Nomads

Chapter 4, Pt 5- Freedom

“I think Siliguri would be too far in one go. We will have to stop at Malda” Nasr said, as they packed up to leave. It was 5:30 am in the morning and they had to leave early for Malda. Malda was a small city, about three hundred and twenty kilometers towards North from Kolkata and it was going to be a long journey.

The security guard unlocked their bike and they left, it was still dark outside and the streets were very empty. It was slowly brightening up, as they twilight coloured the city in an overcast-greyish hue. They were a bit sad to leave Kolkata, both of them had fallen in love with it. The almost completely British city, was too hard for them to leave. They were going to miss the night-life of Park Street. They gave their word to each other that if they were successful in starting a new life in Sikkim, they would definitely visit Kolkata again. Nasr had put on his metal playlist, now listening to the depressing music, calmer than ever.

‘There is a peace in the screams that you wouldn’t understand. Like someone else is screaming away your agony, numbing your senses. Oh, the numbing peace. You just don’t know how fucked up in the head you have to be when you find peace in the chaotic screams of someone else’s pain. It’s the death of your soul and the birth of a darker side of you, that is somehow saner than the happier and calm side of you. I commit a suicide with every line of a depressing metal song that I hear. People might think people like me are crazy, but we are the ones who can find peace in the chaos.’ He thought.

They asked around the way to Dumdum from where they would take the NH12 to travel straight up north to Malda. When they were near a traffic square in Dumdum, Nasr asked a small lorry driver for directions and he showed them the way to NH-12.

But NH-12 was not what they had expected it to be. In contrast to the six-lane NH-16, NH-12 was barely even a proper road. It was just a narrow two-way single road that was broken everywhere. It was a very bumpy ride and exhausted Nasr and Subash very quickly. After barely even thirty minutes of driving, they were looking for a place to stop and have breakfast. The scenery had drastically changed from highway side towns to vast stretches of rice fields, orchards and randomly scattered tropical fruit trees like Banana and palm trees. There were very small villages and towns appearing randomly.

After an hour more of driving, they finally stopped at a small restaurant that was just opening. They were hoping to find just something to eat, they were exhausted and just needed a break and something to refill their energy.

They waited there for the breakfast to cook; they were the only customers there. Nasr ate Puri (fried flour bread) with sugar cubes, meanwhile Subash had Chana Curry with Puri. It wasn’t the perfect breakfast, but it was something. Little did they know that they had a long journey ahead. Nasr clicked a shot of them having their food, and the red Apache bike parked outside.

They made their way on the bumpy road again. After a few minutes of riding, Nasr got a call from his mother.

“Nasr, I want to see your face. Please”, she pleaded.

Nasr became emotional, he had started to respect his parents ever since he had learned that they were respecting his decision to start his own life.

“Okay mom, I will send you a photo.” He said.

“Video call me?” his mother asked with sadness clearly reflecting in her voice.

But Nasr was smart, he knew that video calling would give away his location instantly. They may be tracking him. Even though he had turned his phone on, he had kept the geotagging location off along with GPS. Turning off geotagging meant that his phone would not be able to triangulate his last location, even in case of an emergency SOS.

“I will send you a video”, he said.

They parked their bike, near a small hut with trees around where there were no trees or even the road was not visible. Signboards and number plates of vehicles would have definitely given their location away. It was Subash’s idea to do so.

Nasr recorded a video of himself, saying that he was safe and they were doing okay.

“Where are you? I don’t see any buildings or anything. Don’t tell me you are in a forest or something”, his mother called him up and said.

“No, I am not,” Nasr replied, we are on our way.

“Where are you exactly going?”

“I can’t say that. How is Pappa?”

“He is stable now, better after seeing that you are safe. Why did you do this to him?” she asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why did you block your sister? She wants to talk to you. She is missing you. Talk to her, she is beside me.”

“I don’t want to have to do anything with her”, he said sternly.

He talked to his mother for a while and they continued their journey.

They were near Kishannagar. His maternal uncle had called him several times.

“Are you going to Bangalore?” he asked.
“I can’t say,” Nasr said.

“Do you have anyone there? A friend?”

“No.”

“Just tell us the truth, Nasr. We are here supporting your decision; you don’t even think us deserving enough to know where you are going. Think about your father, give him some hope.”

“I’m going somewhere else.” He said.

“Sikkim? Isn’t that the place you always wanted to go again?”

“Yes, Sikkim”, he said with a sigh. He did not see any more reason to hide from them. He loved his family, no matter what he had faced. He was not an emotional person, he barely gave away emotions, but seeing someone in pain always broke him. Subash was very disappointed in him.

His uncle had later tried to call him, convince him to send the money they had through a cash deposit machine. He gave the reason that his father required surgery. But he was very skeptical, he knew that his father would have kept some savings elsewhere and even that he didn’t have any, he had very rich relatives who would definitely help him. They just wanted to track his location or take the money just so maybe that he would give up.

But he even contemplated sending the money, just to show that he was not an emotionless selfish person. But Subash was there to keep him on the right track. They didn’t send the money, although he had told his uncle that he would somehow try to send it. Eventually, his uncle called to inform him that the money was arranged.

Nasr and Subash took turns after that in driving, and stopped at a garage to run a short repair check of the bike.