The Trip to Nowhere

By Sivasankari

My first exposure to the world of drug addiction came in 1970 during my first trip to the United States. The enormity of the problem and its horrifying consequences gripped my imagination and remained embedded in my subconscious. A decade and a half later, my thoughts have taken the shape of Avan. The UN declared 1985 the International Year of the Youth and I felt the need to commemorate this in my own way by writing a serialised story on the problem of drug abuse that was by then assuming alarming proportions in India. I wanted to create an awareness of drug addiction and its consequent problems amongst the people, particularly among parents and the youth.

The reasons why people take to smoking, drinking or drugs are many but the following are the most common

a) For the sheer pleasure of it.

b) Unable to contain their curiosity over drugs.

c) Coerced into it by peers.

Apart from this, yet another important reason is the easy access to money that many of the young today enjoy. Psychologists claim that in families where both parents are working, there is often an attempt to overindulge the children by giving them money and gifts to compensate for their inability to spend quality time with their children.

I would like to add that the 'generation gap' that adults have allowed to creep into their relationships with their children is yet another reason for their indulging in such endangering practices. We should also acknowledge that the root cause of relationship conflicts is lack of communication. Free and frank discussions from time to time would go a long way towards nipping conflicts in the bud. We need to understand that it is entirely in our hands how peacefully we lead our lives and how we are able to keep it conflict free. Experts feel that if we develop our self confidence and give up on leaning on others and looking up to them to resolve our problems, we will be able to face up to life in a far more self assured manner.

I would like to stress here that while the story is fictional, although pieced together on the lives of the numerous drug addicts I met and the case studies experts provided me with, the material provided at the end of each chapter related to drugs, their aftereffects and so on are completely factual. I express my gratitude to all of those people drug addicts, doctors, parents and others—who opened up to me during my research to write this story. The book is as much theirs as it is mine!

My sincere thanks to Shobana Swaminathan, Rekha Shetty and Janaki Viswanathan for helping me translate the original Tamil version to English.

- Sivasankari.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pustaka Digital Media
• Release date: Aug 12, 2019
• ISBN: 6580501803726

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The Trip to Nowhere

Author:

Sivasankari

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

About the author

Sivasankari is a prolific Tamil author who has written with great awareness on social issues and social problems. Nationally recognised and honoured for her writings, she is the recipient of several awards. Her works have been translated into many Indian languages, English, Japanese and Ukrainian. Some of her major works are Oru Manithanin Kathai, Awan, Nandu, Verillathia Marangal,

Amma Chonna Kathaikal. Knit India Through Literature is her mega-project involving intense sourcing, research and translation of literature from 18 Indian languages, with a mission to introduce Indians to other Indians through culture and literature.

Author's Note

My first exposure to the world of drug addiction came in 1970 during my first trip to the United States. The enormity of the problem and its horrifying consequences gripped my imagination and remained embedded in my subconscious. A decade and a half later, my thoughts have taken the shape of Avan. The UN declared 1985 the International Year of the Youth and I felt the need to commemorate this in my own way by writing a serialised story on the problem of drug abuse that was by then assuming alarming proportions in India. I wanted to create an awareness of drug addiction and its consequent problems amongst the people, particularly among parents and the youth.

The reasons why people take to smoking, drinking or drugs are many but the following are the most common

a) For the sheer pleasure of it.

b) Unable to contain their curiosity over drugs.

c) Coerced into it by peers.

Apart from this, yet another important reason is the easy access to money that many of the young today enjoy. Psychologists claim that in families where both parents are working, there is often an attempt to overindulge the children by giving them money and gifts to compensate for their inability to spend quality time with their children.

I would like to add that the 'generation gap' that adults have allowed to creep into their relationships with their children is yet another reason for their indulging in such endangering practices. We should also acknowledge that the root cause of relationship conflicts is lack of communication. Free and frank discussions from time to time would go a long way towards nipping conflicts in the bud. We need to understand that it is entirely in our hands how peacefully we lead our lives and how we are able to keep it conflict free. Experts feel that if we develop our self confidence and give up on leaning on others and looking up to them to resolve our problems, we will be able to face up to life in a far more self assured manner.

I would like to stress here that while the story is fictional, although pieced together on the lives of the numerous drug addicts I met and the case studies experts provided me with, the material provided at the end of each chapter related to drugs, their aftereffects and so on are completely factual. I express my gratitude to all of those people drug addicts, doctors, parents and others—who opened up to me during my research to write this story. The book is as much theirs as it is mine!

My sincere thanks to Shobana Swaminathan, Rekha Shetty and Janaki Viswanathan for helping me translate the original Tamil version to English.

Sivasankari.

Chapter 1

The insistent noise showed no signs of fading. Filtering through the mists of sleep it bored into his consciousness. Someone was knocking persistently at his door. It was his mother. He opened his eyes a slit. Light poured in through the window. Gosh! It was quite late. His head ached abominably.

Prem, are you planning to get up or not? It's 7.30. His mother was irritating, but right. He stumbled out of bed wondering whether this was what a hangover was like. The kind his father jokingly complained about after staying up half the night drinking.

Last night was strange. He was appointed unofficial bartender at the party. He hated the condescending way his Dad's friends had treated him as though he was only 10 years old. 'Have a drink kid!' his father had said, his voice already slurred by a couple of large ones. Poor guy! He had not known that his young son was smarter than he looked. Prem remembered the guilty pleasure of gulping down several unauthorised pegs without Dad's knowledge. Not that he could notice much either in the state that he was in. Unlike his usual judge-like demeanour, he was slightly unsteady, overflowing with drunken goodwill. Prem was sure he would never act so foolish even after several pegs. The old man was quite embarrassing!

Open the door!' his mother's voice took on a no-nonsense edge.

Prem opened the door and looked blearily at her.

Your first day of college and you're still asleep. You should have been ready by now. Revathi, having risen at dawn and freshly bathed, felt righteously indignant.

She could not understand this son of hers. How could someone brought up in her immaculate house, keep his room in such a mess? Her face wrinkled in distaste as she bent down to pick up the clothes and books strewn around the room in wild disarray. She looked at Prem. He was looking at her amused. It maddened her. 'How many times have I told you to get into your pyjamas before going to bed?'

Sorry Ma, I was tired,' mumbled Prem, looking slightly resentful.

So what? I am really fed up with you, Prem. Yesterday you walked into the party right after tennis. You looked like some rotten stuff the cats brought in. I have never been so embarrassed in my life! Revathi could hear her voice becoming shrill. Prem slumped down on the bed, looking sullen and harassed.

Revathi felt a pang. Maybe she was being too harsh. 'Listen to me,' she said calmly. 'I am saying this only because I care for you. Look at Sandhya. Everyone tells me how lucky I am to have a daughter like her.'

Prem looked at her indifferently across the chasm which yawned between them. Her soul hardened. An accusing note crept into her voice

"Did you drink last night? She demanded in a rising tone.

'Dad asked me to help myself,' said Prem defiantly.

Finding an opening, Revathi launched into a tirade. 'Dad must have thought that at 17 you are adult enough to have some sense of responsibility. Does that mean you have to drink a whole glass? A sip would have been enough!'

Prem tried to shut out her nagging comments. Having to listen to her hysterical lectures at this early hour and in a state of hangover added to his irritation. God! He wished he could go back to sleep. Why couldn't she get lost!

Prem threw himself into bed and turned his back on her. Revathi felt helpless as she always did when Prem acted this way. She looked around. A typical teenager's room-giant posters on the wall, hairy Beatles and Brooke Shields with a come-hither look. Cars about to zoom off. The room was in a mess-clothes thrown around, guitar propped up in a corner, books scattered all over the bed and his tennis racket flung together with his shoes in a corner.

Prem's resentful silence and her inability to dent his indifference enraged her. "Why don't you clean your room? You don't allow the servant to clean it. Can't you even put out your dirty clothes for wash? Look at Sandhya's room... it is spotless. She is busy too. How does she find time?' Revathi's voice was shrill and accusing.

'I am not like your precious Sandhya. I don't want to be like her! So don't bring up any comparison. I had guitar classes and then the party. I told you I had no time. Don't go on and on.'

'Don't make me go on and on. I keep telling you the same things. What is the use? Sandhya has NCC, college, French classes. Yesterday she even helped me with the dessert. She finds the time, but you never do!

Prem felt choked. It was always like this. The pointless comparisons. The attacks on his self-esteem.

‘Ok,' he said with a hint of tears in his voice She is a winner and I am a loser. She is brilliant and I am a fool. You like her and you don't like me. Now just leave me alone!

The pain in his voice finally reached Revathi. She hugged him penitently. 'No, Prem. That is not true. You are both my children and I love you too. I only wish you were more responsible.' Prem turned away, walked into the bathroom and banged the door shut.

Prem was seething with rage. The unfairness of it all! Didn't they care that he played the guitar almost like a professional? His friends said he had a great future. He was the school champ in tennis, but all his parents cared about was his studies. 'Study computer science or be an MBA. Education is the only foundation for a great future,' his father preached solemnly a thousand times. How boring it all was! The future... all of it sounded like nonsense. ‘Bloody nonsense!' Prem said to himself, with a savage satisfaction, having used a forbidden word.

He desperately needed a smoke to calm him. The cigarettes were carefully hidden under the clothes in his cupboard. What if his mother was still there? She was sure to start howling at him again about dripping water all over the bedroom. That would be the beginning of another lecture on cleanliness, responsibility, blah, blah! Forget it

After a quick shower he dragged on his old Levis and a T-shirt, combed his hair, ruffling it again to give it a fashionably disarrayed look. Checked his wallet. Twelve rupees was fine for the first day of college. Picked up his half-read Sidney Sheldon and walked to the breakfast table. His Dad was there, dressed perfectly as usual.

Good morning son, he said looking up from The Economic Times.

'Morning, Dad. All set?'

Yes, Dad.

'Excited?'

His mouth full, Prem nodded.

"Good. Now hurry up and change.'

I'm ready, Prem said.

Don't tell me you're going to college dressed like this.

What's wrong with this?

'Wrong? It's revolting. The shirt is not even clean. Go and change at once! 'Dad... please!

I don't want any arguments. I'm ashamed of you. Change immediately. And why can't you comb your hair?'

Prem went up sullenly to change, while his father waited, glancing impatiently at his watch. Mom and Sis were waiting to wish him luck. After all it was a special day-his first day at college. His Dad drove him down. A special treat on the first day. As usual, his father used the opportunity to advise him on the importance of education. Prem switched off. He had heard it a thousand times before.

He got off at the college, waited for his father to leave, carefully ruffled his hair and walked up nonchalantly to the imposing gates.

He stopped short when he saw a row of boys perched on the compound wall. One of them, a tall, moustachioed young man, snapped his fingers at him. Hi! I'm Sunil he grinned looking down at the nonplussed fresher. Be a good boy. Greet your elders! Buck up man. Don't stare like an idiot. Do it the Indian way. Touch our feet.

He smiled sardonically at Prem, waiting for him to pay his respects.

***

Sunil

Prem is meeting Sunil for the first time today. Sunil is an only child to his parents. His father Bhagvandas started life as a clerk to a wealthy Englishman but hard work saw him rise in life. Today, he owns tea estates in Kotagiri and enjoys a luxurious lifestyle. Sunil's mother Rohini hailed from a poor family too, much like her husband. Her husband's newfound riches have not changed her and she leads a fairly austere life, spending much of her time in prayer. She is unable to cope with her husband's ultra modern lifestyle and puts up with all his excesses, clinging on to the age-old belief that the husband is like God, and that his word is law.

Sunil was born to them after nearly seventeen years of marriage, following visits to various shrines and the performance of numerous rituals. It is quite understandable then why they indulge and cherish him so much, why they give in to his every whim and fancy.

Sunil grew up studying in a convent school in Ooty.

He started smoking while in Class VIII and in two years' time graduated to two packs a day. He had his first taste of beer at the age of fourteen. By the time he was graduating from school, he could boast of having tasted just about every drink available.

Sunil was able to complete his schooling, thanks to the fat annual donations Bhagvandas made to the school. He crossed the hurdle of Boards as well, after Bhagvandas, fearing Rohini's tears, tracked down the teachers correcting each of the papers and bribed them sufficiently to enable Sunil to clear all the papers. Sunil joined a college in Madras and is now in II year BA. Of course, he has not cleared any of his I year papers and the fact that he is a hostelite ensures that there is nobody around to question him.

His friend Jagannathan first introduced Sunil to grass or ganja when he was in Class XII. He started with just one or two but is now accustomed to smoking close to a dozen ganja cigarettes every day.

Sunil has no financial worries. Why would he, with a mother like Rohini? Whenever her son asked her for money, she treated it like a request from God. She gave in unconditionally to his demands.

Every alternate day, Sunil would buy a tola of ganja, and use it to make around twenty-five cigarettes. He was very generous with them and offered them to friends and classmates for free, wanting them to experience the ecstasy he did.

Chapter 2

Ok, come on.

Good morning!

'In Tamil.’

'Vanakkam.’

'Is this how you greet your elders?'

Vanakkam, Sir.

Who do you think you are? A General? A little more respect if you don't mind. The spine can do with a little more bending.

Prem gave a quick glance round. Where the hell were Mahesh and Siva? Mahesh was doing his B Com and Siva, Chemistry. Both were known to Prem.

'Don't bother about ragging on the first day of college,' they had told him. 'We'll be at the gate and tell the other seniors you are a pal of ours.’

'Hey, lay off him, we'll tell them. Don't worry!’ But neither