The Chicken Cage

Scene 1

Around 1 am. Near Sagar stores, EFL University. There are many students around the store and the coffee stall. Hot discussions on some topic, loud laughter, hushed voices, coffee falling into cups, etc. is heard. Camera sees all these as the establishing shot sweeps a 360^o shot round the area f.

Richie is sitting under the tree near the coffee shop, enjoying a cup of coffee. He is a second year BA student at EFLU. Red T-Shirt with quote “Let it go the way it does” on it, Cargo Jeans, expensive shoes. Camera rolls round the corner and zooms into him and focus goes beyond and behind him. He looks carelessly at people around him, trying to measure and understand why they do what they do!

After a few minutes, a girl walks up from the coffee stall, comes and sits next to him, sipping a cup of coffee. She is Ganga and she has joined MA English the other day and is staying at the hostel. She is wearing a green churidar. She has long hair and fair complexion. In one hand, she has an old fashioned mobile phone and a hand bag. Leaning over her knees, she too has a look over the random crowd at Sagar stores and the chairs around. Feeling the chill of the night and enjoying the hot steam of the coffee, she looks at Richie. He is still meditating, - a semi-philosopher look! Ganga wants to strike a conversation with him.

She put her phone and coffee down, took out a pack of cigarettes from her handbag and lit it using a lighter. Hesitantly, but trying to sound confident, Ganga asked Riche with a smile: “Wanna have a puff?”

Suddenly pulled out of the world of thought, Richie looked at her half in wonder, half annoyed. Trying to hide his annoyance, he said, “No thanks, I don’t smoke...”

Ganga felt drawn back, and the expression on her face changes to one of embarrassment. Looking away, she had a long puff from her menthol cigarette. A novice smoker, she coughed enough after the puff. Richie looks at her with a feeling of disbelief and contempt, possibly thinking why she is smoking. He was wondering how to respond.

When she was ok, he said, extending his hand, “Hi, I am Richie, Second year BA Spanish.”

Ganga (shaking hands with him): I am Ganga, first year MA English.”

The conversation looked to have reached a dead end. Two perfect strangers connected just by a hand shake had nothing much to exchange. But she didn’t seem to have done with the chat.

Throwing the empty coffee cup away, she had one more puff. She said, “I like it here...” Her eyes were sparkling as she said this, looking up into the wide blue sky studded with stars. She felt that the starry sky and the highly populated EFLU were equally wide and spacious. A breeze swept past them, playing with her hair. Richie notes that she is beautiful. Adjusting the stray locks of hair with her left hand, she said: “I meant the freedom here... I feel great...”

Richie felt uncomfortable as his privacy was forcefully intruded into, yet was curious to listen to this ‘senior’ student. So he said, “Hmm... It’s great in here...”

Feeling the chill again, crossing her arms together, she agreed nodding. It was nearing 1 am. Still the campus was alive with young voices laughing the night away in defiance of the unjust world order! Some were seen alone, but most in duos or small groups. Happiness was the hovering feeling. Dogs were around too! The tree near the store swayed in the breeze as if it enjoyed the freedom too! She continued to think aloud for Richie.

Ganga: “See how free we are over here! We can even get out of our rooms and roam about after 7 ‘O clock in the evening! It’s so freaking free. I love it here...”

Richie couldn’t but stare at her face listening to her statement. Behind them, a group of boys and girls laughs loudly on some joke, and is seen in the frame.

Throwing the cigarette butt away, she continued to talk about the freedom and the difference between her home town and campus. As she speaks, camera zooms into the dying cigarette butt from behind both of them. The cigarette slowly dies off, breathing its last. “My parents never allowed me to get out of home after school. It was like a jail and I always wanted to see the night world. Here I am getting a taste of what it is like........”

As she speaks, the camera sweeps through their faces, onto the crowd at the shop, dogs, then to the tree and wide focuses into the sky, ending the sequence. Her voice is mixed with mellow music which prevails even after the sky fills the screen.

Scene 2

Ganga’s home. Medium sized traditional tiled house, beautifully maintained surroundings, kennel by the side, cow shed and chicken cage behind. House is painted white. An old man- Ganga’s grandfather- is sitting in the sit-out on his traditional wooden easy chair, chewing pan. He is near75, wears white banyan and dhoti and a white towel on the shoulder.

Old man: “Thoda pani lao...”

Voice from inside: “Aathi hoon...”

Old man takes the vessel by the side of the chair and spits into it.

Ganga comes out with a lota of water. She is now wearing traditional dress- long skirt, blouse and a shall. Face is not as relaxed as in the previous scene. She is certainly uncomfortable in the present circumstances. Face down, she hands over the lota to her grandfather. As she does it, she pulls the edge of the shall over her head and respectfully turns around to go in.

She is suddenly startled by the grandfather’s voice. He says, “Jao, raat hone se pehle sab murgi ko pinjra me band kar do”

Nodding again, Ganga goes into the house silently, head down and disappears into the darkness.

The back door of the house is in wide focus. It opens slowly with creek sound and from the darkness, Ganga emerges with a kerosene lamp in hand. Only her face is lit in the dark frame. Sound of moths is heard in the background. Camera follows her as she walks into the courtyard towards the cage. Chicken are all around the cage, except one. She urges all others into the cage in hushed voice. After the last one gets in, she closes the cage and bolts it from inside.

While she bolts the little wooden door, the frame also should contain the chickens which are inside the cage, in the scarcely available light. Their sound, that of moths and the silence in between. Simultaneously, the dialogue from the previous sequence is heard in the background (with echo effect): “I like it here...” “I meant the freedom here... I feel great...” “Hmm... It’s great in here...” “See how free we are over here! We can even get out of our rooms and roam about after 7 ‘O clock in the evening! It’s so freaking free. I love it here...”

As the dialogue is heard, she goes back into the house. She is shot from behind; light is only in front of her, showing only a faint silhouette of her form. She gets into the house and closes the door. As she closes the door and darkness fills, the voice of dialogue too ends. Only moths are heard now. Camera pans and zooms into the chicken cage, and fades into darkness.

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Classmates

Reminiscence

A heart that looks back for Strength...

Ormayilum Maranam!

ഓര്‍മയില്‍ മരിക്കാനും ഇത്ര വല്ലായ്കയോ മനുജന്? 

കണ്ണ് കാണ്മോളവും കാഴ്ചയെത്താ-

കാതുകേള്‍ക്കാതെയും നേര് നില്‍ക്കാം 

(എങ്കിലും) രോദനം കേള്‍ക്കാം ദൂരെ-

ഈറ്റുനോവിനോടുവില്‍ പെറ്റു വീഴുന്നതും രോദനം 

പേടി നീട്ടും പാത താണ്ടി എങ്ങും പോകാം 

പിന്നിലുണ്ടെതോ സത്വമെന്നാലും 

രോദനം നില്ക്കാ ജീവിതാന്തംന്തം വരേയ്ക്കും 

മണ്ണില്‍ എള്ളുമുളയ്ക്കും വരെയോ, തുടര്‍ന്നുമോ?

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Soaring heights

The railway booking office was busy with the buzz of a couple of scores of people. All had anxious looks on their faces- even those who were nearest to the counter. The fact was that all those 40 and those who came in moment by moment wanted to book tickets before the counter closed at 6.30 pm. And time was 5.10 pm! Great isn’t it?
Each of them was special ‘characters.’ One tried to sneak into the line stealthily, and had the most tensed anxious look. When people requested him to be in the queue, he shouted back at them. He corrected his reservation form 5 times. Each cime someone left the counter, he prepared to see is someone had intruded the queue. He seemingly was on pins! May be, he wanted to visit the loo soon after the booking?
Another character came to the counter and found out that no berth was available. He tore the form into 0.25 inch pieces and threw them onto the floor. When someone asked him to put them in the waste basket, he annoyingly said ‘sorry’ and left the place leaving those fluttering pieces of paper linger in the room.
In the meanwhile, an old man managed to sneak into the line and reach the counter. Ah! There was an uproar as if a tiger came among them. But corrective measure couldn’t be taken since the old man had already booked his ticket. Another man, angry at this injustice kept on abusing that unruly old man for the next 15 minutes.
Tension was mounting as time was 5.30 pm by then. One hour to go. The one who stealthily sneaked in still vigilantly kept his surveillance open, to see if anyone sneaks in (or to see of there is any possibility of sneaking in?).
The queue kept growing as time elapsed, and tension too grew exponentially. By the way, the queue was a funny one. It had a spiral structure. The beginning of the queue was inside the spiral and end was outside. One had to make a few lucky guesses to join the queue, escaping the abuses of the group.
Ah! Now! A man with face of a British Bulldog kept on pounding in the air. He looked ferociously at everyone around. At one point of time, he stood up and shouted at the reservation clerk and made this statement: “you are taking 5 minutes to book one ticket!” Hearing this phenomenal, specimen utterance, the clerk got wild. He stood up and yelled at the Bulldog. Now the whole crowd rose to the occasion and pulled the Bulldog down- imagine if the clerk leaves the place aggravated by the Bulldog!
And my chance came. I booked the ticket at 6.10 pm, well ahead of closing time. Still people were coming in; pieces of paper were falling down and flying around. Faces grew tense, crowd grew bigger... Still 20 minutes were left for the counter to close...

The Voice Unheard

Today is a day of sorrow, since I heard the voice.
Its a long time now, but haven't forgotten its tint.
Soft like a flower, yet cold in its center and sharp on the edges.
It fell on my ears, like rain on a summer's day.

I wonder, why I'm alive! when life is just a dream.
Distance is like a tree: it grows, yet no one sees.
So the tree grew, gave shade for me to rest.
And now, I shed tears. Drops aren't there, but flows.

'Come back, you coward'- I often have to tell my mind.
For it backs off like a dog in an unseen clan.
When back, I'm at home, the real me, the monster.
For it knows someone's sad, knowing well that I'm mad.

Destiny! I never believed in it, even when my pulses proved it.
To be was my destiny? May be! because I never wanted to be!
Shadows grew too long till the black ate the white.
Till the doors of my life were unsafe in the night.

Ah! Yes, the voice. It still is loud like the evening Sun.
As always, it pricks the softest of all flesh- the heart.
When the pain recedes, I realize that voice wasn't real.
Then begins THE pain, for what's lost causes greater pain!

How peace comes - Travelogue

Just as this cold earth begins to warm up at the early touches of the sun, my eyes begin to see how lives are lived here. The rhythmic noise of the train set another rumbling in the head. Slowly, I was absorbed into the sorrows and joys of those who lived their journey on that train.

1. A Scary Episode

Every man and woman is god’s breath in bodily form. This statement excludes a minority of human beings from being God’s breath- the ‘transgenders.’ They by their form undergo unimaginable experiences just to be alive. Born in a society which does not have a space for them, they are left by themselves to fend for themselves – physically, emotionally and financially. For this reason, they are what they are. Today one from their community barged into my train. He/she spread fear in the passengers. s/he threatened men to give her money. She used abusive language to get there. She had to. There would be no other way. Nobody gives them work. Nobody loves them like human beings. They have no acceptance. They have no place in the mainstream society. If they wanted to survive, the had to become goons who can threaten and extract money from strangers.
I pity them. But what is my pity for them? There are also people who need to be accepted and appreciated as human beings. Society should realize this. They too should realize that there are other decent and dignified ways of living this beautiful life. All of us need to accept what is real. All of us need to let the other live. I don’t want to fear or look down upon my fellow human beings. I thin, neither do they.

2. The Wedding Duo
Another interesting vision!  Seated on two sections of the seats with an alley between them, the newly weds sat without looking at each other. The woman displays new ornaments on her while man shows off his new things – wife being the first in the list. Now, there comes a phone call. It rings from his pocket. He takes it out, checks who is calling and gives it to his woman. She knew it was her call, because it was her phone. She sobs on phone. It was her mom on phone. She is going away from home, may be for the first time, to her husband’s places. Two big bags indicate that.
Now his phone rings! She is curious too, looks intently. He doesn’t even mind her. He with authority creates a space exclusive for himself. Quite funny huh! She goes on to fiddle with her phone, listen to music, play videos, etc. Hubby buddy just gives a look or two on and off. He doesn’t have those on his basic cell phone!
Breakfast time. She serves. He eats. A traditional home on train. He finishes idlies one by one. 3, 6, 8, 9… Gosh, he stopped at 9. Her call now! She had her mark on the 6th one- wifely reduction may be! The drama continued. When those trans-people came, the man exhibited his guts by taking refuge in the toilet! Yet he is the Lord for her – “Pathi devo bhavah!”

3. The Reservation Drama

This drama also needs a little background story. India is geographically the 7th largest nation in the world. But demographically, we are second only to China. India Railways as I understand is the largest public sector employer in the world. It is filthy rich. These years, its income is going up dramatically. Among this, passenger ticketing is one of the major ones. Now, south India to be precise 3 ½ Southern states pay for their tickets as they should. Many of the remaining 24 ½ states bring lesser revenue to Railways through tickets. Being in Andhra, being on a train, I can vouch for that. My bloody reservation seat is under threat. Many, with a reservation have to come and fight to get their seats freed. This is a sad situation in many ways. Many of our people do not even understand what the meaning of reservation is. They get into any compartment/boggy of the train. Whatever is enough for them. But if it creates disturbance to those who have reserved their tickets well in advance, who is to blame?
It is here that the sociological equality of Indian population is at stake. Education and awareness are not equally distributed in India. Those who are economically at a better rung of the ladder also are at a higher position in the educational hierarchy. Therefore, the conveniences and goody packages of the government naturally go to this advantaged group. And the poor, uneducated majority remains at the bottom of the developmental ladder. For this reason were those people fighting with people who had their reservations ready. And those gentle men and women who showed actually using the privileges received from the tax payers’ money to show their supremacy on the less privileged ones. Another reading of the same would tell us that this democracy keeps certain percentage of its citizens under minimum levels of poverty, education and awareness – all for its knowledgeable rich to enjoy so me privileges.

4. The Little Princess
In the middle of the hurry burry of the reservation drama, god knows from where, this little princess who changed the tint of the journey came in (Hmm… Smell of kerosene.. there goes a kerosene tanker train…) in an all blue costume form top to bottom with her hair plaited and divided into two, she flashed her lightening smile over every unfamiliar face she saw. I remembered an old Malayalam story “Prakasham Parathunna Penkutty.”
Her family had no reservation. A middle aged woman with a small child, may be the little princess’ mother – came learning over me. The little princess came inside our alley to stand comfortably. Since I did not know the language, I had to smile back and keep quiet. I had a couple of questions boiling within me for her, but couldn’t ask. She went on chatting with her brother and my neighbours. I kept looking at that sweet face from which innocence gleamed. And I forget about everything that went around me. Peace… “Prakasham Parathunna Penkutty.”