The question they asked me when we met for the last time occurs to my mind again and again. What confidence in those eyes! Those four eyes haunt me still. They keep shooting repeatedly piercing questions.

Three years passed since they asked me the question that got stuck in my heart like a dagger. If I had plucked it out and put it down on paper then itself, there would not have been so much agony. New experiences got piled on the old agony and like the over-growth of putrefied flesh, covered up the dagger. But which way I turn, the memories of the boys, which got encased in my mind, prick me. I cannot bear this pain in my heart any longer.

To tell the truth, I am not a great storyteller. The necessities themselves made me a storyteller. The process of writing stories stopped three years ago. Just as a great sorrow makes one forget the lesser sorrow, life made me forget the pain about the boys. Sometimes, the lesser pain and the greater pain join hands all at once and torture me. I cannot but bear it as the lesser pain gave rise to the greater pain.

Three days ago, there was a letter again. I saw it after I returned from college. It was from him, from Babu. He wrote it from the Central Jail, Rajahmandry. In that letter too, the same eyes, the same looks and the same questions.

I am afraid to write a reply. They were both my students. But they grew up beyond my reach in a sphere which is not my field. So, whenever I remember their words, I suffer from a guilty feeling. The thought that I made a mistake haunts me. 

They are Babu and Seenu. They belong to the same age group of Appu and Chirukanda. If I had not read the novel,”Chirasmarana,” perhaps I would not have pardoned them at all. I read the novel five years ago. The characters move before my eyes. Whenever there is a mention of my students, I remember Appu and Chirukanda. Now the forms of these two have merged with Babu and Seenu. This merger of identities took place three years ago.

 A bond of kinship connects my two students and the two characters. Babu and his friend brought me the novel. There was a stamp of the library of their student’s union on the book. On observing the stamp, I threw the book away.

At that time, I was keeping a distance from such activities. We did not see eye to eye with the student unions. So, I never allowed anyone of their company to come anywhere near me. Yet, I could not cut off my acquaintance with the two boys. I was not the cause of that situation. It was because of my wife.

The two boys and my wife belong to the same place. Their sisters were my wife’s childhood friends. My wife used to address the boys with intimate familiarity. Their sisters used to work in the fields of my mother-in-law. Of course, my mother-in-law did not belong to a wealthy family. She performed the marriage of her daughter with me giving me three thousand rupees as dowry when I was unemployed.

After my marriage, I worked for some time in that village as the headmaster of the Upper Primary School. During that time, the two boys became known to me. In that school there were many boys like these two. They used to visit our house often in torn clothes and with running noses. I felt disgusted looking at them. But my wife treated them as if they were her brothers. She entrusted work to them with equal authority.

Working in my mother-in-law’s place benefited me in a way. My prestige among my relatives grew high, very high indeed. There was no one among my relatives from both sides who rose to the high position of a headmaster of a school. Moreover, I used to write stories now and then which others could not.

Along with the benefits, I had to share a few losses also. My better half deprived me of the fifty percent freedom I enjoyed. In addition, she forced her relatives and friends on me. These two boys were among those whom my wife forced on me. Under the guise of seeking tuition from me and other such excuses they kept on hanging around me. I was smarting on my part under the feeling that they belonged to a low caste. Though I too belonged to a low caste, I had a very low opinion and contempt for Harijans. I do not know why I entertained such a feeling. Now the very fact of calling someone a Harijan strikes me as most inhuman. People marking down someone as a Harijan seems most disgusting.

I got transferred from that place when every fellow started showing off as a member of some association or other of the agriculture laborers. I lost my mental equilibrium. Who has the patience to get on with such politics? Local politics were taking despicable shapes and forms. Even a stupid person who did not know the three ‘R’s would talk of politics. The situation was something like standing between the devil and the deep sea.

The conditions in all other villages were equally bad. So, I got myself transferred from the Samithi schools to Zilla Parishad schools. There too the competition was keen. I put into force all the influences I had at command and got postings to the Z.P. School of the Taluka center of my choice. 

I was happy as a school assistant with no responsibilities. It was then I completed my M.A with literature. But even at the new place, the two boys did not leave me. They came to me with their pass certificates having passed the seventh class along with their parents. They held my feet literally and did not release me till I gave my word for their admission.

They were just not satisfied for having got admitted without paying donations. They started pestering me to get them admitted in the Harijan hostel. My wife was at home to sing their support. Anyway, what could I do? Admission in that hostel was not in my hands. I met the warden and handed him a few recommendation letters also. Once I invited him to my house and threw in a wet party too.

In this way they came back to me though I had tried to get rid of them. Along with my wife, my children joined hands with the boys. I learnt that my wife was entertaining the boys with tea and refreshments without my knowledge. I used to pretend as though I was unaware of this activity as I was a practical administrator. They too kept themselves within their limits.

In course of time, the boys started treating my wife as their own sister. If my children suffered from cold, the boys took them to the hospital. When my wife was in the hospital for an operation, they attended on her. I was knocking about places in connection with our Union activities and problems. I do not know when and how the feeling of assurance grew in me that the two boys were a part of our family. In due course, I was not bothered to go home early. Sometimes, I used to be a little indifferent also.

The boys lived in a different world. I did not like their ways. I do not understand what my weakness is. But I do not know why I could not imagine my house without them. There was some mystery in their very approach to things. I could not oppose it. I too surrendered myself to them. 

In this manner, the two boys got merged with my family. They did not leave me alone while attached to my house. They behaved like my children with me. Such behavior made me feel amused and I liked them. I felt as though my self-confidence grew hundred-fold because of them. I wonder how the feeling that they were my sons and brothers grew in me. I too began to boss over them.

How much they used to amuse me by asking a hundred and one mischievous questions! How many books they made me read, appearing very innocent and docile! It is a mystery how they imbibed that approach. My wife read the novel “Madhavi” with her smattering knowledge. Not only that, but she also forced me to read it too.

They conquered my wife. Did they keep quiet till I read “Chirasmarana”? Can’t I understand even if they pretended innocence! They used to ask me about the teacher in that novel, about the boys and many other details about them. Could I manage without reading it?

I felt it was very inconvenient reading about the teacher in the novel. I wondered why the teacher subjected himself to all that bother without spending life happily like me There was no harm if we did not achieve great things. But we feel very uneasy if a common man like us performs great deeds. 

By the time I completed reading the novel it was midnight. Tears of sorrow ran down my cheeks. I felt sweaty all over my body. I was worried whether I was living in a body that belonged to someone else, I could not be my usual self until after three days.

I cannot express in words the influence of that novel on me. I did not know what I should do. Finally, I could understand that such a feeling arose in me because I liked the two boys. They brought about many changes in my individual life. But I never dreamt that they would bring about such changes in my social life also. I still do not understand why the story of these two boys should increase the distance between me and many others.

~*~

This happened three years ago. By then police camps were set up as well as labor associations of ryots also. The hunt for militant youth was an everyday occurrence. The parents of the youth who could not be arrested were subjected to hellish torture. The police started driving cattle into their fields to graze. It was hardly a year the Telugu Desam had come to power.

The two boys were studying degree classes in Karimnagar. At dead midnight Babu was arrested on a road. Seenu escaped and ran away.

It was not known what crime they had committed. Perhaps it was a crime to be seen walking along a road at midnight. It was not known how the police came. They swooped on the boys all of a sudden. Babu had no time to escape. He was caught.

They were arrested in Karimnagar but they were shifted to three police stations. They were brought to Huzurabad station three days ago. Their parents came to know and went to the station. They were beaten up and thrown into the lock-up at Zammikunta.

Ten days passed after Babu was arrested. I think animals also will not be tortured in that manner. He lost all hope of being alive. But the police did not allow him to die.

~*~

Babu was moaning in the lock-up. He had hiccups often. Some others also were moaning beside him. Four or five others were lying on the stone floor in different postures. In the room opposite four others were groaning in pain. 

The sentry struck eleven on the gong. But for that sound there was silence in the station. The ticking of the wall clock was clearly audible. The wireless was screeching every now and then. The air was stuffy. It was sultry. The smell of urine added to the sultriness The unpleasant smell was wafting into the verandah frequently. The inmates of the cells seemed to have got accustomed to the stench. Their groans and moans were increasing.

“ Why did you act like that?” Didn’t you know about all this?” It was the voice of the sentry. There was no anger in the voice. No reprimand. It was a voice that was tired of a routine.

The moans did not stop. The inmates knew that they had to suffer this pain. But their bodies were not able to withstand the pain. 

They did not know how long they had been suffering. They did not know whether it was night or day. The screeching of the wireless and the ticking of the clock were being heard. Suddenly the sound of a jeep .That sound was like a nightmare to them. Their blood congealed and their hearts dried up. 

The sentry got alert. The Deputy Superintendent of Police (D.S.P.) placed the order. Babu was taken out and pushed into the jeep. Two S.I s and one Circle accompanied the D.S.P. Behind them two vans full of constables. 

The jeep picked up speed. Babu moaned at the rocking movement of the jeep. But the police personnel didn’t react. The jeep turned right suddenly and was about to turn tussle but gained balance. The road perhaps was not smooth. The jeep shed speed. After a forty-minute run it stopped.

“Was it here?” asked the D.S.P sharply.

“Yes sir.”

Two vans came and stopped. Eighty policemen were ready with their arms. The D.S.P. walked behind Babu. The police branched off into four batches, eighty of them. Babu fell down, tripping on something.

He moaned.

“What happened?”

“My feet are full of blisters. It is difficult for me to walk sir.”

The D.S.P. asked a policeman to give support to Babu. Babu held the shoulder of the policeman. His hands were also paining. He was about to fall after some paces and placed his hand on the D.S.P. The sharp pebbles on the ground were paining his feet. The lathi blows and the torture he was put to agonized him. His muscles and nerves experienced shooting pain at his bodily movements. There were tears in his eyes. His mind wandered about in many directions. ‘How happy it would be if I breathed my last in such a situation,’ he thought. At the same time courage from somewhere was knocking at his heart and rushed up to his throat after a while. Even in that severe pain, he suddenly shouted, ”We have arrived, sir.”

Fear ran through the spine of the D.S.P. and he trembled. His body shook and shuddered. He looked round, peering through his eyes. It was dark. Why did this fellow so suddenly shout about the place? The D.S.P. gave the order. The policemen walked away in four directions.

It was a hill. They were going up crawling on all fours in the “laying” position. It must have rained in the morning. The hill was wet. Their feet were getting stuck in the slush here and there and also getting squeezed in the crevices of the rocks. They proceeded for nearly quarter of an hour. At the sound of a stone rolling down, the D.S.P. became alert. In that confusion his forehead got scratched by the branches of a thorny bush. He was agitated.

“Oh, you fellow!”

“Sir.”

“How does your Chandranna look like?”

“He looks striking.”

“That means?”

Babu collected some courage. His bleeding lips were burning. The dried wounds prevented him from talking. For ten days his body was subjected to hellish torture, and he lost control over it. He moaned with pain. Yet he collected all his strength and tried to talk aloud.

“Oh! He has huge moustaches. His head.is double the size of your head. He is muscular and looks like a master wrestler. He is taller than you sir.”

“Everyone says he is thin like a reed. What is it you describe him so?” 

“That was the story of long time back. If he catches hold of a person like you and gives a pull, the other person should somersault three times. If people just see him, they should urinate in fear.”

The D.S.P. felt his bowels squirming in his stomach.

“Chat! You bastard! Shut up.”

Perhaps even yogis too cannot smile in such pain. Babu smiled to himself. With that he felt his bodily pains getting soothed to some extent.

Clouds were gathering. The stars disappeared. Darkness grew tenfold. Cold winds blew chillingly. The chill winds cut the open wounds like saws. The wind may result in rain or the clouds may get blown off.

The D.S.P. startled when something cold touched his knee. He felt as though he had pressed with his knee against a snake that was lying coiled. He drew back. A policeman hit the place with the butt of his gun again and again. There was nothing except soft wet earth.

“How far yet form here?”

“We have to go up some more distance, sir!”

The D.S.P. shouted ‘ammo’ with a hoarse voice.

Babu slumped down not being able to walk. Yet he tried to stand up.

“What happened sir?”

“You son of a bitch. It is because of your actions we have to suffer. My knee hit some stone boulder.”

They were going up almost crawling. Only the noise of their movement was heard. Their figures were not visible. They were surrounding the hill from three directions. An hour passed. Their skin was getting tightened in the chill breeze. Babu felt that flies were biting his raw wounds. He felt like scratching the wounds with all his strength.

The clouds moved away in the sky. The stars glowed again twinkling like the hope of the D.S.P. He looked this way and that way climbing the hill. There was another hill by the side of the hill they had climbed. Far away on the right side of the second hill, he saw the flames of fifty or sixty torches. The D.S.P. was terrified. He observed the other three sides. On the other sides also, he saw the flames of burning torches. There was nothing but silence. There was no sound except that of the blowing wind.

At a distance, perhaps, the Circle Inspector lit his matchbox. The D.S.P. hissed ‘sh’ and the light went off. A policeman was carrying Babu on his back. Suddenly he let Babu off his shoulder and adjusted his rifle. Babu fell down and got stuck in the slushy earth. The nails of his feet and the soles were bleeding. He shouted in pain. The policeman hit Babu with his elbow again and again on his back. Babu suppressed his tears as his deep-seated sorrow ebbed out. With great difficulty he controlled himself. In the meanwhile, the voice of the D.S.P. was heard exclaiming ”Bapre!” Babu moved crawling towards the D.S.P. “What happened sir?” he asked looking round.

“Why do you ask me, ‘what happened?’ Look there. See how many of your people are coming to attack me with their torches. What will be their number according to your thinking?”

“I don’t know sir. If about fifty had collected from each village, they might be five hundred Sir.”

“Five hundred! What type of gun does your Chandranna possess?’

“If you call it a gun it won’t be correct sir. If it goes off making a ‘phat phat ‘ sound, no one can stand before it sir. It looks like the weapon used in Hindi films fired during the scenes in the borders, sir.”

“Sten gun?”

“May be, sir.”

A great sound was heard in that silence. Someone was hurtling down along with his rifle. ‘Ya allah!’ a voice cried in agony. The D.S.P. shouted at once.

“Someone has fallen down tripping on something, sir.”

“Who asked you? Shut up.”

One hour passed.

“You fellow, Babu! Why don’t you speak?”

“You asked me to shut my mouth, sir.”

“Look here. The torches are not moving. Only a few are moving. They look like the lanterns kept to keep a watch on the fields. Don’t they, fellow?”

“I think they are what you say, sir.”

“But till now you were saying they were torches.”

“What do I know sir? When you said so I thought they might be torches.”

They climbed another hill. They started combing the area thoroughly. They were all getting wounded and injured. They were losing hope of gaining any advantage. The D.S.P. looked at his radium watch. It was nearing four thirty in the morning. The effect of the drinks they had evaporated long ago. It was biting cold. Everyone was feeling fidgety. The D.S.P. approached Babu. With his palm as thick and hard as the back of the tortoise, he slapped Babu on the face.

“Bastard! Where is Chandranna?”

Babu almost lost his senses, twisted and fell flat on his face. His ear drums seemed to have got affected. He was hearing a humming sound. Blood oozed from his mouth. He tried to spit it out. But he had no energy to do so. The saliva in its fluid state dripped on his vest. The D.S.P went on hitting Babu and he started hiccupping as if his throat would split.

“When so many of you were searching and could not find him how can I detect him?”

“You told me that he met you in these hillocks. You said he had a hiding here. When did he last meet you in these hillocks?”

“Two years ago, sir.”

The D.S.P’s booted foot landed on the ribs of Babu.

‘Ammo’ cried Babu in great agony. His head hit a stone. It was dark all around.

“Chat, Bastard. What did you say a little while ago? You said you met him ten days ago. Now you say something else. Tell the truth, you bastard.”

Babu was losing his senses for the beatings he received. His eyes grew dim. He was slipping into an unconscious state. His body was getting cold. He felt as though he was drifting and floating away as if in a dream. His end was nearing. If he slipped into a coma, his being alive was in doubt. He was trying to maintain his senses alert. He was trying to remember his past. He was able to imagine a vague picture of his past.

School, college, hostel, student’s union, wall-writing, pamphlets and their distribution, processions, meetings at taluk level, district meetings, state meetings, strikes, arrests… that day, ten days ago he and Seenu were pasting posters against lock-up deaths. How they came, he didn’t know. They came suddenly and pounced on them. He didn’t know what happened to Seenu. They put him to torture asking him to show them his room. A friend of a neighbouring village was waiting for him in his room unaware of his being arrested. Tortures again. Mother, father, elder sister, younger sister, brother-in-law, teacher, all were moving away somewhere before his eyes. He was not able to move and slumped there. He was eager to get up.

Yet the torture did not stop. Babu did not open his mouth. He could not weep or cry. The D.S.P. was getting haughty. Babu collected all his wits and spoke word by word with great difficulty.

“First, I told you correctly. You subjected me to severe beating. You pricked pins into my toenails. You stuffed chilli powder into my anus. You beat me with lathis on my nails and soles of my feet. You broke four lathis beating me by asking me whether I met him ten days ago or not. As I could not bear the pain, I said ‘yes’.”

“You bastard. If you are beaten, should you not tell the truth? Will you tell a lie?”

“You beat me when I told you the truth. What should I do? What you said I repeated. Did I not agree when you asked me whether I was involved in particular cases? This is also like that.”

“To what difficulties and troubles, you put us, you bastard!” the D.S.P. shouted with pain holding his knee and slumped down. Darkness. He hit something with his head while falling. His moan increased and his ability to beat decreased.

“You played tricks on us, you fellow. You have lost fear of our treatment. I will subject you to a greater torture, you bastard. Will I permit you to die happily? ‘Oh’!” he shrieked in great pain, gnashing his teeth.

It was nearing dawn. The three groups of policemen approached the D.S.P. from different directions. The black topped road was shining at a distance. A lorry which had not switched off its headlights went past that way.

“Arre! Is this not the Warangal-Siddipet road! These are Ratnagiri hills on this side of Husnabad. We should have travelled by jeep up to this point. You made us crawl on all fours for ten kilometers, you bloody bastard.”

The Superintendent of Police (S.P.) pulled up Babu holding his vest and repeatedly beat him.

“I don’t know. I don’t know this route. I showed you the route by which I came.”

“You bastard. Your village is situated by the side of this hillock, don’t you know?” So, saying the S.I. hit Babu in his ribs. The vest got torn in the S.I.’s hand as Babu turned and fell down again.

 The jeeps and vans went round and took the black topped road. Babu was again thrown into the jeep.

Babu vaguely remembered that he was put in the lock-up after an hour. He was very drowsy. It was evening by the time he got senses. He was hungry. He was able to see white stripes. Perhaps it was a hospital. The Circle Inspector (C.I.), the D.S.P. and the police all had white bands on their cheeks, legs and heads.

He wanted to laugh but did not know why. His waist made a cracking sound. He stretched his hand for water. His shoulder nerves felt heavy and jerked. There was pain all over the body as he recovered sensation. He slipped into an unconscious state without drinking water.

~*~

I came to know of his arrest that evening, that too through his elder sister who visited me. I do not know how she got the news. She wept uncontrollably. My wife too shed tears. His sister fell at my feet crying. In her view I was an acquaintance that enjoyed high status.

My eyes became moist hearing the accounts. My wife cried aloud. I didn’t know what to do. I came to know for the first time how helpless we were if the police swing into action. We knew that his parents were in Zammikunta Police station. They were arrested before everyone. Babu’s relations knew that he was in the Huzurabad lock-up. Everyone knew that he was arrested ten days ago but nothing could be done about it. The police were convinced that the acts, the constitution and the human rights were not for them. The police also believed that if the people knew about all this, they could do nothing. Who will beat their confidence?

I cannot put on paper the agony I underwent at that moment. It was an ordeal by fire for me. I then grasped why the police kill people and why they permit them to be alive. Could I do anything having known all these things? I have the reputation of having been in the Union. But the situation at present was different. I felt that all my friends who supported my theories were strangers at that moment. I did not get this feeling any time before. How surprising!

I did not know what to do. I ran to my old friend Chander Rao who used to work in our team. I felt uneasy as never before. He was an advocate who got many people arrested. He used to laugh with vengeance as they shouted their lungs out rotting in lockups for many days.

But I am a human being. I respect humanism first before all other aspects. Theories and agitations come next. Should I kill the humanism in me for the sake of my friends? Is it a crime to ask people to respect them as citizens and punish them as per the acts of justice?

He laughed away my words. That laughter was an old habit. I have seen him laugh many times. But on that day a new meaning struck me regarding that laughter. I felt disgusted at seeing him laugh that day. I could not stay there any longer.

My wife cried helplessly. He was her brother. Was he not my disciple also! Some feeling of courage, some bravery overpowered me then as I assured myself with a sort of self-confidence that I was doing a good deed. I started out with his sister prepared for whatever to happen. The policemen were seen busily moving about with their bandages. Babu was not able to observe all this as he was in a different world. If we had not gone to the police station at that time, no one knew what the police would have done to him. That thought now makes me experience goose pimples all over my body.

 The atmosphere in the police station was weird. As we entered the station, I felt my body tremble with a strange tremor. I wanted to shout at the pitch of my voice and ask many questions. But I could not open my mouth and utter even a few words. I looked this way and that way searching with my eyes for Babu. He was lying motionless like a corpse, nay, worse than a corpse. His body had blackened and the lathi blows had turned into wounds and appeared like the stripes of a tiger. The wounds were bleeding and flies were settling on the wounds that were drying up. The flies that settled on his lips got stuck in the congealed blood. The person who was by his side was trying to awake Babu from his unconscious state. But there was no movement in his body.

His sister fell at the feet of the D.S.P. and the C.I. She cried as though her heart would break. Her seven-year-old son also started to cry with fear, observing his mother cry and hugged his mother. The police officers shook off the boy’s mother with their feet. I do not understand even till today how I could bear that scene. 

The boy fell flat on his face at a little distance. His mother took three turns and fell down like a hen whose neck was slashed off. Were my spirits dead? I tried to shout at the pitch of my voice. I hardly could hear my voice making a prayerful appeal.

The police officers kept silent. They did not tell where he and his parents were. They abused his sister, for being his sister, using unprintable words. They told all lies. They did not allow either to see him or talk to him.

Later they retained him for ten more days with them. They foisted false cases that he murdered someone and had committed theft and sent him to the Karimnagar sub-jail.

The sub-jail was a little better than other jails. Perhaps after a month, I applied for leave and went to see him. There was not much of a rush that day to meet the prisoners. I could get the interview soon. The atmosphere was a little pleasant. 

By then his wounds were healing up. The stripes on his body were still there caused by the lathi blows. The signs of torture were seen on the fingers and on the toenails of his feet. His cheek had a black spot now. He had thinned. Yet the face was bright. He had not recovered his health fully. 

I looked into his eyes with affection. What a surprise! There was not a trace of dejection in his eyes or face. How calm and clear they were! There was a new sparkle in his eyes. He looked very sprightly, full of spirits.

I wanted to apologize to him for having come so late to meet him. But I could not express myself. I tried to say something but bent my head. He could understand everything, guess everything. He smiled imperceptibly. 

For the first time, I felt then- that he had grown very tall, taller than me in spirit.

He was asking about my wife and our children. His voice, most surprisingly, was dignified like the voice of our Principal. Was it not to see and meet my student that I went there? I felt I had met a friend! The teacher in me got faded and the disciple in him was born!

Those moments of change were strange moments. They were very sweet moments. How easily and smoothly the change occurred! He looked into my eyes. He asked many questions with his eyes. I too looked into his eyes! There was a flash as if electric wires touched each other. I was shocked. They were not ordinary looks. There were x-rays in them. I lowered my eyes not being able to look any longer.

I know my weakness. All my friends looked at me suspiciously as I went to the police station. As I approached the Andhra Pradesh Civil Laboratories Committee (A.P.C.L.C.) Japa Lakshma Reddy, the links got broken. They attacked me like a group of crows. I do not know why, I got terrified. That was why I transferred the case to Japa Lakshma Reddy. I did not poke my nose into the case again.

My wife did not know that the situation would become topsy-turvy. The fear of society made my wife surrender her personal love. As a matter of fact, I too could not understand the situation. I could guess about some changes but did not imagine that they would go so far. It did not strike me. But an internal assessment started in me. I could not sleep at night. The figures of Appu and Chirukanda started appearing before me. I used to feel their hand on my shoulder in a gesture of affection and love asking me with a smile to decide one way or the other. I felt as though they were confronting me with more and more affection, more sharply than ever.

I could not bear it any longer. It took such a long time to arrive at a decision. How can I tell him about all this? I had no heart to destroy the regard he had for my wife. I had no mind to belittle myself too. That was the reason why I could not speak out. Yet, he understood everything. 

He behaved in a very dignified manner without mentioning any of those problems. I did not notice when my voice changed from that of the old teacher to that of a friend. I never imagined that his eyes could bombard me with questions of such a severe nature. Even today those same eyes, those same questions haunt my memory.

I adjusted my throat and changed the topic. I enquired where Seenu was. He smiled mischievously. It was clear that Seenu was safe outside the police net. It was a wonder how a five-minute interview brought about so many changes in me.

~*~

I did not go to jail after that meeting. I was afraid that his looks, the same looks and the same questions, would haunt me. They did not stop haunting me though I did not go again. He writes letters now and then. He was shifted from Karimnagar to Warangal, from there to Rajahmundry and from there to Vishakapatnam. But he did not yield to them.

He is now in Rajahmundry jail. The letter I received three days ago was from Rajahmundry. I did not give a reply to him at all. He would not have guessed how my situation changed and to what extent during these three years because of him.

Seenu met me a year ago unexpectedly. I did not recognize him in the beginning. It was he who started the conversation. I was surprised. I found the same flash in his eyes also. The same questions. Suddenly I remembered Appu, Chirukanda and the teacher.

Later none of them met me. But their looks still haunt me. The respect they extend to me pierces me painfully and keeps questioning me.

My family is now disintegrating. All my old friends treat me as an enemy. I have not done them any injustice. When I remember my old friends who entertain dual values, I feel very sad. Some of them tried to get me arrested and get me suspended twice in recent times. With that I had to leave them as well as the teacher’s union. I realized how ridiculous their contention was that our lives and the Union were two separate entities. As a result, I had no other option than leaving the Union. The Union that exists now has a strong heart and so the gimmicks of people do not influence us.

In this manner, the foundations of my social life and family life got shaken. My wife who entrusted Babu to me got changed. She who had great liking for them now does not care or bother about them. She does not read his letters. I know that her anger is not real and that it is a mother reacting with love. But it takes some time for this change.

Now along with my wife, many old friends distance themselves from me. Some scolded me. Some felt sorry for me. Some advised me not to destroy my life. Why, my wife who loved Babu and Seenu so ardently thrashed my elder son as she saw maroon paint on his pants. She detected that he had indulged in wall writing.

I am not hurt at my old friends distancing themselves from me. Advocate Chander Rao. He extracted five hundred rupees from Babu’s parents. They too did not tell me about this, perhaps it was Chander Rao who threatened them not to reveal it to me. He could not manage to bring them out on bail even in one case. On the other hand, he tried to squeeze more and more money from them. If they had anything left to mortgage, they would have done so. He knocked off their money, subjected their people to torture and yet got off as a gentleman. Among my old friends, people of this kind are in a large number. I did not decide to dishonor them. That is not in my hands also. Now they are considered as important people. For having tried to help Babu, I have become a stooge of China and Russia in their view. How strange this is! Values that have gone topsy turvy are being honored in our society! Is there no truth in what Babu and Seenu say!?

~*~

Yet another time……… yet another time.......

Once more, I read the letter for the tenth time. My mind got perplexed. Sad news on one side, joy on the other and an overall wonderment were getting mixed up and were all rolling into one.

That letter was also from Rajahmundry. But it was not written by Babu. Someone not belonging to the jail wrote it. It was surprising. Also disturbing. I stayed away at home fair copying this story. I had not even eaten my breakfast. My wife stopped talking to me three days ago. So, it was okay. But I was feeling hungry. Yet, I sat tight in order to complete the story. In the meanwhile, the postman shouted ‘post’. The letter he threw in fell at my feet. I read it eagerly. It was written about Babu.

It appears a strike was organized in the jail, that the prisoners should be provided with minimum comforts, that the manual should be implemented, that the prisoners should be taken to the courts for adjournments, that the undertrials should be treated as citizens. Babu was on hunger strike for ten days along with two others. The wardens and guards made lathi charges. Babu and another prisoner fell unconscious and were taken to the hospital. They were kept in the I.C.U.

I suspected some evil foreboding. I had heard that if a person who was subjected to torture develops pain in the wounds, it was not possible to live. In the place of Babu, I was seeing vaguely my elder son’s figure. My legs started trembling. Also, I do not know why. All round me I found restrictions growing. How pitiful it is when there is no one with whom you could share joy or sorrow! The one person available at home went on a silent strike!

I was near my wife who was angry with me. I spoke to her with a tremor in my voice. She looked at me as if asking ‘what?’ I cajoled her. Begged her. Finally, I could read the letter aloud to her.

She pulled away the letter from me. She too read it. She started to cry. Why this double standard? There was a game played between life and ideals, between ideals and love. But it was clear that he could give a ‘treatment’ with death also. He should be made to live. He kept up his individuality even in adverse circumstances.

It was not a simple thing to keep correcting small mistakes and grow to great heights in one’s individuality. It is his individuality that makes his friends admire him and his enemies to be afraid of him. His life shaped him.

Something was happening. Something that I do not know. He should live. I must take his parents and go to Rajahmundry immediately. The questions in his looks should be answered. My wife was prodding me to start immediately. She called our eldest son and said to him, “You are going out though you are asked not to go. Why don’t you paste those posters today?”

Today I feel proud as if I have conquered the world. I did not know till today that conquering the world meant conquering oneself. I walked out of the house in great haste and took the road to the bus station.

Now I have no fear. Now I can answer his questions which have been haunting me these three years. I can look straight into his eyes now. Their questions do not frighten me hereafter.

 If something untoward happens, I will continue their journey. I will grow into the teacher they wanted me to become. No. No. I too will walk with them, keeping me company.

Ambition is as high as a mountain. Fear as deep as a valley. He will live. Do you ask why I say so! Are not Chirukandadu and Appu immortal? 

Original in Telugu published in Sameeksha Monthly, 1986.