Chillari - Chapter 2

Read the earlier part here before proceeding further...



Although I had tried, I just wasnt fast enough to reach the car from the teashop. So once again in a gap of a week, I saw another kid being pulled into the confines of the rear seats of the car. Just as I reached about two feet behind, the car which was slowly idling and gently moving forward, spun its wheels and took off like a rocket, leaving behind dust and splashing water on me. At least this time I was closer and was in a position to do something about it. Unlike the last time. Chandru. The last thing i recall about him was his face, frozen, without any emotions of surprise or fear being jerked into the same car that I was following now.

The car raced through the wet roads of the city at breakneck speed, but well within creating any mishaps. I kept up as much closely as I could without sliding down the tar roads. It required all of my driving skills and focus to avoid the potholes, disguised by the stagnating water in it and keep the vehicle in sight. We came tearing out of GP road onto Mount road without losing speed or toppling over, both of which I had so far thought impossible to do. Both of us sped on Mount road, weaving between the slight traffic at that hour.

I wiped my face, not knowing if it was rain or tears that blinded me. The past one week had been a myriad of emotions. Shock at the accident that I had caused. Relief that there wasnt any serious injury to the boy. Happiness at the friendship that I made with him over the next two days over cups of tea. Expectation when I went to meet him on that day to give him my old pairs of jeans. Shock at seeing him plucked off the road like a wayward flower. Anger at myself for not doing anything. Frustration with the police for not taking my words seriously. Both of these led me down the path of discovery of the underground life in Chennai, into the dark world occupied by these invisible citizens clinging on to life at its lowest form in a city growing huge on the grime of a sub-society. I roamed the streets surrounding the mall trying to make sense of what had happened, piecing together whatever information that I could get about Chandru and the life that he had led, to find out about his family if any.

The people I met were reluctant to speak, to say the least and downright offensively aggressive when they realized I wasn’t going away without answers. Finally a girl not much older than Chandru had opened up for a promise of a 500 rupee note and a glass of tea. Chandru had no family. He wasn’t from the state even. He had come running away from his hometown which was either a village or town somewhere in northern AP, I couldn’t get the name of the place clearly. Here he had managed a string of petty and menial jobs before being “bought” into the business of begging. The girl, Anandhi had stopped at this juncture scared to open up more. The lure of more money, more hot food didn’t seem to work. She was genuinely frightened and refused to talk more about her “handlers” or for the fact, Chandru’s “handlers”. However much I had pushed she didn’t talk again about the same. While leaving however she turned and said,” ennaiyum yaaravathu seekram vaanguvanganu vaendren…akka sollichu…avana yaaro vaanga poranganu..”. I watched her move away into the darkness of the city which absorbed her fully, which had already taken in so many others like her. Buying? Chandru was bought? So that cab was the buyer? For what? The options that came to my mind gave me a shudder.

After I spoke to Anandhi, I tried to emulate the same conversation with others but wasn’t so lucky. It was as though someone had come to know about me and had warned them not to speak to me. They ran at the sight of me, not being tempted by the lure of money or food. I spread the word that I wanted to know what happened and that I was willing to pay. How much ever I tried, I couldn’t get them to talk. I needn’t have tried too much, for “they” sought me out. In the most inopportune time and place. I was having dinner with my parents at Saravana bhavan near Peters road when I saw them enter. They didn’t fit in. A man and a woman. Don’t get me wrong. They weren’t in rags. In fact they were the opposite. They were dressed well but it wasn’t sitting well on them. Call it intuition or whatever you may but I knew that they were there for me. They stood at the doorway with no apparent hurry or plan. I excused myself from the table and went towards them. As I approached they moved outside the hotel and I followed them onto the street.

“thambi, neenga thana athu…niraya kelviyoda suthikittu irukkeenganu porul sollichu.”

“porula? Enna porul”

“pasanga thambi..namma pasanga sonnanga..”

I was slightly revolted at the callous way that they equated kids to products but kept a straight face.

“Chandru ku enna aachu”

“atha than naangalum unga kitta ketkalam nu vanthom…nalla paiyan…enna achu..moochey illa avana pathi…moonu naal amount um varala.”

I retold the entire incident that I saw, not knowing why I was doing that to these people. As I finished they turned and looked at each other, some hidden message passing between them.

“hmmm seri thambi…ithoda itha vitudu…un thalaiku mela poiduchu..theva illatha velai paakatha..puriyutha”

It wasn’t that he or his tone was menacing..but something in the way he said those words gave the seriousness of the content and the truth that will come to pass because of his words.

“uhh chandruuu…chandru ku enna aachu..”

The woman turned. She had been silent so far. She looked at me and said.

“Chandru va vidu thambi…avana chillarai thookiduchu…thirumbi vara maatan…enga iruppanu entha nilamai la irupanu yaarukkum theriyathu….chillarai kaila maatina appram thirumbi intha ulagatha paaka mudiathu..poi vera velaiya paaru thambi..”

Chillarai..The name echoed in my mind. In a city which was famous for its adjective surnames before any two-bit politico or wanna-be, this was a new one indeed. But these people looked like they have handled people like that all through their life, if not for them being people like that themselves. Who could this Chillarai be that he could strike such a fear down these swines' spines? Courage and idiocy are barely deferential.  I had to find out more about this guy. Courageous or idiotic, that’s why I am on my bike chasing a cab down the city’s arterial roads, battling this rain. I had to find out… I had to find Chandru…I had to rescue him.