Poison!! - Short Story

“You will be dead today. If I don’t kill you, you are not going to leave me alive”, Khasim Uncle’s voice could be heard aloud from the opposite house. Remembering Khulsum Khala, I came out leaving the roti half-eaten.

Khasim Uncle is approximately 60 years old. His is a hard-worked body. Even now, he is strong a man. Khulsum Khala, on the other hand, is thin and frail like a twig. Khasim Uncle cannot sleep if he doesn’t fight at least once a day. All his four sons got married and went away. They don’t bother about this old man. He talks as if Khulsum Khala is responsible for all this. “This idiot delivered these stupid and uncaring sons and threw them on me”, he says and shouts loudly, abuses and beats her. Only then, Khasim Uncle is satisfied. I fear that Khala will die of those beatings some day.

“Do you think I will allow you to go out? I will not be at peace until I butcher you to pieces” Khasim Uncle stood near the tatty with a fat stick in his hand. A tiled house constructed in an area of 50 yards. To grow vegetable plants in the area around it, he used mats as walls and a door to separate it.

I thought that he stood as a barrier to prevent Khulsum Khala from attempting to go out, unable to bear his beatings.

In the meanwhile, a small goat kid came out from beside his legs. “Die, you bitch!” so saying, Khasim Uncle strongly threw the stick.

Due to that beating, the kid shouted sadly…fell down for a few seconds…got up again and ran into my house with the fear of life. Khasim Uncle too came along behind it with the raised stick.

I could not control my anger when he was beating the kid, which I was lovingly nurturing, in front of my eyes.

“Beware, Khasim Uncle! I will not consider that you are older than I am. Are you a human being? It’s a voiceless creature. That too, a small kid. How could you beat it so to death?” I said angrily.

“Just kill…I will butcher…with great difficulty, I have planted the vegetable plants and this animal is not letting them come to life. The Ridge Gourd creeper…it bloomed so well and gave so many gourds. We are so excited that the creeper would bear fruits very soon and don’t know from where this catastrophe came by…it ate without leaving behind even one leaf. Today, I would slay this animal and distribute half a kilo of mutton to everyone in our Islampet”, said he angrily.

“I am not here wearing bangles like a lady. If anyone dares to even touch it, all will be beheaded”, I roared excitedly.

My wife came out, caught the poor, trembling kid and cried terribly. “See dear…how scared this is…it’s trembling as if it caught flu and fever. Wish their heads be broken! Is it enough to give birth to four children? Devils with no understanding of what love and affection is”, she started abusing.

Khulsum Aunty too came out and was taking the side of her husband. “We too nurtured plants…with lot more love. Wish her tongue dies down! Did it leave even one plant alive? Anyway, you are a childless woman. How would you know what love is?” listening to her words, my wife started sobbing and crying even more.

“If at all it comes again to my house, I will kill it by poisoning it. Beware!” said Khasim Uncle.

“Do so. If I don’t send you to jail then, my name will not remain as Goat Mastan”, said I.

“Hey…I am not a fool. I will poison my plants. Your kid will come, eat these plants and will die. Then, I will not be prosecuted in the case.”

For a second, I was scared that he would do whatever he said.

I knelt down to the kid, “he is a heartless criminal. He may poison you. Otherwise, he will sell you to the mutton shop fellow, Khaja. You don’t go to his house. But why are you so excited to go there? As soon as I am done with my breakfast, as usual, I would have taken you out, plucked the leaves and would have fed you those…see those people…they have abused even mother…” I said.

As if it understood, it turned towards me and my wife and bleated.

“You left breakfast midway. Eat the remaining roti and then go” Begum requested but I didn’t feel like eating.

I took the pruning hook and strolled out along with the kid. Khulsum Aunty talked so much! What if I don’t have children…these voiceless kids and goats are our children. My father died when I was 10 years old. From then on, the burden of our family fell on my shoulders. I bought two goats and nurtured them. After sometime, they grew to twenty five. I felt quite proud when everyone in Islampet called me “Goat Mastan”. I got my younger brother, Ghouse, educated with the income that came from them. I got married. My younger brother got a job as an Assistant to the Veterinarian in the Veterinary Hospital. I got him married. Now, he has three children.

To bring up the goats as our own children…sell them away for a good price…was my profession. My heart became heavy every time I had to sell them away. This business that I was doing, keeping all my emotions aside, did not last long as I felt very disturbed. I stopped this. I retained this kid and sold all the other goats. With the money I got, I opened a pan shop in Addanki bus stop. Life is going on smooth. But, some problem or the other with the opposite house Khasim…my kid is so sweet and adorable…they are unable to digest this, they are envious. It ate just the leaves…did it snatch away their properties?

Younger brother, Ghouse’s house is on the way. I sat there for about 10 minutes and vented out everything. “Khasim Uncle said that he would poison all his plants and thereby our kid.”

”You can’t be so innocent, brother! If he poisons the plants, will those not wither and die?” said he. I felt he was right. I was a little relieved.

“However, what more poisonous than the chemical fertilizers and insecticides, that are used these days, can be? May be such a day will befall in near future?!”

“What such a day?!” I asked fearfully.

“The day when animals would eat plants and die…the day when people would die by consuming vegetables” he said.

Trying to understand his words, I started out in search of trees filled with lot of leaves. Once upon a time when I had twenty five goats, the food for those was never a big issue. There were many trees at only 100 yards distance to my house. There has been a lot of change in the past five or six years. Fifty houses in Islampet became about two hundred. The trees were felled; land was made even and was sold as house plots. The trees that we found after walking a mile last year could now be seen after walking two miles.

I stopped near the trees beside the Pothuraju Canal, plucked the leaves with the pruning hook and started towards home. It was already 8 O’clock by then. I have to open the pan shop by 8:30 AM.

“Jattan Begum! Please tie this animal so that it will not go to Khasim Uncle’s house” I said.

“Not just for you. It’s a darling to me as well. I will protect it carefully. Don’t worry” said my wife.

As she had promised, she protected it carefully.

My goat kid grew up now. It’s pregnant. My dreams caught wings. It will deliver three or four kids. After they grow up, they will also have kids. My home will be full of goats and it would be so enjoyable.

“Today is Sunday. You said you feel like eating mutton. Go soon and come. Otherwise, that Khaja will give us all bits and pieces of whatever is remaining” said Begum.

I spoke with Ghouse on my way. He said he wanted one kilo mutton. Speaking gossip, we reached the mutton shop. “Mastan brother, one kilo or two kilos”, asked Khaja.

“Why are you teasing Khaja brother? We are just two of us…your sister-in-law and I…half kilo is enough” I said.

Cutting a big piece from the thigh portion that was hanging, he again cut this into small pieces, weighed these and put them in a black plastic cover and gave it to me.

“When did you start using these plastic covers, Khaja brother? Even last week, you packed them in almond leaves” I enquired.

“Everyone is using these now-a-days. Our Kirana shop Vali is also packing all the groceries in plastic bags. It’s easy to carry these”, said Khaja.

“Oh yes! Day before yesterday, I had gone to buy half kilo dal. Previously, he used to pack in bags. That day, he put the stuff in this kind of a plastic cover” I said.

“Everyone is saying that these bags are quite comfortable. That’s why I bought the stock for the whole year. If I buy in bulk, I would get them for a cheaper price, Mastan brother”, he clarified.

Ghouse interfered, “I overheard my Veterinarian saying that these kind of plastic bags are harmful to health”, he said…

“Why”, I asked even before Khaja could.

“It seems that these contain certain cancerous chemicals. Now-a day, these are used as carry bags in hotels as well. It seems this is more dangerous. Due to the heat of the food, those chemicals would melt and after going inside our bodies, they cause harm.”

Thinking that the customers who have come there to buy mutton would feel anxious, “Those are all false fears, Ghouse brother! People who wish to talk would keep talking. People who wish to use would keep using. Sometime ago, it seems it has come in the newspaper that cell phones cause cancer. But, did we stop using cell phones? My son bought me a cell phone. Here it is”, so saying, he showed it.

“Even though there is harm or loss, if used limitedly, the impact of that will be less”, said Ghouse.

“What is there in our hands? God (Allah) has to be generous, otherwise, where there is no danger? Is the air that we inhale pure, is the drinking water pure? If death is destined, it comes in some form or the other”, Khaja spoke philosophically.

Ghouse told other things also on our way back. “The waste papers that we use and throw, the eatables, leaves, everything would get mixed up in the earth. But, this plastic doesn’t melt in the mud. Don’t know if you have noticed or not, in our Islampet, the sight of these bags beside streets and dust bins is on the rise now”.

“Yes. Black, White bags are seen either flying due to breeze or are half-hidden in the sand.”

“The use of these, even though there is no necessity, is increasing. Man is looking at the comfort factor but not at the harm that is created due to these. See our Khaja. He was previously packing the meat in dried leaves or almond leaves and now, he is into these plastic covers. Competition…people are imitating one another.”

“Oh Yes! Day before yesterday, I went to the medical shop to buy Amrutanjan and six Crocin tablets for headache. Even these were given in a black plastic cover. Those can actually be held in the hand or put in the pocket.”

After lunch, I took a nap. I was woken up by someone who was calling out my name loudly. When I saw, I found it was Birappa. His livelihood is to nurture goats and sheep.

“What Birappa? Came in the hot sun” I asked.

“I heard something that I should not have heard. So, I came running. Our Ghouse brother is there. So, needed to ask him and find out…”

“What is it?”

“It seems our Government has passed a rule to kill goats? I heard from someone and I became anxious. If this is so, what about people like us? Our lives will turn into ashes…we will all be jobless”, said he.

Listening to this, I too became quite anxious. Why should the goats be killed? How unjust? What sin did they commit? What crime did they commit?

“No…I don’t think it’s true Birappa…it could be a rumor. Doesn’t the government have any other important work than to kill goats?” I said.

We felt it better to discuss this with Ghouse. So, we went to him. He too said that he was not aware of it. He said he would talk to his doctor the next day and then inform us.

I was worried thinking about my goat. It is pregnant…I was protecting it somehow from Khasim Uncle and now should I save it from the government…is it a possibility...Can I fight with the government…?

The next day, even before Ghouse came back from the hospital, the news came on the TV. As there is a great danger to plants and trees due to goats, the government is considering the killing of goats. Birappa and I together went to Ghouse at 8 O’clock in the night.

“What kind of injustice is this...why should they kill these innocent goats…what kind of obstacles are they to the government…they are living on their own” said I.

“Their argument is that if the leaves of plants and trees, which are a source of Oxygen to human beings, are reduced, then, the supply of oxygen will also be reduced. So, the Minister opines that if the goats are all destroyed, then, we can protect nature.

“What about people like us, Ghouse brother?” asked Birappa worriedly.

“They assured that they would think of an alternative for you, didn’t they?”

“Will they really kill our goats?” there was fear in Birappa’s eyes.

“What can come in the way if the Government decides on this? Remember, last year, when hens were affected by Bird Flu disease, thousands of hens were killed and buried?”

“Will they kill sheep as well?”

“No. They are exempted. Goats raise their front legs and reach even high branches for leaves and eat them away; whereas, sheep do not raise their heads. They walk with bent heads. So, they eat fallen leaves. So, the Minister said that there is no danger to the environment.”

“It’s so absurd! Will our goats climb the trees and eat leaves? If it cannot reach, then, I pluck those with my hooked stick…even sheep are like that” said I.

Even in such a sad moment, Birappa laughed. “I thought the sheep that I raise are brainless. I am coming to know just now that even the Minister doesn’t have brains!”

“True. I overheard my doctor saying that if a car travels on the road for an hour, it robs oxygen that is required for two people. So many cars have increased in our Ongole. The Banks are calling people and giving loans to them. Even low class employees who at one time could afford only cycles, are now rushing to buy cars. The government never regulates this…instead; the government widens the roads for the sake of cars. Because, this is business. They are just not bothered about the impending danger due to this”, said Ghouse.

“People are felling trees inhumanly for constructing houses. They are converting fields into house plots and selling them away. Without thinking about all this, why are they talking about killing goats? As they cannot do that, they are doing this”, I said.

I couldn’t eat that night. I couldn’t sleep, either. Bad dreams…nightmares…I was babbling…

They are forcibly taking my daughter away. A guardsman is standing near the stone halter with a big sword in his hand. My daughter is wriggling away. “Sir…please leave her alone. She is not a normal person now. First pregnancy. Have mercy”, so saying, I fell at their feet.  

My wife was incessantly crying. “My daughter…innocent daughter…I will fall on your feet…please leave it”. Even then, they didn’t show pity. They slaughtered its head in one go. Head on one side…body on the other…embryo in the stomach…I was frantically and madly searching…I was shouting aloud…I was crying bitterly.

I woke up suddenly. My body was boiling hot like a frying pan. Fever…it didn’t subside till it troubled me for four days.

The Opposition Part didn’t agree to the Minister’s opinion. The families of the shepherds protested against it. Rastaroko and Dharnas were staged. Some attempted suicides. The Environment Minister had to take back his decision.

I heaved a sigh of relief. The same day, I informed Ghouse and took the goat to the veterinary doctor. He said that it was very healthy and that there is a chance of it giving birth to four kids.  He also said that the delivery would take place in a week’s time. There were no boundaries to my happiness. I was counting the days. One…two…three days…

On the fourth day, the goat was suddenly trembling vigorously and it collapsed. I feared that the kids inside its stomach could have turned upside down. I put it in a rickshaw and took it to the veterinary hospital. Its eyes became hazy. It was frothing…foam was coming out of its mouth.

I got a doubt then. May be Khasim Uncle gave poison to it…I expressed my doubt to Ghouse. The Doctor gave two injections. Even then, there was no change in the situation. “I know. It’s his scheme. Old fox. He poisoned my goat”, so saying I broke down.

“Doctor! Please save my goat. It’s fully pregnant. This is the first pregnancy. I will fall on your feet, doctor’.

“Doesn’t the doctor know…don’t cry brother”, said Ghouse.

All trials of the doctor to save the goat went in vain. The goat, which I brought up with so much of love, died.

“Doctor! Please tell the truth. It’s poison, isn’t it?” I asked, seething in anger, thinking of Khasim Uncle.

“Yes, it’s poison”.

“Didn’t I say so…he only gave the poison. I will kill him”, said I to Ghouse tightening my fist.

“How many people would you kill? This is plastic poison. The goat ate the plastic covers. It died because of this. It seems huge sea monsters are dying by eating the plastic things. What is the surprise in a goat dying?” said the doctor.

“Plastic poison? Oh God!” so saying, I collapsed.

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(Original Telugu Short Story: Dr Saleem

 Translated by: Me) 

(Published in Katha, Book of Translated Short Stories, 2010)