Benyamin: Yellow Lights of Death

‘What have I written? Why?’

‘Idiot. Should I tell you what you wrote? That she had grabbed your hand and had given you her children’s photograph. She told me nothing of that sort had happened. Anyway, she is not very happy with what you’ve written, okay? She also knows your intentions in going to meet her often. You should remember that she is a married woman. You are still a daydreamer!’

‘I’ve no such feelings. I just visited her about the murder and. ’

‘Oh, as if I don’t know! We all knew! Anita, Supriya and I have laughed about it. Leave it, she never liked you. Never.’

It hurt me, but I recovered quickly. At that point it was not Anita who interested me, it was Leena. She seemed the same. She talked the same way she used to. There was no unfamiliarity. She was not affected by the long gap since we’d met. She chatted with me as if we had met the previous day. No wonder we called her ‘the advocate’.

‘Did you actually become an advocate?’ I asked.

‘Ha. Do I have to fulfil the dreams of my classmates? I did my higher studies in Cape Town. After that, Paris for a while. I’m now in Geneva, a small job in the UN.’

‘The UN?’

‘Yes, the United Nations.’

God, another surprise. Leena had blossomed beyond my imagination.

‘Actually, when I heard about the story of your novel, I, too, felt the same desire that you had — to meet our old classmates.’

‘I’m really happy that you came. And that you feel this way.’

‘Was Senthil really murdered?’

‘That’s the truth. But I don’t have any evidence to prove it. What can I do?’

Momma came with apple juice and biscuits, and sat down to chat with Leena. When she heard that Leena was a UN official, she was full of admiration.

‘Look at her. She was in your class. Look at where she is now! My dear, we told him to go to Paris, he didn’t listen to us. Instead he went to Thiruvananthapuram. Now he is writing a novel and roaming around like a loafer.’

After Momma left, Leena looked at me and smiled.

‘Sorry, Mommas are like that. They always want to see their sons rich. But I think you should never veer away from your writing. Some of our classmates have become doctors, some nurses, some businessmen, some high officials, some rich people. But I feel more respect for you than for any of them. That’s why I came to meet you even though I’ve very little time this trip.’

She got up to leave. I accompanied her to the stairs of the jetty. There was an official boat waiting for her. Before she got into it, she held my hand.

‘You’d written that Anita held on to your hand. Let her go. I’ve held you in real life. I hope that’s enough? Then again, I can’t gift you a photo of my children as I’m not married. So you’ve a chance,’ she laughed and patted me on my shoulder.

‘Our Senthil. he is not a story in a novel, he is a human rights issue. Can’t you do something?’ I asked.

‘I know. But I have limitations. You can at least protest through a novel. I don’t have that power.’

She boarded the boat. It created a few ripples in front of me and vanished from sight. When walking up the stairs, I opened my wallet. It still had the photograph of Anita’s children.

Affidavit

(RAJANBABU SENT THIS with the note: ‘I got it from the Public Security.’)

I have come to know from the Public Security department that a book has been published in Kerala titled The Diaries of Christy Andrapper . Christy Andrapper is my son. There is no evidence that it was actually written by my son. My family and I strongly suspect that the stories have been manufactured to malign the Andrapper family and Diego Garcia. In fact, this book has been published without the knowledge of and permission from any of us. Benyamin, in whose name it has been compiled, is not related to or acquainted with anyone in the Andrapper family. We have not given him the rights to publish such a book.

If such a book has brought disgrace to our Diego Garcia, its government or its sovereignty, as the mother of the author, I tender my sincere apology to this land.

I don’t believe this country or its government has any hand in the disappearance of my son. The Andrapper family believes that he might have voluntarily migrated abroad, or committed suicide. I hereby certify that he was clinically depressed since his childhood, and was unstable and liable to episodes of mania like his grandfather. I am writing this in sound mind, by my own hand and not under the influence of anything or anyone.

Jai Diego Garcia!

Sincerely,

Janet Maria Andrapper

News Report

MALAYALA MANORAMA 13 SEPTEMBER 2010

Major plantation companies in India and abroad are all set to invest in African countries. It is feared that the effects of climate change in countries such as India, Sri Lanka and Malaysia, and the dearth of labourers would result in huge losses to the sector in the coming years. This has been attributed as a reason for the companies’ latest move. Ghana, Ethiopia and Cameroon are the top three choices. Other than big firms such as Harrison Malayalam, Tata, Kannan Devan, Unilever and Manjusri Plantations, some individuals and Almaya forums of some Christian groups are also investors. These companies will set up estates of tea, rubber, sugar cane, cotton, coffee and coconut. Andrapper and Co., the multinational company known for its investments in the plantation sector, has already bought thousands of acres of land in Ethiopia and begun developing estates. Other companies will follow.

Meanwhile, in a press conference, Andrapper and Co. denied reports that the influx of plantation companies to Africa would be a threat to them. ‘We have an edge over the others because of our experience in setting up plantations in various countries and during different periods in history. The entry of other players in the sector is not a threat to us,’ Jeffrey Andrapper, the spokesperson of Andrapper and Co., told journalists in Addis Ababa. He added that the company had withdrawn all their investments in Diego Garcia and that their new headquarters would be Gore in Ethiopia.

Courtesy, love, thanks to—

Friends in reality and fiction: Anil Vengode, E.A. Salim, Sudhi Mashu, Nibu, Biju and Nattapranthan, aka Saju.

The friend who gave me the dope on Mariam Seva.

The essay titled ‘I, the Joan of Arc’ ( Bhashaposhini , December 2005) by V.K. Sriraman, which had details about the Andrapper family history.

The websites that had a wealth of information about terrorist outfits; and the annual report of the Union Home Ministry.

The many Nasrani documents.

The residents of Udayamperoor. All those who love my words.

And to you, of course!