by Benyamin
As Andrapper had written, most of them were nude pictures, and Tamil news and songs. None of us could decode anything suspicious from them. As nobody among us could read Tamil, even the details Andrapper had given about the news couldn’t be independently verified.
‘This won’t help us to know more about Senthil,’ Salim said. ‘For that, we need to prepare for another journey. To Pondicherry. We have one address left. 27, Shalai Street, Kottakuppam Post, Villupuram District, Tamil Nadu, Pin 605104. Abdul Majid’s residential address. That’s where we should start our hunt for Senthil.’
‘No, it shouldn’t be from there,’ Nibu interrupted. ‘I think we should start from Hotel Park Plaza. From the receptionist Manoj!’
‘Will that be possible?’ Biju asked.
‘Why not? If Andrapper can travel alone from Diego to that place, why can’t the seven of us do the rest of the miles?’
‘Okay, we’ll travel. But who among us?’
‘The one looking for a thrill. Let Nattapranthan go,’ Nibu suggested.
‘I’ll go,’ Nattapranthan agreed. ‘Who’ll join me?’
‘I’m ready.’ I took the responsibility of being the writer.
‘Me too,’ Salim said.
Thus we decided. According to the plan, two Saturdays later, on a weekend, which was followed by a public holiday, three of us started out on our trip to Chennai and Pondicherry.
Our plan was to stay at Hotel Park Plaza and start our investigation from there. But once we heard of the room tariffs at the Park Plaza, we dumped the plan. We booked a cheaper hotel nearby and tried to start the probe. But then we came to know that Manoj Thomas, the receptionist who had promised to help Andrapper, had shifted from the place. We approached the boy who had replaced him and asked about Faisal Bava, but he was a pain, not responding to sweet talk or threats. So we had to call off the attempt.
The next day we set off for Pondicherry via Mamallapuram. We roamed around the Pallava temples there for about two hours. That was also fated to be part of the trip.
It was past noon when we reached Kottakuppam. Shalai street was obviously a Muslim neighbourhood. We didn’t have to sweat much to find the Juma Masjid and Yazar’s shop nearby. When we asked about the house of Abdul Majid who works in Diego, a boy accompanied us to the house. It was a big two-storeyed bungalow. Nobody would imagine that a waiter in a coffee shop in Diego was the owner of the house. It was so palatial. When we said we had come from Diego to tour Pondicherry and that Abdul Majid had told us to come here, his Appa showered us with love. ‘He is the blessing of this house. He married off his three sisters. Jobs for five brothers, this house, car, everything we owe to the money he sends from Diego,’ Appa proudly presented all the good deeds that Abdul Majid had done for the family in the past twenty years.
When we asked about Senthil who used to visit them regularly from Diego, he screamed, ‘Ada paavi’, and slammed his chest. ‘Ennada ungalude Diego, such a gentleman got killed and you couldn’t find the killer!’ he bawled.
‘Did Senthil come here regularly?’ Salim asked in broken Tamil.
‘Once a month for sure.’
‘What was the purpose of his visits? What business was he doing here?’ I asked.
‘Some official purpose. Who knows!’
Just then, his youngest son, Kabir, who studied in college, came home. We asked him too about the purpose of Senthil’s visits. He didn’t know the name of the office, but he knew that it was in Rajaji Nagar. That was all we wanted. After having pakku vada and tea that Majid’s mother affectionately served us, we left the house. Rajaji Nagar was our next target.
‘If there are some ten offices there, how will we figure out the right one?’ I shared my doubt with the others while in the bus from Kottakuppam to Pondicherry.
‘Then we’ll go to all ten offices. We’ll ask at every place if they knew of one Senthil from Diego,’ Salim said with his usual self-confidence.
My worries about Rajaji Nagar turned out to be true. The street was full of office complexes. We walked reading each office name plate. Mother’s Service Society, Saraswati Shanmugham Charitable Trust, Urvasi Foundation, Children’s Action Trust, Amar Seva Sangham, Vivasayangal Urpathiyalar Sangham, Raj Foundation, Association of Non-traditional Employment, Bhagavan Mahavir Foundation, Tamil Deseeya Pengal Viduthalai Izhakkam, CDDP, ACIK, Dhan Foundation . . . So many non-profit, charity and NGO offices!
‘God, we have so many social workers and still India is struggling with poverty and inequality,’ said Nattapranthan, placing his hand on his head.
Even Salim, who was confident that we would ‘ask at every place’ got discouraged by the number of offices. We were confused where to start our search from. But after two or three turns, when we reached the third street, we saw a board in English and Tamil, in front of which we stood dumbstruck for around ten minutes.
Uthiyan Cheral Tamil Kazhagam!
Excited with the find, Nattapranthan hugged me. ‘This is the real snake we were hunting down!’
But I was feeling uneasy. A fear about what kind of trouble we were getting into. Salim led us inside, as if ready to face any consequences. We followed him.
There was one peon there. We struggled a lot to converse with him because of his indecipherable Tamil. Somehow, we made him understand that we needed to meet some senior person. The boy called up the office secretary. He came within ten minutes. Luckily, he knew some Malayalam!
When we told him we were tourists from Diego and that we had heard of this organization before and wanted to know more, he took us to his office room. He gave us brochures and described the activities of Uthiyan Cheral Kazhagam.
‘It is a non-profit organization that works for Tamils across the world. Anyone can work with us, no matter what his religion or caste or group or politics. Our main aim is to protect orphans and widows. Also, to nurture the basic talents of people, encourage them to be good citizens, help them succeed in life. . . we work for all that. We also do career-development courses, facilitates the conducting of IQ and aptitude tests, and promotes Tamil language and culture. Last year, we did an aptitude test for around eight lakh children across the world. We have adopted 120,000 orphaned kids. Last year, we distributed forty tonnes of rice among the poor. All this was possible thanks to God Almighty . . .’ he kept talking.
‘Do you have any branches in Diego Garcia?’ I asked, interrupting his discourse.
‘Not just Diego, we have branches in all countries. Local clubs and societies help us with that. In Diego, a group called Madras Tamil Munrum is affiliated to us,’ he said after checking a long list.
‘One Senthil used to come here from Diego regularly. What was that for?’ Salim asked.
‘Senthil . . . Who is that?’ He didn’t seem to know.
‘The same Senthil who was shot dead in Diego!’ When I said that, he was taken aback. But he recovered quickly.
‘Why, you don’t know Senthil?’ I asked in a serious tone.
‘Actually, who are you guys? What do you want?’ That question showed that he knew Senthil.
‘We work with a newspaper in Diego. The fax you had sent was to our paper.’
‘That was a while ago. Why are you asking about it now?’
‘It is now that the Diego police have started looking at it. One police officer has already been suspended. Our Diego Daily wants to do a follow-up story. Please tell us the details you know about the case,’ said Nattapranthan.
‘When you write your newsreports, please don’t put our name. It’s bad for an organization like us that does charity work. That’s a request I have for you.’ He was almost begging us.
‘Yeah, we agree to that,’ Nattapranthan said. ‘Under no circumstances will we use your name or the organization’s name. Tell us all you know.’
‘Udiyan Cheral Tamil Kazhagam has an agent in every country. They come here once in a while. There is nothing special about it. That’s just part of their social commitment. When I heard such a nice per
son suddenly died, I had some doubts. So I sent the fax . . .’
‘What’s the reason for you having those doubts?’
‘He was working there in the tax office, right? He always used to say that he had a lot of enemies.’
‘Who were those enemies, did he ever tell you?’
‘Who knows! Must be those who didn’t want to pay tax, who else . . . You have to find out who they are.’
‘There are many stories in Diego linking Uthiyan Kazhagam with the murder. Do you have anything to say on that?’
‘People can make up stories. For a social organization like ours that is running well, there will be a lot of stories written about us. We don’t care,’ he said with contempt.
‘Do you have anything more on Senthil to tell us?’
‘No, this is all I know.’
Knowing that we would not be able to get more from him, we left. The rest of the day, we roamed around Pondicherry. Late in the night, we returned in a bus to Ernakulam.
Later, the Thursday Market called the trip the most non-productive trip we’ve ever had. Salim opposed it, saying that we should not expect every trip to be totally successful or that it should reveal a trove of secrets. But all three of us regretted that we didn’t discover more during the trip.
‘Next time, we’ll bring a bomb that’ll surprise you all,’ Nattapranthan challenged.
Though he said that in jest, such a challenge was in my mind too!
Celebration
I WAS IN that daring state of mind when I got a call from Jijo quite unexpectedly.
‘Sir, the matter you had asked me to find out, that ceremony . . .’
‘Yeah, yeah, any details of that?’ I hurriedly asked.
‘No, but there is one thing. There is some event planned next week at Valyedathu Veedu. I overheard Appachan here telling Ammachi. I asked them, but they didn’t tell me much.’
‘You have any idea what it is about, Jijo?’
‘My engineering brain tells me that there is only one speciality for the day that Appachan was talking about. It was the same day, a year ago, that Melvin’s forty-one-day ceremony was carried out. If there is celebration on that day, that means the ritual Andrapper had seen will be repeated. I am guessing this, what do you think?’
‘Full marks to your engineering brain. I guess you are right. Even in science, such assumptions lead to the truth. We have to somehow find the truth this time. Can Appachan be swayed?’
‘Don’t think so. He is tough.’
‘What’s his weakness? We’ll use that.’
‘I’ve been trying to find that out for the last ten to twenty years. He’s a difficult catch.’
‘OK. Let me discuss this with my Thursday Market. I will call you back.’ That day itself I gathered the gang and presented the matter. Nobody had any idea how to buy off Jijo’s Appachan. But everyone agreed that this chance should not be wasted at any cost.
For that, it was decided that two of us would go and meet Jijo and make a plan for the crucial day. To restore the pride lost in the Pondicherry trip, Salim and Nattapranthan volunteered to go. Accordingly, they went to Kothamangalam College to meet Jijo. Knowing that he had our support and help, Jijo’s excitement increased. During their meeting, a plan came up. On the morning of the day of celebration, Jijo goes to Valyedathu Veedu as if on a casual visit. He’ll hide a camera without anyone noticing. Salim promised to get a small movie camera that could hold its charge for around twelve hours. After planning to meet on the appointed day at Udayamperoor, they dispersed.
None of us had such a camera. Salim contacted one of his friends in Bangalore and got a camera that could retain its charge for a decent time. With that, we arrived Udayamperoor. Salim, Anil and I were in the team. As decided, Jijo arrived in front of Udayamperoor’s Old Church at 5 p.m.
We had tea at a nearby restaurant and discussed the itinerary.
‘Look, Jijo, it’s our responsibility to protect you in this operation. We’ll even die, but won’t betray you. You have to trust us. This is a joint operation. Success is our common aim,’ Anil said.
‘The visuals we shoot will be attributed to Andrapper. So we should capture them from where he had stayed before: Melvin’s room on the second floor. To be precise, the money plant that obstructed his view should still be there. If possible, we should place the camera among its leaves. Then we are safe,’ Salim said.
‘Now, let Jijo go to Valyedathu Veedu to get a feel of what’s happening there. Let’s think of the camera later,’ I suggested.
‘No, give me the camera. I’ll do things according to the circumstances.’ Jijo appeared confident.
Salim handed the camera to him and explained its settings and operation. ‘Okay, then. We’ll be right here. If you need any help, please call.’
We went to the Old Church and walked around it. Then went to Thaikkattamma’s chapel. It had been renovated through the donation of some believer in the Gulf. We thought of going to Poothotta to see Martha Mariam Church and Melvin’s grave, but then Jijo called. ‘I’m coming. Please wait.’ Within ten minutes, his bike came and stopped in front of our car. We got out anxiously. ‘What happened?’
‘I’ve placed it.’ His hands were shaking while he said it. ‘Some three or four Appachans and Ammachis have come. When he was busy talking to them, I went upstairs. I kept it where you wanted it to be kept. Now that money plant has grown bigger. Nobody will be able to spot the camera. Now it just needs to be switched on.’
Anil hugged him to make him relax.
‘If no issue pops up, I’ll stay there tonight. Then I can also see the whole thing in person,’ Jijo said, kick-starting his bike.
‘Either way it’s okay. But call us.’ We bid him goodbye with a thumbs-up gesture.
To avoid any suspicion, we also started our car and drove away.
It was around seven in the night. Eight. Nine. Ten. There was no call yet from Jijo. When we tried to call, it said he was out of coverage area. In between, there was a string of calls from Nibu and company to know about the developments. The more time passed without any news, the more worried we became. ‘Shall we go there?’ Salim asked. ‘No, he is smarter than us. And bold,’ Anil stopped him. We waited till midnight. Then we lost all hope and returned to Ernakulam. We took a hotel room. None of us could sleep. Our thoughts were all about Jijo. A gnawing fear that we had put him in trouble. Nobody said it aloud, though.
I dozed off sometime in the morning. When the phone rang, I jumped up from the bed. It was Jijo. I was so angry. ‘Where the hell were you till now? Why didn’t you call?’
‘I will explain in detail. Where are you guys?’
I told him the hotel’s name.
‘Okay, I’m coming there.’
I woke up Salim and Anil. Within an hour or so, the room bell rang, and all three of us rushed to the door.
‘Are you all right?’ That’s the first thing we all asked when Jijo entered.
‘All good. Operation successful!’
‘Then why didn’t you call? You know how worried we were . . .?’
‘I couldn’t call. I’ll tell you in detail,’ he sat on the sofa. We sat around him.
‘When I arrived at night, a lot of people were there. All familiar faces—relatives and near ones. Around fifty of them. Meljo panicked when he saw me. He asked me why I had not left. I lied that my bike had a puncture on the way, so I came back.
‘Why are so many people here,’ I asked. “Oh, you forgot . . . tomorrow is Chechi’s anniversary,” he told me a big lie. In between, he took my mobile phone saying he’ll return it soon. Then it went missing. “I had kept there, I’d given it back to you, the kids must have taken it . . .” and such other excuses. He also made sure that I wouldn’t stay there overnight. He led me to a room at a nearby guest house.’
‘So did our camera plan fail?’ Anil asked.
‘No, let me continue. I got an opportunity during dinner. I quietly went upstairs and switched it on. It was good
that we had concealed it there beforehand. It would have been impossible to get it there at night. I prowled around the house twice at night, hoping I would get to hear something. But not a single sound was audible.’
‘What would have taken place there?’
‘That’s what we have placed the camera there for,’ Jijo said, taking out the camera from his pocket. Anil snatched it with excitement. Salim brought his laptop and connected the camera.
‘Then, where did you find your mobile?’ I asked him.
‘That’s the joke. In the morning, when I had gone to retrieve this camera, the phone was lying there on the sofa. Switched off. Meljo blamed the children again.’
‘The Appachans who had come left in the night itself?’
‘No, no. They are having a mass at the church for Melvin, for name’s sake.’
By then, the video started playing. All of us became silent. There was not much in the beginning. Images of people walking here and there. But to know that the camera had indeed worked was a relief. Then slowly, people started gathering in the courtyard. Excitement gripped us. After some time, Meljo came and placed a lamp in the middle of the hall. People sat around it and started clapping hands and singing. The audio was not very clear. Two priests came towards them.
Suddenly, everything turned dark. We were shocked. Oh God, what’s this! We all slammed our hands on our heads. When we checked again, it was a leaf that had fallen on the camera.
With hope and curiosity, we forwarded the entire video. But nothing more was there in it. In the dark-green vagueness created by the leaf, we could only get some audio of the songs and ringing of bells. We were all depressed. For a long while, we couldn’t talk to each other. Out of sadness, our words got stuck in the throat. My eyes were filled with tears. Jijo started crying.
‘This is more than enough . . . to suck the venom out of that snake. Leave it to me,’ Anil said after a while, with some plan in mind. We stared at him, wondering what he could mean. ‘Benyamin and I are going to meet him again,’ Anil said.
