The Escape

Mane Omsy The Escape

A holiday Experience| 1



Special Thanks

Firstly, my heartiest thanks to my guides who guided me

to the way of knowledge, especially to my class teacher,

Mr. J.U. sir. My parents, sisters and brothers who

encouraged me since childhood. Friends, especially Ali

Mank, who joined my work and helped equally as a

brother. To my internet readers and guides who gave

me continuous inspiration and appreciated me in my

literary works.

My respectful seniors of my hostel, my lovable juniors

and best friends who gave me the ideas and values of

writing. Hope they get exact results and joy reading this.

To the publication who tried to reach this book to you.

Thanks to APLOMB, for giving me this opportunity to get to

a level and express my thoughts and views.



Prologue

‘When are you planning to go home tomorrow?’ I asked

Malik

He was reading Chetan Bhagat’s Half Girl friend and

seemed like I disturbed him. He looked angry. A sudden

face change, he smiled like a clown and said: ‘I’m taking

you to my home tomorrow noon, will you come? We can

rock the holiday there’

I was confused because I have just called my uncle that

I’ll go this vacation to my granny’s house. He is silly but

rude at some times. Perhaps, I can handle the situation

even if he scolds me. I thought for a while and nodded.

‘We can go through Cali’ I said.

‘Are you mad or something? It’s your dream, right?’ he

stared at me.

‘I mean Cali-cut. I don’t wanna cut the Cali any way’ I

said and grabbed his phone to call my dad.

*****



‘Are you ready?’

‘Wait a minute’

‘Come on. There’s no time to waste’

‘You go down stairs. I’ll be there in five minutes’

‘Oh! Now its five’ Malik said exhausted.

We’ve planned to enjoy this monthly leave for our

hostel in my buddy’s house. Malik, his parents are

abroad, in UAE, and lives alone in his house at Tirur. His

house construction is still going on but we could manage

it however. I grabbed my wallet and backpack, put it

back on my shoulders and shrugged, then ran down the

stairs of the three storey hostel building to reach him. He

was waiting so patiently walking here and there in front

of the main entrance like a beast waiting for a man up a

tree.

‘Sorry, I’m late’ I apologized.

‘It’s been ten minutes. You’re a careless creature’ he

cursed me several times as we both walked to the NH

road. He was dressed up well in a white Kurti, blue jeans

and red sneakers, his specs large enough for his nose

to bear. An Auto-rickshaw slowed down beside us and

we got in it and it took us to the bus station. The Auto-

rickshaws, why couldn’t the government change these

kinds of vehicles as taxis to car or something? Isn’t this

a developing country? I think Mr. Modi have not thought



about it yet. We got on a bus to Calicut. This wasn’t

strange but the girls at the bus stations seemed like

swarms of butterflies. I took the seat beside the window

so as to watch them. Malik went out to buy some snacks

and soft drinks leaving his 64GB Apple iPod with me. I

took out my ear phone and drilled it in to my ears playing

Chris Brown Yeah 3x. Move your body out on the floor,

put your troubles aside and start leaving…. There were

pink, blue, black and more than a dozen of school

uniforms waiting for their buses. As a habit, it is always

like this, when I travel somewhere, I used to hear music

and a journey without music will be like a sandwich

without sausages. I’d rather sleep or watch outside for

pretty girls. Malik came back with the food and the bus

started moving. He bought a Pepsi and a honey snack,

unexpectedly a news paper too. There were many

people on the bus, but as Chris started singing, I ignored

them. I gazed out side and looked for lil’ mamas.

*****



Cali’ Bus Station



You never miss a good thing until it’s gone, I want it all,

and I want it all back…. I woke up from the sleep still the

music was playing and Chris wasn’t tired. I stopped the

music player and saw so many buses and taxis rushing

here and there. It was the bus station and we waited for

the bus to stop breathing its diesel. Chris was not tired

even after his Las Vegas prison for 108 days. No matter

how super stars get in to trouble and they are very close

to it. They are crazy at moments.

‘You have been cheating people for months, we know

much about you’, an adult voice clashed my thoughts. I

turned back to see what’s happening. Our Pepsi was

empty and Malik threw it on the way. A crowd gathered

outside the back door. Is there something strange out

here?

‘Hah, don’t teach me my work. I know it well’, the bus

conductor argued back.

He wore Khaki uniform and simple specs. The shouter

was a medium young looking man with thick moustache

and shaved beard. He looked like a High School

teacher. There were some people behind him as

supporters.

‘Give me the change or this bus will not take a move

forward. You must keep the changes with you, you are

responsible for that.’ The man advised the conductor but

it doesn’t seem quite tasty for the Khaki.



‘I know how to maintain my career, I don’t need to keep

changes for fools like you’ the conductor with his rude

voice intruded back.

‘Watch your words, if you want to go home well’ another

man behind him threatened.

‘Let him the cash or the change, there are many

passengers in this bus, please do not make a mess’ an

intruder pleaded. The conductor, for a while, took a deep

breath giving the money back to the first person.

‘Why this man is crying for a single 10 bucks note? He

could have asked me, poor beggar’ the plead person

astonished.

We got out from the bus and waved for an Auto-

rickshaw to the Rail way station. The dusts on the way

scared me for it could cause cold. I was starving for

food, the Pepsi didn’t reach anywhere in my stomach.

‘I’m hungry. Let’s have a drink from here.’ I said and

Malik look straight through my eyes and retina to my

brain. Seemed like he understood I was ruining him.

‘We can have, but no luxury!’

We went to a cool bar and ordered for two chocolate

milk shakes. I showed an I-will-come-now sign and went

to a mobile shop to recharge my cell phone and added

internet. We had our drinks and walked back to station,

booked our tickets and sat on a bench beside a TV. A



train suddenly hooked our view on to it far away and I

could the mirage evaporating the engine.

‘Which train is ours?’ I asked.

‘This is Janashadapdi Express, we’re not on this one,

any way let’s get inside’

We got in to the chair car which already was vacant.

Stink inside the compartment felt like hell with buffalo

shits. ‘What if the T.T.R comes’ I asked.

‘We should pay fine until our pockets become cigar fall.

No problem hope he won’t come. I usually get inside

here. Its vacant and nobody cares.’ He said and threw

his bag to a corner seat. I slowly hurried to a window

seat and anchored, took my headsets and drilled again.

*****



Tirur

After a half an hour, the train stopped at Tirur Station

and we got out, walked straight to the bus station. It was

so close to the rail way. On the way, there were many

street dogs messing around the rails. The cleanliness of

Indian railway could be seen accurately from these kinds

of places. Malik pointed me a place under a

constructional building and said: ‘This is where I saw a

dead man firstly in my whole life.’

‘What happened to him?’ I asked.

‘Don’t know, but might be a suicide or else the police

won’t be looking up wards. He was semi-naked’ He

shrugged and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders. I

looked keenly at the place as if like an investigator.

‘Why don’t you ask the cops?’ I doubted.

‘I was in a hurry; I just stayed a little and passed’.

We dropped the suicide issue there and passed through

a tiny tunnel to a street of whole sale market, leading till

the bus station. The tunnel was completely gummed

with hundreds of movie posters. Semi-naked girls

projecting their body parts could probably be the main

reason for women raping and kidnapping. Why don’t

these feminists realize this fact? They should’ve advised

them girls firstly for their safety and security.

‘Hey, you said Malappuram has the best roads and what

we got here?’ I asked him reaching the bus station



seeing the whole pits and holes in the tarred road inside

the station. In a flash, one may say they were swimming

pools made exclusively for street dogs and animals. The

‘rain-water-collectors’ are rare Malappuram though.

‘You didn’t see the actual Malappuram cities, this just

accidently stopped working since the rain’. Even though

I agreed it, he kept arguing as we moved on to a bus

and got in. A dozen fairies were standing near the bus. I

didn’t see the steps but kept looking on to the beautiful

eyes of a sweet Cinderella. Suddenly, Malik pulled me in

to the bus.

*****

The fresh air of nature and the smell of moisture blew

through my head. It cheered me up. It rained before and

now it’s cold outside. The greenery made me proud of

the Malabar’s care for natural vegetation. I really loved

to stay out, lay on the grass for hours inhaling the

smelling it deeply through my lungs to the nerves. It had

actually caught my mind and it pleased me very much.

Rain drops started tripping on my face, flowing down to

my lips, then drop down to my pants. I slowly shut the

windows.

The sun started giving up when I opened it. I heard

the calls from several mosques we passed. As the bus

moved faster the breeze became colder. I made some

new lines for a poem and quoted it in my cell phone.

Soon, we reached our destination when it was dark.



There was only a single grocery lit the lamp and we

could see the street lights are rare in this little village-

cum-town. Kanmana, the name felt like same to banana

or something. Calmly, we walked to his house. It is a

little far away from our destination, almost 2 kilo meters.

There is a small field to pass through and a place

historically under the hands of a Jenmi, now, captured

by the people. The poor people actually strike against

the Jenmi and then, unfortunately, he had to give up.

The field was so beautiful. The vast green farm field

represented the true greenery of Kerala. The breeze

took my soul with it. I captured some pictures and selfies

of me and Malik in front of it. There were many cows

roaming around the fields and cranes landed on the

bottom to have their prey. The nightingales and the

sparrows began chirping as the sky turned orange. I

thought, they started to pray to God, and when will man

study from the nature?

The orange- turned-black-sky frightened me well as

he told there used to be snakes on the way and instead

of walking gently, we went on smoothly. ‘Hamid... What?

Are you afraid of snakes? I just fooled you nah?’ he said

and laughed when I used an F-word and moved on to

him for a punch. We were up to reach his house, a two

floored paint less house under construction. He grabbed

my back pack and said as we reached the front gate:

‘Go upstairs and get changed. We’ve to go to the market

and recharge the TV connection.’ Then, giving me the



1st floor keys, he went to the kitchen to make some tea.

My bladder was jammed and I hurried to the toilet and

pissed off. I saw no big deal with his toilet or room, but

amazed seeing the worms and fungus playing inside a

bucket half filled with water. I came across it, leaned the

bucket and splashed out the complete worms in to the

dungeon. He kept all our belongings aside a computer

desk and cleaned the room. The blanket became a fire

extinguisher as he threw it down. The dust flew in the air

freely and filled the room like a micro oven being

damaged. A television was on the top of another desk

with a chorus of speakers and DVD players.

‘Hey bro, is HBO channel working?’ I asked with

enthusiasm.

‘Wait until we recharge it’ he calmed me down.

‘I got an Activa from the neighborhood; we can go to the

market now. Have a bath quickly.’ He continued as I

returned to the bathroom. I could hear my body spray

being sprayed all over the blanket.

‘Don’t finish it. Stop it’ I shouted from the bathroom.

*****

It was 9 pm. I could hear the cricket creek their tails

each other and the frog croak in the dark. I wore a

Bermuda and a T-shirt with Bob Marley on my chest.

Malik was in his same old jeans and a new jersey. I took

my wallet and jumped behind him on the bike. It started



smoothly and there goes as a wild hyena. We forgot to

take an Umbrella and the way was still wet, the cloud

thick so as it will rain sooner. I hope it would not rain

midst our way. The headlight spread over the road made

with pebbles and machine stones. My sneakers were

white and I afraid it could be black while retuning. The

Activa drove us crazy with gutters and sudden brakes. It

hurt my buttocks.

We reached the town as it started raining and

quickly we got in to a restaurant. The Airtel office was

near that and we went in. We saw no officers but then a

lady in a yellow salwar kameez came and smiled at us.

We recharged our Airtel dish and went to the restaurant,

bought porottas, beef curry and a dozen Maggi noodles.

The ugly atmosphere and the stink around the streets

made me feel vomit. The street dogs wandered all over

the city like they owned it.

We were driving back through the NH road racing a

Swift to get over it. All of a sudden, the swift hit a Wagon

R not much forcefully but in a speed of 40km/h. Malik

suddenly braked down and parked aside. We hoped no

one could get hurt, it was the middle of a night and we

could see no helpers or vehicles passing us. Rain

returned as well, worsening the situation and we popped

out of the bike hurrying to the cars. There were two

children and a lady at the back seat of the Swift and two

adults at the front. And the Wagon R consisted of a

single old man. None of them were hurt, though it hit



hardly so anyone a mile away could hear it. I’ve been an

eye-witness for the second road accident in my whole

life. Firstly, it was at the Sheikh Zayed road in Dubai. I

saw a man hit roughly by a Nissan Patrol and it took him

over it to the back, his head hitting the rubberized road

but it didn’t feel to him as rubber though. He was yelling

for water and no one could help him because an

accident in UAE cannot be controlled by the people. The

police came suddenly after he lay down unconsciously.

And after it, a mobile ICU came sprinting. Actually he

was a pedestrian trying to cross the 4 line road. His

head was completely washed with blood, the road

partially blood-pooled. The driver was still in a great

shock and he jumped out of his vehicle. When he saw

the man lying down bones cracked, his hanged his head

in worry and covered his face with his hands. He was

starting to cry. His heart beat would be beating faster

than the vehicles around. Later, the next day, I saw the

news paper that the person was dead. After then, a

walking bridge was made for the pedestrians there. It is

the nature of the governments that development will be

done after a purpose or incident. I imagined Kerala with

rarely constructed pedestrian walk way! At least they

could build good roads.

Both drivers got out slowly from their cars and

shouted each other. We were looking for injured people

inside, no one. Malik went close to them and spoke

friendly. The problem resolved after a half an hour

debate. The old man did no mistakes; the other driver



was in a conversation and suddenly forgot he was

driving. He gave him the compensation and they both

left. The sides of the bumper were damaged on both

vehicles. I looked at Malik as a lawyer standing in front

of me wet in the rain.

‘What the hell did you do?’ I amazed.

‘This is what is I am. Sometimes….’ He praised himself.

‘Don’t feel high yourself, let’s return. This is a bad night

for us. You are completely wet and I could see that

figure on your pants’ I intruded him. I realized his body

was shivering with cold. We returned as fast as we

could. I blamed him for wasting time for them.

*****

‘How was yesterday night?’ he said sipping a noodle

from the bowl. We were watching Asianet Plus movies; I

hated most Malayalam movies anyway.

‘Terrible’ I snatched away the remote controller from him

and tuned the channel to HBO. Brad Pitt was kissing

Angelina Jolie. Yuk! I tuned again to Star movies. The

Zoo Keeper movie calmed us down with its comedies. I

didn’t like to stay long staring at the television without

any enjoyment. I turned to Malik; he was licking the

bowl; I gave mine.

‘What?’ he asked; mouthful of Maggis.

‘It’s so boring, I want a change to this holiday’ I said and

stood up walking downstairs to make coffee.



‘Want some?’ I asked as I came back with a large jar

and two cups.

He nodded.

‘Hey, there’s a match tomorrow morning at 9. Let’s go

there’ he said.

‘What match?’

‘Cricket’

‘Nah! I don’t like cricket’

‘Any way come with me, we can have some fun. OK?

Tomorrow 9am’

It has become midnight and we felt so tired, Malik

yawned for a while and jumped to the bed; slept. I

looked at the clock, 12am sharp. The movie wasn’t over,

I watched and fall asleep.

*****



Caught!

The Activa drove through the drive way to the stadium.

The way was so clear and clean. Sugar cane drinks

were sold under a huge banyan tree. There were three

people waiting for their drink and a dog sniffing around

to fill its belly. The road was little rush because officers

and shop keepers were in a hurry to begin their

collection and works. We didn’t have helmets nor did

Malik have a license. Always in alert of the cops and he

didn’t have the courage to speed up in front of them. We

drove by a roundabout near a fountain and,

unfortunately, met with a crew of cops; beside them, a

control room. One of them signaled us to stop, we

braked down. Malik’s hands were shivering, well

concerned about the license and helmets. I was unable

to count my heart beats.

I pushed Malik’s elbows saying ‘Go, Go. Don’t let them

catch us’.

‘They will chase us, please calm down. It could be more

dangerous.’ He consoled me.

I knew he was totally afraid; the cop arrived and looked

at us in a suspicious way. He took some cards from his

pocket; actually they were some photos of some

bullshits. He asked showing us a photo.

‘Do you know this person?’ It showed a dark brown

complexion, average 25, grown up man with round face



and curvy hair, with a French beard. Seemed like a

burglar or a don.

‘Do you know or not?’ he raised his voice, now to me.

‘No, No we don’t.’ I stammered.

‘Come with me. You guys have something in it’. This

was really my fault. I don’t have to stammer or look on

that dark devil. Now we have been suspects of an

unknown crime.

‘We are sorry, Sir. We came here to see a match.’ Malik

said as if he had done something strange. I felt the

stadium better than the police station. His words were of

no values. A constable took care of our Activa and we

got in back of the control room. Many ladies and fairies

were watching these two unknown suspicious persons

being arrested by some genius cops.

‘The fuck you planned all these shits are ruined and I

lost my peaceful movie watching and here no body’s

gonna hurt us like this bullshit.’ I murmured angrily;

grunted, actually.

‘Calm down. Nothing’s gonna happen to us. It’s just a

suspicion. We didn’t do anything wrong.’ He consoled

me.

We were just about to reach the station; I heard them

talk. ‘It’s so strange and shameful to send children to

such kind of business.’ The cop next to the driver said.

‘What will we do with these fellows?’ the driver asked.



‘Let the S.I. talk to them’. A ‘talk’, used by cops usually

meant the physical talk. They rarely investigate politely.

But why are the students sent to what business? The

Bolero stopped near the entrance of the Tirur police

station and we got outside. There was a beautiful

garden with lilies and roses. Daffodils at a corner with

several shapes and sizes seemed like a botanical

garden. Such beautiful garden should be everywhere in

the cities and towns. The sky was clear and the sun

shun bright. Two armed cops stood at the door face to

face and didn’t smile. A lady constable walked out of the

station. Everyone seemed so busy in their works.

S.I. Mani, a board beside a room said. The cops sent us

in.

‘We doubt these fellows are a part of the college drug

mafia.’ A cop said.

What the fuck am I hearing? I was totally relieved, at the

same time, confused what to say.

Mani stood up from his cushioned chair and sat on his

desk keeping his both palms on his right knee. He was

bald and looked sort of angry type with shaved chin. He

almost came near me and I saw his golden ring in his

hand as he held it to scratch his chin. ‘Hmm’ he buzzed

and went back to his chair. He took some files and stood

up to leave.

‘What happened, Sir?’ Malik embarrassed.



‘Wait here till I come back’ He patted my shoulders and

went outside the cabin. The garden from the S.I.’s was

very clear from here. There were a pile of files on the

table. And Gandhi was smiling at us on the wall

instantly. He could be mocking us seeing our trouble. I

prayed to God for a while. We talked each other for a

while and decided something.

*****



The Escape

Five or six cops were having tea when we stepped out

of S.I. Mani’s cabin. A young looking lady and an officer

were chatting outside the station; I could see them

quarrel on something. They hardly talked loud; it maybe

couple fights. I adjusted my collar and we both walked

swiftly outside the building; heart beating faster. The

officer who took our vehicle was standing beside a

cabinet. His lips were dark; a professional smoker. I

thought of asking him the keys, but Malik forced me out.

The cursing to couples glared at us. I smiled at the

officer.

‘What did the inspector told you’ he asked with a rough

voice.

‘Nothing, he just went outside leaving us. And we….

Thought about a walk through this beautiful garden’ I

said much consciously.

‘Hah… this garden is made by guys like you’ he said

and laughed. ‘Hmm… you can go’

‘Thank you, Sir’ Malik said.

‘Why the fuck did you thank him, that idiot. He doesn’t

support us. He doesn’t deserve it.’ I said as walked pass

the daffodils. The police station is about 50 cents, and

the garden will probably be around its quarter. As we

walked back, we noticed our bike parked and the key

was on it. The officer must have forgotten to take it. We



suddenly rushed to it. I looked the surroundings, the

couples were gone, and no sign of police men watching

us; the control room was not there.

‘Let’s go, hurry up’ Malik said and started the engine.

‘Why? What if they track us?’ I asked embarrassed.

‘They didn’t even ask our names yet’ He said turning the

Activa around and I jumped back of it rolling up the

wheels through the gate. No one could have known our

escape. But, soon as we got out, an officer asked us the

license.

‘I’m sorry, Sir. We are just out of prison’ Malik said. He

gave a sudden symbol for us to leave.

No matter how frightened I was, but it was the great

mistake I have ever done in my life. The atmosphere

was cold, but hardly noon. We thought of a drink, and

quickly bought some food and drinks to home. We didn’t

talk too much in that ride.

‘Where were you both?’ Harris asked Malik as we

reached home. Harris is his uncle, mom’s younger

brother. He is known in Tirur. Everybody, including cops

and thieves know him. He was a both white complexion

and rural type of guy. He has a big brother too, Yasir. He

is kind of a stout but genius man.

‘We just went out for a ride and caught by the police.’

Malik said honestly.



‘What the…?’ he searched for a better bad word and

said politely ‘hell happened to you guys?’ He kept

walking us to the upstairs as we explained what

happened.

‘Okey dokey, so are two criminals!’ He smirked and lay

on the bed.

‘Hell, you gotta save us from this m****f***ing bullshit’

Malik nagged, but friendly.

‘I can handle this; you guys don’t get the hell outa here

until you go back to your hostel. Understood… hah??’

He ordered us like a lieutenant.

‘Deal’, we agreed.

It felt like a nightmare, and we were inside for a couple

of days until it was the time to set out back. I received a

face book message:

Hi, are you there? fine? Know me?

I found myself shocked; can’t recognize the profile.

‘Do you get this number?’ I asked Malik as Harris

stepped out of the room.

+91 9946 43 83 20

I’ve searched the sender’s mobile number, never

seemed known to us.

‘No! Who is it?’ Malik confused.



‘I don’t know’ I replied. ‘Could it be someone who

watched us getting of the station? Oh, shit…..’ I paused

as I knew the sender was a female. He looked at it

‘Angela, born 1997’.

I decided to text her back, but Malik said: ‘Please no. It

could be a fake ID. Let’s leave it there. We… are…

now… worried about this fucking police shit and don’t

need any women business. Ok?’ He was truly shocked

by this incident itself. I didn’t reply her. I don’t know

where she is now.

*****

Back

Two days have passed and there was no sign of cops

searching for us. I predicted that the cops might have

forgotten us. In a case of reveling, we have to, now, get

back to our hostel.

We were ready to set out. Harris was waiting us outside

with his Renault Duster. He bought it two years ago. It

was red in color and had an extra bumper in front of it.

Malik locked the front door of the house and came

through the kitchen locking its grills too. The surrounding

was very wet due to rain. Water clotted at places helping

mosquitoes to grow; a good natural conservation

though.

It was raining slowly and made its stage to a harder

level. I watched the surroundings and as we were in the



back seat, we ducked whenever we saw a cop until we

made it to the Railway Station. The rain helped us to

fade away from them as it covered the whole glasses.

We waved our hands and I thanked Harris for the help

he did to us. We returned back to our hostel and after

that day, we heard that the actual suspects of the drug

mafia were caught and put to trial. I imagined; if we were

still in the prison until the real convicts fly away, we

would have been famous. This is the fault of our society.

Catch the thief or convict the witness.

The Escape

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Transcript of The Escape