Life Stories: The great sugarcane heist in Balmuri
A throng of boys had gathered on the road outside Santosh’s house. They formed a huddle around Santosh who was usually the kingpin for such occasions. Excited buzz welled up from the center of the crowd as what appeared to be a furious discussion had reached a critical point. Santosh gesticulated to everyone around by pointing a slim brown finger to his lips. Clearly there was a master plan afoot and he did not want anyone outside of the gathering to get wind of it.
Everyone leaned forward expectantly while he took out a piece of paper, pursed up his eyebrows and started drawing with his pencil. In a few quick slashes he was done and he triumphantly held it out for everyone to see. All the boys craned their necks and what they saw bemused them completely. It looked like the long tail of a serpent that somehow had wrapped itself around a bunch of bushes, scaled up the ramparts of a brick wall, dived deep into a monstrous river and had contrived to transform itself into a whole field of upstanding scarecrows. Santosh was grinning from ear to ear no doubt overjoyed by his masterpiece but quite a few of the boys seemed incapable of recognizing the importance of the paper scrap.
But Bala had understood it alright and he snatched the paper from Santosh’s hands throwing it to the ground and stamping on it with abandon. He ran from one to another, begging, imploring them to go with him. However Santosh had most of the group under his thrall and all of them agreed to go with him even though they had no idea where they were going.
This victory was too much for Santosh to resist as he pompously turned around, retrieved the scrap and threw it into Bala’s face. A fierce shouting match broke out as Bala the brawny enforcer argued bitterly about what seemed to be a total dismissal of his choice. Bala was a short pugnacious little fellow and he did not spare anybody as a string of curse words streamed from his mouth punctuated by little gobs of spittle.
Bala warned them that all manner of things could go wrong and nothing good would come of this. Santosh’s smile grew larger as Bala rattled on until he burst out laughing rolling around in glee. A battle was looming and the sun had just emerged from its confines. The boys bickered amongst themselves but most of them were happy that the day was going to begin with a fight! It was patently clear that as far as entertainments went, a fight was at the top of the charts.
Santosh’s mother intruded into this tableau as only she could. She knew that something profound was going to happen as evidenced by the sudden escalation of yells, screams and a variety of other exhortations. She stepped into the breach with the expertise of a practitioner of the mystic arts of parental discipline and said “Santosh, what are you doing? The plants need watering and I need you to come right now”.
Santosh was no less wise in the ways of his mother, meekly answered back “Ok, mother I will be there immediately”. For some peculiar reason that seemed to satisfy his mother and as soon as she turned her back, he was off to the races. Each one of them had a bicycle and they stepped on their pedals and raced off down the road howling in unison. Their sudden flight broke Bala’s resistance and he gulped his bitterness down and went whooping after them.
A short distance later, Santosh stopped the cavalcade and explained his plan. As Santosh spoke, it became clear to the boys that the serpent he had drawn was in fact the road to Balmuri. Balmuri was a fabled name and an accomplishment of every stripling adventurer. They had heard scary stories of monsters that lurked in Balmuri’s whirlpools. Why, they all recalled the story of Monu who dived into Balmuri falls and never came back up. Suri, who was the youngest in the squad, recalled his grandmother’s tales of children being thrown into Balmuri falls if they did not heed their parents.
Their collective hearts beat a little faster and Santosh could see there were a few stragglers who needed to be convinced further.
He poked his grubby fingers at his paper map and asked them whether they had forgotten the true riches that Balmuri possessed. Balmuri’s sugarcane fields were the best for miles around. He told them how the canes were black, juicy and incredibly sweet. He also reassured them that they would be getting back enough to even satisfy their parents. This was the clincher for everyone was convinced that their parents would forgive any transgression as long as they brought such delicious gifts home! It was forthwith decided that they would take the road to KRS dam, follow the river until they hit the traveler’s bungalow and then they would cross over to Balmuri.
Onwards they went on their bicycles taking the Inkal road which led them out of town. The sun was pleasant warmth flowing in their veins and the sky formed innocent blue ripples in their eyes. The dusty road welcomed the early morning intruders for surely it was bored to death with endless silences and parsimonious traffic inhabiting these parts. With the thought of delicious sugarcane juice coating their lips the boys inched up the inclines and sped down the slopes. They soon settled into rhythm with Bala leading the pack and Santosh bringing up the rear.
Soon houses dwindled away and green fields undulated all around them. They passed the great banyan tree that guarded the south entrance to Balmuri. The sinister Shiva temple at the very edge of town watched the eager crowd pass by and uttered not a single word.
Raucous calls punctured the atmosphere as the flotilla moved steadily south and cheering every time they saw a milestone on the side. Every mile brought them closer to their destination and they pedaled with dreamy intensity on their faces. Brown paddy fields lined the entire stretch waving their heads from side to side spurring them on to go faster.
A bus huffed past them slowly and the boys shot forward furiously trying to get ahead of the sputtering behemoth. But eventually it pulled away from them and as it did so, a child popped its head out of the window and derisively yelled “pedal, pedal, monkey’s fiddle”. Bala furious at this dissertation, threw his cycle to the side and heaved a stone with all his might at the bus. Alas, it fell just short and the chants continued until the distance slowly muted the insidious voice.
But the boys were nothing if not resilient and a few dire threats later they set off again. Eventually they rounded a curve in the road and the Kaveri river showed herself, flowing away from them like a queen amongst peasants. Ecstatic for having reached their goal, they pushed forward with great frenzy until they reached the bank.
Bala jumped into the water and cursed the others saying “Come on you cats whiskers. Get into the river before I come there and drag you down”. The threat was sufficiently unpalatable given that they knew Bala would enjoy himself and so caution lost to rash bravery. All of them including young Suri jumped into the river and started swimming.
Santosh shouted at everyone to stay clear of the whirlpools for the renowned eddies of Balmuri would pull even good swimmers under and never let them go. Gleaming bodies rose like dolphins only to dive back inside again. Clothes were strewn gracelessly on the bank while their bicycles were in various states of supinity. The river bubbled and cavorted with them enjoying their enthusiasm with crashing crescendos of its own. Hours passed by until the sun was leaning towards the evening sky. The exhausted troop flopped on the banks of the river contemplating the marvels of their small but gratifying universe.
All of a sudden, Srini remembered the real reason for their journey and demanded to know when they would get the sugarcane. Indubitably this set off a wild chorus of “Sugarcane, Sugarcane, where are you my lion’s mane.” Eventually they tired of the litany and a deathly silence descended on the group for all of them were staring at Santosh. After all, he was the one who had promised them treasures far greater than their imagination.
Santosh seized the moment and very pompously marched to the center knowing that he had everyone’s attention. He strutted about examining the sky and the angle of the river until their patience was nearly spent. Finally he relented and told them that he had selected himself, Bala, Srini and Naren for the expedition to get the sugarcane. He pulled out his map and explained that they had to cross the travelers bungalow, scale the wall, drop into the river and swim to the far side. Once across, they could enter the field from an angle that no one would suspect and swim back with as many sugarcane sticks as possible.
The plan was put into effect almost immediately as the four swimmers made their way across the Kaveri river. The current kept pulling them down and they had to fight to get across the river but eventually all of them landed on the far side. They uprooted the sugarcanes and carried them back to the bank and were all ready to start swimming back when they heard the most unholy yelling.
It was Naren who was screaming and jumping like banshee tearing at his underwear! It turned out that many hundreds of ants belonging to the fiercely proud red brigades had jumped into his underwear and were now performing surgery on his essentials. He tore off his clothes and spun himself around like a top gone mad and eventually dived stark naked into the river. All of them waded into the river clutching the sugarcanes and slowly swam across where the boys were waiting with feverish impatience.
The arrival of the sugarcanes on the bank marked a turning point in the day’s proceedings. Wild whoops rent the air as the sugarcanes were measured, stroked, smelt and squeezed until their muscles ached. When Naren emerged from the water with a fiery red naked midsection, the entire congregation dissolved in helpless laughter. Santosh took pity on him and helped him into his clothes thus rendering the amusement moot for the moment. He had no doubt that this story would be retold for years maybe even decades garnished by several different variations to the truth.
The happy troop of boys tied the sugarcanes to their bicycles and returned back along the same route that had led them to Balmuri in the morning. The ride back home was a silent affair as all the boys dwelt on the amazing success of the afternoon. They always say that furtive pleasures are the sweetest and so it had proved. But the day was not done with them yet and Bala’s untimely prophecy did come true.
As they neared the edge of the town, a gang of ruffians saw the sugarcanes and stopped them on the road. They were politely asked to dismount, hand over the sugarcanes and were told in no uncertain terms to get out of there. The sugarcanes were surrendered without a fight and suitably chastened the boys returned back home without the prize that they had so coveted. It was a damp ending to what had been a memorable day.
Life is a wonderful mixture of valleys and peaks which alternate in quick succession. Santosh went back to his mother to water the plants. Even Bala did not have the energy to say “I told you so”. All the other boys bade a somber goodbye and went their separate ways.
The fruits of Balmuri had disappeared into the whirlpool of life but it was a day that would last forever in the minds of its young admirers. The story written that has reverberated for decades and will truly remain one of the untold lessons in living.
No deed goes unpunished
Life stories are always about real life experiences which are collected from real people. Sometimes I do it myself and at other times I get it second hand. Names/places are generally fictitious so that the subject’s identity is not compromised. In this particular case, I have not spared any of them and have identified them by their real names and places are genuine.
In case you are interested in my collection of life stories, they can be found here:
Hi adarshh,
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thank you @curie. your appreciation is great