Navigating drugs' own country

The main challenge when you take a flight that lands at 2 a.m. is not the sleep you lose. But to ensure that the driver of the cab who picks you up will stay awake and alert through the journey.

My strategy remained the same this time too. Greet the driver heartily and after establishing our respective identities, start a conversation about the latest in local politics. Never fails to keep the conversation flowing and eyes open, especially when you are in Kerala.

Of course, as always, I had taken care to quickly scan the interior of the cab for words, images or colours that would have indicated if the driver was already aligned to a political thought or a party. Again, as always, I started out with some innocent questions, expected of an ignoramus not tuned into the here and now of the political landscape.
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This time my plan failed. Or, maybe, he sensed pretty early that I was a mere pup when it came to politics. So, after a short pause that threatened to induce sleep, I latched on to a topic that was making headlines all over.

Country gone to drugs?

“Isn’t it frightening,” I began. “Small school children getting addicted to drugs. They become rude, violent and don’t hesitate to kill. What is happening to God’s Own Country? The most literate state?” I patted myself for that closing. It was sure to kick off a long conversation.

Instead, sitting as I was right next to him, I could discern a change in his expression. Suddenly, he slowed the car down. I looked around to spot a reason. No teashop or public toilet around. All I could see was a signboard that identified the building across the road to be a government school.

He was pointing to that school. Then he turned to face me.

“My daughter studies there. She is in the eighth standard. My son is also there, three years younger,” he paused. His turned his face away and wiped his face on his sleeve. Was he crying?

I remained quiet as we resumed our journey. The silence persisted. Then he spoke, almost in a whisper.
“For you, these are just headlines to talk about. For me, this is my life, my family.” There was anger in his voice and sorrow. Then he shared his story in bits and pieces.

“This has been going on for a while. Everyone thought it was localized first. That was the excuse our leaders used for a long time. Now, it is too big a fire to hide.

“Politicians don’t even bother with justifications and promises any longer. Yes, some of the drug runners get arrested once in a while and it becomes big news. Usually, they are out in a week or two. There is too much money and power at play.”

He stopped the car for a tea break. I refused his offer of a cup and waited in the car for him to return. I was disturbed. It was one thing to read from far away and arrive at righteous opinions about the deplorable state of affairs. It was another to be in the middle of it all and live life on the edge, day after day.
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He had half a smile on his face when he returned and started the car. I asked him: “So, how do you handle this? How do you protect your children?”

Be there, be transparent

“My wife I and I make a conscious effort to be not just parents but also good friends to our children. They are free to talk to us about anything. We do not rush to judge them or punish them. Thankfully, they are smart and are doing well in school. We just sit and talk. If my daughter has something to say that is strictly for feminine ears, she opts for a private conversation with her mother. My son is crazy about football, and he would rather discuss that with me, thought I am not a footballer. We have our disagreements, yet we try to keep one another happy.”

Where did he get this idea from? Did someone counsel him and his wife? Did they watch some YouTube video?

“We have been like this right from the time we married. Our family life never had a man’s side separate from the woman’s. We saw no reason to change our way even after we had children. I do not know if we are doing right or wrong. We just want to keep everything transparent. It is not about right and wrong or good and bad. We just hope that when we discuss everything in the open, we will be able to prevent any serious problem ... or at least nip it in the bud.

“Yes, we talk about the drug problem also. They have told us about a few things they have seen on the way to school. Fortunately, their school appears to be safe so far. Maybe because most of the students there come from relatively poor families. Not much money to get there. But there are some teachers in our neighbourhood who work in bigger schools. They tell us they are afraid. It is just a job for them now and they continue only because they cannot possibly get another job here.”
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We happened to pass a church. He slowed and bowed his head. The same thing happened when we later crossed a temple and a mosque. He was conscious of my gaze and answered my unasked question.

Please save your country

“You have probably guessed my faith from my name. But honestly, I have lost my faith in humanity. Our only goal now is to divide and exploit. My only plea to God, wherever He is and whatever we call Him, is to help me and my family.”

We were very close to my destination. He had something more to say.

“We want our children to study well, find a good job and settle down somewhere outside. Like you, they should be able to speak English and do well to fly from place to place.”

I was on the verge of defending myself, but we had already stopped at my spot. So, I let it pass.

After I paid him, he asked my permission to contact me once the children finished their school. Maybe I could help them find a job somewhere far away from here?
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All I could do in response was give him a long hug and walk away. I didn’t want my tears to dilute his hope.

​The birds were hailing the rising sun with their chorus. As I slowly wheeled my bag along, I tuned into their songs and focused on the gentle light in the horizon. I desperately wanted to be positive. Maybe, just maybe, God would return to reclaim His country and save His people.