CATCH ME, BEFORE I FLY AWAY!
CHAPTER EIGHT

FINAL CHAPTER:
THE AFTERMATH!

Over the next hour or so, everyone in the house tried in their own ways, to persuade or force, my brother to get up and be ready for the trip to the Registrar’s office. He just lay back, blinked his eyes and looked sheepishly at everyone, but made no effort whatsoever, to even get up from the bed. When people became too pushy, he just closed his eyes and chuckled;

– “Hi Hi Hi Hi…”

At 10 am, everyone finally gave up and my father, who had still not been able to get his usual nap, called the registrar’s office, and requested the secretary to postpone the appointment to 3 pm instead, since there was an ‘unexpected turn of events’ in the house. He hung up thanking the lady and assuring her that everyone relevant will be at their office, ahead of the 3 pm slot.

My father continued to murmur to himself, and shake his head in disgruntlement, whenever he saw me. I was clearly the fall guy, and everyone in the house seemed to subscribe to that opinion as well. So, cursing myself, I decided to head out and seek solace in the company of my friend and partner in crime, Sintu.

Sintu was literally waiting for me since the morning, if not through the whole night. He admitted that he was completely buzzed the night before, and the two of us laughed out reminding ourselves of his concern calls every five minutes. I debriefed him about the situation back home, of my mother and sister-in-law and lastly, of my brother, and we laughed some more. Then Sintu suddenly became very serious;

– “Mota, imagine if we actually gave the bottle to the girls yesterday? What would have happened to them?”

This made us both think hard, and we concluded that there must be something wrong in the product, something that made it far more potent than usual. We agreed that it had been a boon that the girls had a guest last night, and we were unable to hand over, what was contractually agreed as theirs.

– “If they had taken it, they would surely have fallen sick as well, and it could have been far worse and way more embarrassing.” – I chipped in.

– “Sick? Your family had your constant supervision, and you made sure they did not have more than what they should, barring your brother, of course. Imagine three girls all by themselves, with a 2 litre bottle of Siddhi. Mota, I think we dodged a bullet here. You and I could have been charged with murder!”

I knew he was exaggerating, but nodded in agreement nevertheless. Together we decided, that we will not be giving the remaining bottle to the girls. They would not be happy, but it was our responsibility to explain to them, why we had to take this unpopular decision, considering the greater interest of our friends and of their well being. We were confident, they would understand if we narrated the story of all the people, who had consumed this potent concoction. So as a plan, we decided to pick the bottle from Bibhas da’s house and give it to someone else, since it would be wasteful to throw it away. We wondered for a while who should be that lucky person, and decided it will be a guy called Aju, who owned the corner shop called ‘Aju’r dokan’ (Aju’s shop). I personally didn’t know him so well, but Sintu assured me that he was what we called a “Pnar Mataal” (Incorrigible drunkard) and had the habit of getting drunk on country liquor, almost every evening. So, he would be grateful and will owe us one, and it was wise to have your local grocery shop guy owe you a favour, and that there was no possibility of any collateral damage. However potent our mix was, for a regular like Aju, it would still be just another drink. Once everything was settled, we walked to Bibhas da’s house a hundred metres away to collect our bottle.

Bibhas da however, did not respond to our knocks on his door. After making a few attempts, we concluded that he must have left for work, but just as we walked down from his apartment on the mezzanine level between the first and second floors, we bumped into his landlord. When we asked him about Bibhas da, he dismissed the suspicion that he had gone for work, since he would always leave his keys with them, when he went for work. That was the arrangement between them, to utilise the services of their common house cleaner.

Sintu and I exchanged a worried glance and decided to try again, this time calling his name loudly from the door and also from the spot downstairs, just below his balcony. It all went to no avail and eventually, Sintu, being the more athletic among the two, climbed up an adjoining tree and jumped into Bibhas da’s balcony. He then opened the door from the inside and I stepped in. Bibhas da was lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, his eyes closed, and one of his legs had slipped downwards and was touching the floor.

With a grave concern, we checked his breathing first and were relieved to conclude that he was not dead. After some violent shaking, Bibhas da jumped up from his sleep, and took a few moments to settle down and regain his bearings.

– “What the hell is this drink you guys manufactured?” – were his first words.

– “Why Bibhas da, what happened? You didn’t go to the office?” – Sintu inquired with bewilderment.

– “Don’t even remind me. I slept soon after you guys left. But in the middle of the night, I woke up to go to the toilet and on my way back, I felt thirsty. So I opened the fridge and picked up some water, but then I saw the bottle and thought, what’s the harm in quenching my thirst with this? After all, you guys had prepared with so much effort. I barely drank half a glass before going back to sleep. In the morning, I could see the sun and wanted to go to the office, but I couldn’t lift my body from the bed. After several attempts, I gave up and fell asleep again. Thank God, you guys came and woke me up.”

We looked at each other, and Sintu gave him a summary of the other actors, who had suffered a similar fate in this play. Bibhas da warned us against delivering this to the girls, and when we told him of our plan, he agreed that Aju might be the safest person to ‘donate’ this to. We left his place and walked towards Aju’s shop, and Sintu, after a quick chit chat, asked him if he was interested in having some Siddhi, which was concocted the previous night.

Aju was someone who would even accept a bottle of poison, if it came for free, so he was more than delighted to accept our little gift. Sintu did warn him about the effect it had had on its consumers so far, but Aju waved his hand dismissively. While we were on this, another gentleman, Nipon, the local barber whose shop was right in front of Aju’s, walked in and listening to the conversation, made Aju promise him, that he would also be given a taste of this holy beverage. We left them, and the bottle, and went back to our respective houses.

Back home, all efforts to get my brother up, had been futile and he continued with his toothy chuckle and that, by now annoying;

– “Hi Hi Hi Hi…”

So much so, that we had to call the registrar’s office again and cancel the appointment for 3 pm. We informed the secretary that we would make a fresh appointment soon.

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The effect of this unforgettable experience waned with time, but it has been comically remembered ever since, if not always fondly, by everyone who was impacted on that fateful night, and the following day. But before I finish my narration, I would summarise the aftermath of this magic potion, on every single person who had ‘enjoyed’ it.

Sintu and yours truly:


We were both heavily impacted that night, Sintu probably a wee bit more than me. The sense of responsibility imposed upon me by the situation, was perhaps the reason I stayed focused and it could have been very different, if that burden had been relieved. I did have a significant headache which only left me after a full night’s sleep the next day. 



My Boudi and my mother:


They had taken the smallest servings of the drink, and both were impacted for some hours that night. My Boudi was the worse among the two, but she recovered relatively fast, thanks to the timely introduction of the ‘smelling salt’. Both of them felt some residual impact the next day, and it subsided gradually.

Bibhas da:


A consumer more by default than by design, and not of any major quantity either, Bibhas da was also impacted majorly for a few hours, and ended up missing his work for a day. He had managed to regain his normal composure by the evening that day.

Aju and Nipon:

Also entering the game due to our late improvisation, the two had taken it too lightly and suffered the consequences. The day after handing them the bottle, Sintu and I had almost forgotten about them. But when we were walking past their shops, we found both the establishments shuttered down. Nipon opened his barber shop on the third day, while Aju kept his shop closed for three straight days. Both of them admitted that for those two and three days respectively, they did not have any sway over their own thoughts or actions. 

So much for the regulars!

Piu, Moon and Munni:


When we first shared our decision with them, they were all very disappointed and even suspected for a while, that we had played them. The stories of my brother and sister-in-law were unverifiable for them, but when they heard from Bibhas da and subsequently from Aju and Nipon, whose shops were within twenty meters of their house, they thanked us for taking the wise decision on their behalf.



And finally, my brother:


My brother started off pretty well, compared to most others, but his condition sharply declined beyond reason. I believe it was the direct influence of relishing on the residual ‘Bhang’ and chewing of the fibrous sediment. 
After calling off the appointment the day after, we were not even in a position to reschedule it for many days, because my brother barely left his bed for the next three days. People started talking about him and I even came across people who asked me, on my face;

– “heard your brother has been declared a lunatic?”

There were also some concerned neighbours who came and consoled my mother, and in the process, narrated stories of other people who had turned lunatics, after drinking too much of Bhang. On the third day, my mother was really worried that her son might not be able to recover completely. I became the obvious villain and had to bear with numerous jeers and glances at me, from almost everyone.

My brother skipped work for four straight days, and for most of those days, it was indeed unthinkable to picture him at work. On the fifth day, he suddenly took a shower, the first one in a while on his own initiative, and then asked for his office bag and showed concern if his job was still his. From that point on, he recovered fast, but it took another three weeks before that irritating – “Hi Hi Hi Hi…” chuckle finally made its permanent exit.

Life returned to the usual gradually, but this stayed etched in our memories as one of the most unforgettable nights of all time. Even twenty years later, every year during my annual visit, we remember this story and join in a common bout of laughter, before exclaiming with a relief;

“What a night that was!”

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