A Hitchhike to Fear

Most of the stuff I write spring out of my imagination but this time reality got the best of me. I have the habit of giving lift to hitch hikers but on one condition – the hitch-hiker’s total outlook should conform to my gut feeling that this guy deserves a lift. It is not ruled by any dress code, as I have given lifts to shabbily dressed folks too. So simply said it’s an act of my minds circuitry that defies plain logic where one and one need not be two.

It was a summer noon, right time to be indoors; the sun was harsh and unrelenting reminding everything below of its hot existence. Unfortunately I was out on chores which I had put off for a while and it was high time I did them. On my run on scooter between these chores there was a hitchhiker on the way, his dress was trendy but not branded. There was certain earnestness in his face which convinced me to give him a lift. He hopped on and asked me to drop him on the next bus stop. I asked him where he was headed to and it was the church about 2 kms from where I had met him. As the church was en route to where I was headed, I told I will drop him close to it.

There was severe traffic block due to the tarring of road in the vicinity. He started his conversation cursing the poor quality of the road construction in Kerala; in comparison to Tamil Nadu the thickness of the tar laid here was minimal. This was the reason why the roads need to be repaired frequently. He had been to T.N just a day before to procure some tools. This was the last comfortable piece of conversation I had during this short hitchhike episode.

He elaborated, tools meaning swords, knives and other such lethal weapons which were cheap in T.N and he could sell them here making some profit. My mind was wrought in thought – my hitchhiker selection procedure has failed miserably. Thanks to helmet and him sitting pillion he missed the wondrous expression on my face!!! He was narrating sincerely the risks he had due to the police bandobust because of the hartal against petrol price hike. Nice time to talk about risks – I was unfortunately taking one; this reminded me of one of the scenes in Sathyan Anthikads movie “Vinodayathra” where the guy ends up in the lockup after being part of such a hitchhike; hope a different destiny awaits me. He continued the conversation and swore that he was afraid to step foot in the city after being released from police lock-up recently. It was about tools earlier, now lockup what else? I asked myself !!

He narrated the incident: he was happy buying two bottles of beer with his hard earned money (God knows who all he gave a hard time for that) from Beverages corporation stall. It was snatched by some goons, on asking for help to the guy behind the counter all that he got was it is as good as considering the bottles lost; these guys were notorious local goondas. He could not suppress his anger and sadness of losing his hard earned beer and wanted to get them back. What he got was some heavy thrashing and some merciless kicks, only after him pleading on his knees did they stop and let him go. They then started walking away; it resembled a movie scene where the guys walk away in slow motion after a stunt. Our narrator while groveling in the dust noticed a broken bottle lying nearby. With adrenaline aided vigor he grabbed it ran towards them and pushed it down their backs and totally scarred the face of the third goon. What an ideal candidate to sit behind you was my humble thought at that moment.

I was desperate to reach the destination and luckily soon I did reach. He thanked me profusely and left for the “church” (remember). I was left thinking whether all that I heard was just a figment of his bluff or a slice of his real life, either ways it was entertaining and gripping. It might have put me in a tight spot of being seen with a criminal but still his narration was good enough to make things interesting in an otherwise boring ride. If it was really fiction it did liberate me momentarily from the mad run I was in, even otherwise it was entertaining with all due respect – for the tools.