Manas had made arrangements for my stay at his friend, Joy Joseph’s room. Joy was a Gujarati man in his forties, lived most of his life in the United States, continued to live there without a visa, even after their rules changed. He married someone whom he had dated for years, got separated and dated a new lady. When he got deported they froze all his funds and left him empty-handed at the age of 40. His struggle to make himself a life in India looked frustrating.
A lovely human being, an old monk man, thoughtful and full of life and experiences. He was trying his best to take things easy. His mother lived in Gujarat and he was working with Manas's brother in Guwahati. I stayed there for more than 2 weeks and I didn't feel uncomfortable even once. He used to leave in the morning without breakfast and come back to first make a drink for himself. We just drank, smoked, and cooked. I got my much-needed rest before riding ahead. In fact, I had stayed there as I was waiting for my voter id which had to come by courier all the way from home. Manas ' brother suggested I ride to Bhutan because it was not too far away and since I had no original documents with me, I got my parents to send them to me by courier. Not even the bike was transferred in my name. The Platina was bought for 12000 rupees last year with the money I had saved when the homestay business picked up.
Back in college I used to work part-time at call centres during semester holidays and did promotions for Jack Daniels and Finlandia in the evenings for some extra money. Also used to lend money on interest until the great Tajuddin cheated me for almost 25000.
Getting older, I felt useless living on my parents’ income. However, The homestay was ready and bookings started flowing, but with our rotten government officials I ended up losing what I earned that year. Not to forget the floods reducing the business with all my commitments open!
For the homestay, I had to get a signature from the local town police. I was asked to wait for a couple of hours and then they asked me to come back in the evening. I came home and told my father. He made a few calls and with a little expense, the SI himself came to inspect the place and stood like a monk for the picture. Another DYSP was more concerned about my long hair than the documents. He made me cut my hair before signing the document, later asked about my caste and said he belongs to the same and started speaking well. In one way I was happy as it ended in just a 50 rupees charge but was again made to buy files worth 500 for the station! I wrote everything on the PMO app and filed a complaint with Human Rights for making me cut my hair.
For the first 2 days, I did nothing much but just smoke up. Washed my clothes and cooked, ate and drank in the evenings. One day Manas took me to his village. The villagers had arranged a grand send-off celebration to the retiring principal of the village school. It was so grand that they even brought an elephant to the feast. Another day he took me and Joy to a wedding of his colleague where we downed one beer and ate more than the relatives. Manas had got his friend's car to the wedding and it wouldn't open with the keys. After trying some stunts it clicked and we were out of that place.
One day we drank at Manas’ place while his parents were away. Mrigien joined a few times making some time for us. He even gave me a novel on Dawood, Dongri to Dubai, when I asked for a non-fiction book. Ohh Guwahati, it feels more than my own damn house and I wouldn't think twice to move there any day. What more do you need than a few good people around and life feels worth living.
I started my bike and Joy was there opening the gate for me, I was bidding goodbye to another good friend. His place was very comfortable and he took care of all my expenses. I told him I hoped to see him in Gujarat and rode towards the ferry. Manas had arranged me for a talk with the class 10 students so I had to get there. I reached just in time for the ferry, which moved within 5 minutes after I got in, he guided me to the school once I reached the other side of the Brahmaputra. The Kendriya Vidyalaya was on the IIT campus hence had to show an id before I was allowed in. He came to the gate and took me inside the school and showed me around. I felt so young, the atmosphere took me back to my school days with the beautiful paintings on the wall and very beautiful quotes all around and the sounds of school. Wow.
I entered and they all started, 'Good morning Sir.' I said. Just sit down guys, I’m no big teacher. Just here to talk. Gave them a glimpse of how life is, pushed them to do what they love doing, just gave an intro about me sufficient enough for them to realize what life lies ahead. When I was done they all cheered and some gave me chocolates. I Thanked them, came down to bid goodbye but it wasn't over yet. Bugger was about to finish work in 20 minutes so we decided to catch up for a tea before we said our goodbyes. In between, he locked me inside the computer lab so no one would disturb me as I made an authorization letter for the bike.
While I waited outside near a tea shop, I heard Malayalam suddenly, turned around to see a 6.4 feet man with long hair, and a well-built personality. I asked "Chetta Malayali aano." He said yes and we started a conversation there. He was married and living in the married couple hostel, doing his PhD in English along with a professor there. Basically from Kannur but had lived in Hyderabad and other places. He called his wife and introduced me to her and guided me to a place to find some weed.
I thought of buying some pot before Manas reached but it wasn't available. Came back and waited at the gate for Manas and he came out in 5 minutes. He had company, the art teacher responsible for those beautiful paintings along with her daughter. He drove ahead and I followed him till we had to part. He showed me my way and he took his. Manas was definitely missed, from the deepest corner of my heart. Man who cares these days to give space to a nobody at home and feed him for weeks and even on this visit, he made me feel very comfortable at Joy's place. The food, the hospitality and Manas! Overall the best part of this journey. Pagal, Bevda, crazy. Best friends are best explained with slang! Like Bosadike :) Whatever but there was a lot of love and affection. Not knowing what's ahead and with a feeling of tears filling my heart I rode on.
It was about 3 pm when I started; I rode 60 kilometres and stopped for a meal. Lovely thali with 2 vegetarian side dishes. I asked for an additional omelette. Filled to the neck, I rode on. Not finding a place to camp in the daylight, I thought I would have to find a room. But luckily I found a place around 6:30PM and wondering if it was too early to camp, I rode back to the previous junction to try my luck for some food and weed. On reaching a cigarette shop I lit a smoke and casually asked about weed. He looked more than happy to help, he guided me to a place 3 kilometres ahead. I thanked him and rode according to his directions. He had said, a long bridge and a Shiva temple. On finding the place, like he said ask any shop, I tried but the reaction wasn't good. Tried another shop and he asked me, how much. I said hundred and handed him the cash. He asked me to wait and then came back with 2 small pouches. I took it and came back to the place I had found to camp. Pitched the tent, smoked a joint and slept like a baby.
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