Transformation ***

Mai had just woken up. The rains had spawned swarms of mosquitoes, which were most active in the hours before dawn. Mai had woken up to their incessant singing in her ears. But she accepted the mosquitoes. They were part of life here in Ulu Benteng. She drank up the hot tepid sago soup her mother served up. She loved its sweet sticky taste. As she washed the coconut shell bowl at the stream behind her house, she saw Epit and Lawi. The two girls were across the stream, just behind the banana grove. As she watched, they spotted her, and excitedly waved her to come over. Mai scooted back to her hut, deposited the bowl, and before her mother could see her, raced to the stream. She gingerly crossed the coconut tree trunk which served as a bridge, and reaching the other side quickly joined her friends. They were crouching behind a thick clump of bushes. “What are you doing?”
Epit looked up, and smiled an evil smile. “A doll. It looks like Kanit.” The girls giggled. Mai squatted beside them. She saw the doll take shape, in Lawi’s expert hands. She carved the bamboo, and glued on the coconut fibres on with tree sap.

Across the clearing, there was furtive activity in the treetops. Masu sat on the branch. The boys were all munching on the delicious mangoes. And then, they saw Landai, the crazy man, passing below them. Masu winked at his friends. And they all smiled conspiratorially. In a moment, they disappeared among the thick leaves.
“Adoi, sapa tu?” An unripe mango had hit Landai right on his head. He looked up, searching the tree. He could see nothing. Landai walked away muttering to himself. As soon as he had disappeared, the boys reappeared, guffawing.

The boys descended to the clearing. They had carved the tops out of the guava branches, and were ready to test them out. Masu was first. His top spun beautifully, drawing sighs of grudging admiration from the other boys. Some of their tops just spun erratically before stumbling. But the boys were not disheartened. They carved the tops, experimenting with the shape until they got it perfect.

***
The village elders were gathered in front of the chieftain’s house. The children hung around to see what the excitement was about. “Some friends are coming from the big city. They want to help us. They will build water pipes to our houses. They will build toilets. They will give our children toys and sweets.”

Everyone was excited. Their lives would be so much better. They would have facilities like in the big town.

***
The people from the town had been coming every month. They had dug up the land and installed pipes to bring water to the homes. They had built toilets behind every house. They had handed out sweets, cereals, canned food, keropok, potato chips, sweets, chocolates and biscuits. All the children had Barbie dolls, plastic trucks and construction sets and so many other toys. The village of Ulu Benteng was transformed.

***
The stream was an eyesore. Its banks were littered with unsightly styrofoam and plastic and rusted tin cans. Stinking black trickles of water leaked from the toilets, truning the stream water a dirty grey. No one bathed there any longer.

The water came in a trickle. The pipe just spluttered. Epit knew that his neighbour was drawing more water than he should. This was why he himself was not getting the water. There was a big fight. In the process, Epit’s wife Kunat was fatally stabbed. The two neighbours were sworn enemies now.

Koding’s baby son was delirious with fever. He was hot for a while and then cold. Ampak the village medicine man could do nothing. Soon Koding’s other son was sick too. And within days, many in the village had succumbed to the strange illness. Later when the doctors from the big city arrived, they said it was cholera. Spread from the toilets.

Mai was so addicted to the sweets and the cereals and biscuits that she hated the sago soup her mother served. She was thin and emaciated, and often lay in her house. She stayed indoors, playing with the broken Barbie. Nowadays most of the children were not to be seen outdoors. They were at home. Sometimes sick. Sometimes playing alone with the plastic toys.

Life in Ulu Benteng had been transformed

Excitement ***

The heat was oppressive, but the three boys sat on the five-foot-way. There was little traffic on this hot afternoon. But they waited patiently. As they watched, the old man came by on his bicycle. He was moving so slowly that he looked almost stationary. As he cycled, his head was bowed. He watched the road. The boys watched him. The front wheel went directly over the paper. And then, the old man wobbled slightly. He had seen it ! There was visible excitement, and anxiety among the boys. Naser half stood. The old man wobbled to a halt. he looked back at the red paper fluttering lazily in the still air. He looked alert. He looked around as he brought down the stand on his bicycle. Then he walked back, warily keeping a lookout. Naser crouched, ready to go. Just as the old man was about to stoop to pick up the paper, a gust of wind blew it away a few inches. And as he straightened and moved after it, Naser beat him to it. Naser picked up the paper, almost snatching it from the old man's fingers.

"Eh, boy, I saw it first. Give it to me," the old man staggered. He was desperate. Naser looked at him. The sweat glistened on his wrinkled face. The old man looked almost comical in his anger. Naser clutched the paper and held it behind him. "No, uncle, I saw it first." The old man was surprisingly agile. He grabbed Naser, and wrenched the paper from his clenched fist. Then he pushed Naser away. As he walked back to his bicycle, Naser yelled at him, "Pencuri. It is mine," and headed back to the other boys. From behind the pillar the three watched. The old man reached his bicycle, and after furtively looking back, opened his palms expectantly. The red paper looked very different up close. It was not a $10 note. It was just a bit of red paper. He examined it, turning it over and over. As disappointment gave way to shame and embarrassment, he looked back at the boys. They were rolling in laughter. The old man crumpled up the paper, got on his bicycle and cycled away. Even slower this time.

Passion ***

Bhupathi was in a reverie. He smiled as he watched the pencil move effortlessly. The pattern that emerged was magical. The shades of grey were impossibly perfect. Each had its own intricate meaning, its own story to tell. Each shape came to life as he watched. A magnificent fairy tale. Bhupathi put down the pencil. He watched the page. The diagrams and formulae blurred to oblivion. Only the pattern he had created remained. It was exhilarating and energizing.

A rude knock on his head startled Bhupathi. He almost fell off the chair from the force of the blow.“What the hell are you doing? You dumb imbecile? You have doodled all over your text book. What’s wrong with this boy? He is just hopeless. Have you no shame... ”, the words, jarring at first, soon became a monotonous drone. Bhupathi stood by the chair. He felt nothing. He heard nothing. But he longed to be alone with his fantasy again. Maheswaran was livid. He could sense Bhupathi ignoring him totally, and this incensed him even more. He flew into a rage, and threw the book, the bag and a few other things he found on the table at his son. He then stomped off, shaking in anger. Vennila came over and comforted him. “Look, Mahes, calm down. Your shouting is not doing any good. And it’s late. We have to leave now.”

***

Bhupathi was alone and hungry. The SPM results had come that morning. As expected, he had just scraped through. Except for the languages. And of course art, where he got a high A. His parents had gone on and on all morning. His father had all but disowned him. And now they had gone away. Bhupathi was alone. And hungry. But as he sat at the window, he sensed a different hunger.

***

Bhupathi packed a few essentials. His favourite T-shirt, shorts, toothbrush. And of course the colour pencils and crayons. He walked out of the house. It did not even occur to him to lock the place. He just walked out.

***

The loud honking woke Bhupathi. He sat up, and wiped the dribble of saliva from the corner of his mouth. The bus was empty and dark. Bhupathi got off. As he walked, he felt an indescribable joy. The sun was rising. Everything was ok.

***

Bhupathi sat at the park. The charcoal sketch was a haunting abstract. A crowd of onlookers stood in silence watching Bhupathi’s fine moves. As he finished and stood up. The crowd burst into ovation. Bhupathi bowed. Then he took the piece and presented it to an old man, who was watching uncertainly from the fringes of the crowd. The man was moved to tears, and as he sobbed, Bhupathi hugged him.

The gap ***

I paused. Second thoughts. But the experience always assured an adrenaline surge. I looked around. Nobody. Swiftly I entered the space. It was about 2 feet wide. The floor was strewn with rubble and debris. I gingerly stepped over the rubble, heart pounding. I stopped and glanced up. The blue sky appeared like a slit, startlingly bright against the bleak unplastered walls. As I looked, the wallls appeared to move closer. I quickly looked down, taking a few moments to readjust to the dark gloom. I moved slowly forward. The gap was not much more than a foot now. I had to turn sideways to get through. My shoulders were scraping the rough walls. Now the walls were touching against my body. Almost coming together to crush me. Straight ahead the gap narrowed, the walls converging about 20 feet away. The feeling was at once exhilarating and excruciating. I breathed a sigh, and squeezed a little forward. Just then, a scrambling sound. Panic. Just as i started to move backwards, all of a sudden, a hand pressed my head forward. My heart beat thunderously. “Dey, vidura.” A frantic scream. But the hand pressed relentlessly. I was close to hysteria. The claustropobhia was overpowering. I strained backwards. And suddenly he let go. I fell backwards, scraping against the rough walls. I tried to regain my footing. Several times the walls seemed to be enveloping me, pushing me down again and again. At last I clambered onto my feet and moved backwards, and after what seemed like an eternity emerged into the sunlight. The relief swept over me like a wave.