarette box and found two currency notes stuffed into it. ‘Ten
guilders’ Ein, Tway, Fiar, Jex, akt, Teen**- Thirteen types of
cigarettes. Match box, that too in full. His eyes welled up with tears. He bent
his head down, held it between his knees. ‘He must be the clerk who was
working with fifth number Chettiar. He is a good soul. He attended one issue at
Jathilan’s house. Name? I couldn’t recollect it. How did he come here? Is he
working with the contractor?’ his lips were mumbling inaudibly.
“My Lord! Please give him a long and prosperous life.
Please stand guard to stop any troubles coming to him. My Lord! The omniscient!
Please pay heed to the words of this unlucky soul and bless his life for ever. Amen”
He threw away the banana leaves into bush nearby, and
approached Pandian as he walked towards the river.
“Brother! Who are you? What is your name?”
“I am Pandian. Now I am working as clerk in the office
of Renovation contractor Khader Moideen. I was working under fifth number
Chettiar earlier. Please keep moving. Don’t stand here”
Rolls Royce lawyer Dilton moved ahead, got into the river
dragging his torn shoes from which his fingers were sticking out.
The work of sand loading from the Arnemia River went
on continuously for twenty three days. Every day he provided Dilton food,
coffee and cigarettes. As his luck would have it, no untoward incident happened
so far.
***Ended***
Chapter 7: “Three Friends” will be published soon.
Note:
**I assume that
they are cigarette brands. I couldn’t get the actual spelling of these brands.
The readers may assume their spellings and relish it the way I did.
