Benyamin: Goat Days

As we neared the vehicle, the arbab grabbed my bag and threw it into the open back of the vehicle. Arbab! The fish pickle prepared by my mother. The lemon pickle prepared by Sainu … My heart burned. Before his bag was snatched, Hakeem placed it at the back of the vehicle. He had many more bottled items — pickles, coconut oil, etc.

The arbab opened the driver’s seat and jumped inside. In fact, the cabin could hold only one more besides the driver. Me and Hakeem together? Well, we would have to adjust. As I went to open the other door, the arbab yelled out something. Startled, I took a step back. The arbab pointed towards the back. I remained where I was, continuing to hold the door handle, as I did not understand anything. Again, he pointed and shouted, ‘ Ya, yella! ’ Then he opened the door angrily, came out, grabbed me by my hands and pulled me to the rear and pushed me up the back of the vehicle. Seeing this, Hakeem jumped in. The arbab hurried back to his seat and started the car.

In the back of the vehicle there were two or three large aluminium vessels, some grass and many sacks. We somehow managed to fit in, holding on to the side rails. Despite its antique appearance, the vehicle was pretty fast, we felt. Its growl and grumble were too much. However, we realized its true speed only when we left the airport and touched the main road. Hundreds of vehicles kept overtaking it heartlessly. The only thing it overtook was the dark smoke its exhaust pipe breathed out.

My first journey through the Gulf streets. Although it hurt that it was in an open vehicle, it was only because it was open that I could unreservedly enjoy the resplendence of the tall illuminated buildings on either side of the road. Could I have ever seen the Gulf in its fullness like this if I had been sitting with the arbab in the front seat? As it was already dark, nobody travelling in the other vehicles could see us.

I have no idea how long that open-air journey lasted. Hakeem had no idea either. The radiance of the metropolis grew fainter. I could make out the long road parting from the city. The number of vehicles overtaking us decreased. Soon, the intermittent neon glare from the street lamps became the only light. After some more time, I noticed we had deviated from the highway. Distant street lamps were the only source of light. Hakeem had dozed off somewhere along the journey. He must be weary, let him sleep, I thought. I realized that our journey had moved to some sand road by now. Light transformed into an envelope of dust. Then, darkness. Raising dust, the vehicle sped between sand dunes.

The only thing that had gone into my stomach till then was the little water that I had had on the plane. I had been feeling too nervous when Sasi compelled us to have breakfast before we left. I could not eat the plane food either as I was not sure about how to eat it. I was actually starving. With the blistering hunger that one experiences after a mining session in the river. When I mentioned it to Hakeem at the airport, he said that he felt as though he might die of hunger. I wanted to howl, arbab, please stop, get us some food, some water … But nothing came out of my throat. It would not come out. I was afraid. Afraid, that I would anger the arbab. Not only that. It was pitch dark and there was no sign of any place where food might be available. An hour must have passed since we had started driving on the sand road. My back began to ache from the jerks and jolts. The rising dust made it impossible to breathe. What kind of a journey is this, my Lord, I cried involuntarily.

From that moment, like the maniyan fly, an unknown fear began to envelop my mind. An irrational doubt began to grip me, a feeling that this journey was not leading me to the Gulf life that I had been dreaming about and craving for. The Gulf I had learned about from so many people was not like this. A whiff of danger. Nothing clear. I would have been at ease had I shared my anxiety with Hakeem. But he was fast asleep. Let him sleep. If he listened to my worries, he might start crying.

There was no way to know the time. I cursed the moment I gave Sasi my watch. Let us reach when we reach. What was the use of knowing the time? I was travelling in the vehicle of my own arbab. In his hands my life was safe and secure. Why should I worry about the time? I lay down and slowly sunk my head into a bundle of grass. Up in the sky, the stars hid their lustre. They were asleep. I lay there, staring idly into the emptiness of the sky. The unending jolts and the growl of the vehicle entwined composing a lullaby for my fatigued ears. I fell asleep.

It was only when the arbab shook me that I awoke — to eye-piercing darkness. I had no idea where we were. It took my eyes some more time to adjust to the darkness. Hakeem was still in deep slumber. Again the arbab angrily struck the rails to make a loud noise. As Hakeem scrambled awake, the arbab signalled to him to come out. When I collected the bag and started to follow, the arbab made it clear that it was not me but Hakeem he had called. Still half asleep, Hakeem couldn’t understand much. The arbab growled like an angry wildcat.

We are two poor things, arbab, who do not know anything at all. Why are you angry with us like this? Do you know, arbab, we’re hungry? In fact, more thirsty than hungry. I cannot remember a single day of starvation like this. What a great reception this is, coupled with your needless fury. No, why should we accuse the arbab? Wouldn’t he also be hungry and thirsty? He must have set out many hours ago to pick us up. At least we travelled by plane. He had to drive this old vehicle to the airport and back. At least we managed to sleep a little in the plane and in the vehicle. The arbab had had no sleep. Only after taking us to our place can he eat a little, drink a little water and stretch his back. Be angry, arbab. Be furious, even. We are guilty of sleeping without even realizing that the vehicle had stopped.

I sensed that we had reached a plain, with not a building or tree anywhere in sight. Far away, like a map, some mountains or hills, silhouetted against the dark sky, could be seen. A cry sprung in my heart: My Lord, where have I ended up?

Hakeem jumped out with his bag. The arbab led the way in the darkness. He seemed to know the place. Hesitantly, Hakeem followed him. But didn’t Hakeem and I come to work in the same company? Weren’t we supposed to live together and work together? Why did the arbab bring him here in this darkness? Why am I made to remain seated in the vehicle? Where is he taking Hakeem? My Lord, his ummah had left him in my care. Rogue arbab, where are you taking Hakeem? I jumped out of the vehicle resolutely. I took my bag and ran after the arbab and Hakeem. The arbab turned back. Even in the darkness I could see his eyes redden with rage. I asked him something in Malayalam. His furious gestures failed to drive me back to the vehicle. Then he unbuckled his belt and swung it in the air once. Its blood-curling whoosh was frightening. Reluctantly, I returned to the vehicle.

Open plains have some light even in the dark of the night, some sort of a radiance from the remains of light that shatter against the sky from the ends of the earth or other places. As my eyes became accustomed to that light, I could see the arbab stop in front of the gate of an iron-mesh enclosure. I saw him pull out a key from his pocket and take Hakeem inside. Although I was intensely curious to see what was going on inside, it was too dark for that.

The only thing I could discern in the air was a foul smell, maybe the arbab’s stench. I had the common sense to understand that we had been driving through the desert. Was it the smell of the desert? Do deserts have such a smell? The deep sea, they say, does. The air was filled with that smell. I had been conscious of it since the vehicle stopped. Initially I thought it was because of the dust raised by the vehicle. But now it was clear that it was coming from the iron enclosure into which the arbab led Hakeem. Like the mixed smell of bone powder and dung. Have we reached some bone-powdering factory? If so, where are the buildings? The machines? The heaps of bone? The exhaust pipes? Where? Who knows?