Towards the Within

by Reece Willis

  I slipped out of the room as our friends sat in silence. With my back to the door, I let out a sigh, glad to be away from the uncomfortable atmosphere. I was about to go downstairs and order when the young man that carried our bags, came up the steps. I tilted an imaginary bottle to my lips and he beckoned me to follow him, leading me up a flight of stairs to an open rooftop. There, with his back to us, stood a chubby man cooking on a stove against a blackened wall. The young porter tugged on the cook’s vest and he turned around with a beaming smile, ‘Ah hello, my friend. My name is Harish. Welcome please. What can I be doing for you on this fine day?’

  The jolly man in his late twenties offered me a chair by a swaying electric fan.

  ‘Could I get seven soft drinks please?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course.’ He opened the refrigerator, ‘What you like? We have Pepsi and Thums up, Mirinda, Citra and Limca.’

  ‘Okay. I only know Pepsi. What are the others?’

  ‘Limca is lemon-lime, Thums Up is cola, Citra is orange,’ he twisted a bottle to read the label, ‘and this Mirinda is orange too.’

  ‘I’ll have four Pepsis and one of each of the others, please. Can I sit and drink one up here?’ I wasn’t ready to go back to the room just yet.

  ‘Why not? Please, sit and enjoy sunshine and drink.’

  He asked my name and country, ‘It is a pleasure to be meeting you Mr Sam. This is Nitin,’ he pointed to the young man who brought me up here. I was then introduced to two other teenagers washing and drying dishes in the corner, ‘Anil is on left, Rajeev is on right.’ They were unable to hear the introductions above the clatter. ‘You would like to see more of Delhi? Come.’ I followed Harish up a bamboo ladder to another level which overlooked the rooftops of Paharganj for as far as I could see. Kites darted the sky, people hung washing, tended to flowerpots or relaxed and read a book. I even caught a glimpse of a game of cricket being played.

  ‘I am thinking you are in room number twelve,’ Harish said, sipping his tea from a plain china cup.

  ‘That’s right. Why, are we a bit noisy?’

  ‘Oh no, Mr Sam, nothing like that. I am thinking that some of you must be sleeping on floor.’

  ‘Only three of us, but they’re okay with it, they’re hardy travellers.’

  ‘Oh, if they are being happy, that is good.’ Harish looked across the city and then to the sky, ‘You and friends must come to roof tonight. I am feeling big storm in my bones, air too thick. I am hoping to see all of Delhi light up this evening.’

  ‘Thanks Harish, that sounds cool. I’ll tell the others.’

  Nitin assisted me with the drinks to the room and went back upstairs. I opened the door and was immediately engulfed by smoke. Everyone was thankful for the drinks except Aiden, who refused any of the choices. I sat on the floor and Alan passed me a chillum. I smoked a little and another was passed from Glen. I coughed, but not as much as before. And then it hit me; the same feeling as last night, only deeper, heavier. My heart rate increased, my mouth became dry, voices echoed and merged. I was sleepy, nauseous and dizzy. I closed my eyes, dropped my head and tried to slow the spinning carousel. When I opened my eyes again, waiting for the room to refocus, Aiden came into clarity. His stare was fixed upon me, intense and steely. I looked away as he addressed the others, ‘Let’s get something to eat then.’

  The sounds outside were louder, the sun hotter, the sights more chaotic and the smells more overpowering. I kept close to the others. Faces stared and scared me, my heart hammered in my head. Aiden glanced over and smiled, seeing the discomfort in my face and fear in my eyes. I relaxed only when we took our seats in the thali house. Parathas were served – fried unleavened bread packed with chopped potatoes and cumin. I couldn’t eat much. It wasn’t something I would usually choose and my stomach was on the delicate side. Instead, I sipped chai from a glass and stared out to the street below. My thoughts were shattered by Aiden’s voice, ‘We’re going shopping. You go back to the hotel, Sam. You don’t look well.’

  ‘He looks all right to me,’ Justin said as he paid his bill. ‘You can come with us if you want, mate.’

  The thought of Aiden’s increasingly odd behaviour did nothing to entice me. I thanked him, but said I would go back to the hotel.

  Jack stood and stretched, ‘I’m gonna stay behind too, catch forty winks.’

  In the hotel room, Jack made up a chillum, ‘Has India got any easier by hanging out with us?’

  ‘Yeah, I think it has. It’s interesting to see how you guys interact with the locals. It’s teaching us a lot.’

  ‘We were just like you two when we first arrived in Delhi, didn’t have a Scooby Doo, mate.’ He passed the pipe, ‘Got proper ripped off. But we soon learnt and bit by bit things got better.’

  ‘India’s got a steep learning curve, eh?’

  ‘You’re not wrong, mate. So, what’s up with Aiden then? He seems a bit off with you.’ Jack took the chillum from me and prepared for another round.

  ‘I’m not really sure. We were the best of friends before we came out here, but since we arrived he's become increasingly hostile, especially when we're around other people. At first I put it down to the lack of a smoke or a beer. But since he’s had a smoke, he’s got worse if anything.’

  ‘This place can do funny things to people. It can bring out the best and the worst in folk. Aiden’s a little insecure I think and perhaps India isn’t what he thought it’d be. He’s probably trying to prove himself in front of us.’

  It felt good to have someone neutral seeing things from an outside perspective and gave me hope that Aiden was simply adjusting and we'd be back to normal again soon. Jack smoked the last of the chillum and leant back against the wall, ‘Have you got an alarm of some sort? My watch drowned in Goa.’ I pointed to my clock. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered with this heat. Set the alarm for three and if you like, we’ll pop out later to Connaught Place.’

  A nasty throbbing in my head woke me before the alarm did. The ringing of the clock a few minutes later only intensified the pain. Jack awoke and noticed my head held in my hands, ‘You okay, mate?’

  ‘I’ve woken up with a splitting headache.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you drink much today and when I have, it’s been either fizzy drinks or tea. You should always carry a bottle of water around with you. This heat can be a real killer; you need to keep hydrated. You won’t last long if you don’t.’ He went to his backpack, found a small medicine bottle and threw it over to me and handed me an unopened bottle of water, ‘Take two of those pills and sip some of this water. Give yourself twenty minutes and you’ll be as right as rain. Don’t rely on the tablets though, keep those fluids up.’

  The Main Bazaar was dense, even more so than usual. We could hardly move. Hooters were honking, bells were ringing, the air swelled with thousands of excited voices. Somewhere a trumpet played hopelessly out of tune, cymbals crashed and a base drum boomed. Jack and I squeezed our way to the end of the street and were carried by the crowd onto the main road at the mercy of a procession. The root of all the excitement seemed to emanate from an elaborate god adorned with orange garlands and gold necklaces that was carried on the shoulders of four men. There was no interest in our faces now, all eyes were focused on the cynosure. Pilgrims chanted, threw petals and placed offerings at the idol’s feet. The more we tried to break away, the more we were entangled in the human jungle. It was becoming impossible to breathe with so many sweating bodies pressed up against us. As the road widened and the ceremony dispersed, we took the opportunity to slip the net.

  We sat on a wall and took a minute to compose ourselves. Thankful of Jack’s advice, I sipped from the bottle of water I'd brought with me. ‘See mate, I told you the water would come in handy,’ he said and drank from his own. ‘You never know what’s going to happen in India from one moment to the next. It was a bit intense, huh?’

  ‘I thought we were never going to get out. It was quite exciting though.’

/>   ‘You get quite a few religious festivals in India. They can be a lot of fun, but can be dangerous too, hundreds die each year from stampedes.’ I could well believe it. I’d never felt such claustrophobia. ‘Watch from a distance if you can.’ He pointed to a group of men across the road, ‘There's some rickshaw wallahs over there. Shall we grab one?’

  We began walking. ‘Okay, but what’s a wallah?’

  ‘A wallah is a person who provides a service, for example: paan wallah, chai wallah, dhobi wallah and in this case, rickshaw wallah.’

  ‘And what about these skirts I see guys wearing?' I pointed at two rickshaw wallahs.

  Jack chuckled, ‘That’s a lungi, mate. I’ve got one. Wore it all the time in Goa. It beats trousers in this heat.'

  A cycle-rickshaw wallah fanned himself with a newspaper as he spoke to his colleagues. He was quick to dismiss them when he saw us. He tapped the back seat of his tricycle, ‘Yes, come.’

  Jack put his arm across me to prevent me from boarding, ‘How much to Connaught Place?’

  ‘One hundred rupees.’

  Jack giggled, ‘Don’t make me laugh.’ He nudged me, ‘Come on Sam, we can do better than this.’ We started to walk away.

  The wallah tagged along behind us, ‘Okay, how much you pay?’

  ‘Ten rupees,’ Jack said without turning.

  The driver chuckled, ‘Now you are making me laugh, sahib.’ He skirted around to the front of us and stopped us in our tracks, ‘Sixty rupees, and I am giving you very best offer.’

  Jack raised, ‘Twelve.’

  ‘Okay, forty rupees. Come.’ He walked back the way he came.

  ‘Twenty and we’re right behind you.’

  ‘Okay, okay, twenty, come.’

  We settled in and pulled away. ‘You're really good at this,’ I said to Jack.

  ‘Don’t tell me, let me guess, you’ve never agreed a price before you’ve set off? How have you guys got any money left?’ he laughed. ‘Always agree a cost before you set off. Be fair and don’t rip them off, but don’t let them rip you off either. Start low and meet them at a reasonable price. It's good to know roughly how far away things are, so you can judge the distance in accordance to the fare.’

  ‘What’s Connaught Place?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s one of the most vibrant commercial districts in Delhi. It was built in the early 1900s by the British and is constructed into three circles. The outer and inner circles contain residential properties, businesses and retail establishments and the central section is made up of parkland where anybody can enjoy a picnic, read a book or even play a spot of cricket. The Indians love their cricket.’

  ‘Cricket you like?’ The rickshaw wallah called out above the noise of the traffic.

  ‘Yes mate,’ Jack yelled back. ‘England to win, eh?’

  The wallah laughed, ‘Never against India, my friend.’

  The brakes of the rickshaw squealed to a halt and we paid the agreed fare. Jack led the way around the outer avenue lined with large white columns where people sold a variety of goods on the pavements. Men grumbled over games of chess while wives gossiped in the background. Children played hide and seek around parked cars with frustrated security guards. High fashion stores and luxury brands tempted passing socialites and the cream of the city. We stopped outside a Wimpy burger restaurant. Jack opened the door, ‘Milkshake?’

  There were no actual beef burgers on the menu. 'The cow is sacred in India, Hindus don't eat beef,' Jack reminded me. Instead, we settled for spicy bean burgers and strawberry shakes. We took our meal into the central park area and laid back, relaxing on the trimmed lawn. It was at last beginning to feel like a vacation.

  An auto ride in the fading light brought us back to the hotel where Aiden and the others were talking over a few chillums in our room. ‘What have you guys been up to?’ Jack asked, receiving a smoke.

  ‘Old Delhi, Chandni Chowk,’ Paul replied. ‘Went shopping, bought a few chillums for the loved ones back home. What about you guys?’

  ‘Grabbed a couple of burgers and sat out in the park at Connaught Place,’ Jack passed the chillum to me. ‘Did you get caught up in that procession earlier in Paharganj?’

  ‘Can’t say we did, mate. Were there a lot of people?’

  As Jack was about to answer, the lights went out and the air-cooler died.

  ‘Bloody power cuts,’ Glen said. ‘No use going out, won't be able to see a thing on the streets. Just have to sit it out here and hope it doesn't go on too long. I'm already sweating like mad.’

  ‘I know where we could go,’ I said as I fumbled for the door handle. ‘Guys, follow me.’ Intrigued, everyone stood except Aiden, who remained seated. ‘Aren't you coming?’

  His face radiated in an orange glow as he drew on a cigarette, ‘No, I'm fine here.’

  Glen went over and reached out his hand, ‘Come on mate, I want to talk to you both about something.’ Aiden reluctantly got up and followed behind.

  Up on the roof, working by dim torchlight, Harish stopped what he was doing and invited us to sit, ‘Please come, I will be making chai for us all,’ he said and put Nitin and Rajeev to work.

  I introduced my friends, ‘And finally, Aiden.’ Aiden turned his back without acknowledgement and looked over the edge of the roof in silence much to my chagrin.

  We settled down and Glen addressed Aiden and me, ‘We were having a chat about where you two should go next and came up with Naini Tal. It’s a little hill station town with a beautiful lake tucked away in the Kumaon foothills. It’s about three hundred kilometres east of here. It'll give you guys a chance to relax away from the bustle of Delhi.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Aiden added.

  ‘Right then, that’s that sorted. We’ll search around for some tickets tomorrow,’ Glen concluded.

  Nitin approached Aiden and tapped him on the shoulder, ‘Get your bloody hands off me,’ Aiden blasted and shoved him aside so hard he nearly lost his balance. None of us quite understood what had just happened.

  ‘Christ, what’s got into you, Aiden?’ Jack barked and walked over to Nitin. ‘Are you alright, mate?’ Nitin waggled his head and smiled. He placed his fingers to his lips to gesture an invisible cigarette. ‘Of course, no worries,’ Jack said and handed him his pack. Nitin removed two; one he lit, the other he propped behind his ear for later.

  Harish pointed a torch at a bamboo ladder, inviting us to make ourselves comfortable on the higher level. We sat down as Nitin and Rajeev served the tea. Harish, the only one standing, looked out to the city, ‘Yes, very good time with no power. Much dark, very good time indeed.’

  Paharganj was shrouded in darkness, less a few glimmers of temporary lighting and vehicle headlights. In the streets below, voices interspersed with the sounds of beeping and dogs barking. Aiden stood to leave, ‘I’d rather be in our room than stuck up here. There’s not much point sitting around in the dark doing nothing. It’s all a bit shit if you ask me.’ He stepped down to the top rung of the ladder and as he did so a crack of distant thunder startled him and made him lose his footing. Nitin, who was closest, shot to his feet and grabbed hold of Aiden's arm as he was about to fall. Regaining himself, he mumbled something to Nitin in the way of thanks and sat down again, silently watching silver veins strobe the city skyline in the distance.

  6

  Recurring gurgling and vicious cramps in my stomach had me tossing and turning as I searched for sleep. I tiptoed over Alan and Paul to the bathroom and closed the door behind me as quietly as I could. I knelt on all fours with my head hung over the latrine. The stench crept up into my nostrils, reaching inside and yanking out everything I’d consumed in the last twenty-four hours. Exhausted and drenched in sweat, I fell to one side in a shivering heap. After what seemed like hours, but couldn't have been more than five minutes, I used the sink as leverage and pulled myself up to catch my reflection in the mirror. I looked haggard, just as I felt. I splashed water on my face an
d filled the bucket to wash the toilet, but a sharp pain in my stomach had me winded with an unstoppable engagement to the keyhole again, this time due south. Afterwards, I sat shaking with my back to the tiled wall. When certain nothing was left, I showered and crumpled into bed.

  The next time I woke I found the room empty aside from Jack sorting through items from his backpack. He glanced up as I got out of bed, ‘Hello mate, sleep well?’ he asked.

  I gave him a run-down of the night’s bathroom events, ‘I’ve been feeling a bit odd for a couple of days now, but nothing near as bad as last night.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve got a touch of Delhi Belly, and where better to get it, eh?’ He laughed and put the last of his things into the top of his pack, paused for a moment as if searching his memory and then clipped the top shut. ‘What did you eat before we came along?’

  ‘Vegetable curries, omelettes, jam on toast, club sandwiches.’ I felt queasy just at the thought of it all.

  ‘In those club sandwiches, was there any meat? And those lassis you’re so fond of, any ice?’

  ‘Ice in the lassi and ham in the sandwiches.’

  ‘Mystery solved then.’ He opened a side pocket of his backpack and found a half empty strip of red pills, ‘Take two and we’ll get some more when we’re out.’ I washed the tablets down with some water. ‘Try your best to avoid eating meat. Refrigeration and sanitation are not high on the agenda in a lot of places. Also, watch what you drink. Ice is usually frozen from local water and our western stomachs aren’t up to the challenge. Keep your hands clean and fingernails short, and whatever you do, don’t bite them. Doing all this will help, but you can’t do everything. You will get ill and you will get used to it. Most common is diarrhoea, it wipes out thousands in India each year. Just keep drinking water to replace lost fluids.’ He bent down and looked under the bed and then under the other bed, ‘Also, only eat in clean places where there's a lot of other people eating, especially locals.’ He looked around the room mystified.

  ‘You lost something?’ I asked.