Between Clay and Dust Read online

  When Tamami returned, Ustad Ramzi had retired to his room, the trainees had gone to their quarters, and Kabira had also left. Except for the old enclosure attendant, there was no one in the akhara. Standing there, Tamami felt lonelier and more powerless than he had ever felt in his life.

  Resolve

  Tamami came to the akhara an hour late one day. This happened again a few days later. Ustad Ramzi was told that Tamami had modified his old exercise regime. After a few weeks, at his own initiative, Tamami reduced it further. Then he began to come home late at night. He slept longer and showed up later and later for the morning exercises. He finished the training sessions early, too.

  It was whispered among the trainees that Tamami was taking drugs.

  One evening Tamami returned later than usual and went to sleep. The room was left unlatched from inside and the light was on. Unable to contain himself any longer, Ustad Ramzi searched the room and found a small paper packet that contained drug residue.

  This was grim confirmation of all the rumors that had been flying around. He felt more devastated than if he had found Tamami lying dead.

  The trainees noticed that Tamami took longer rests, then quit in the middle of the exercises. Ustad Ramzi saw pahalwans leaving the akhara whispering among themselves.

  One afternoon Tamami woke up late and went out. The trainees who were busily discussing these events in the courtyard silently dispersed when Ustad Ramzi stepped out of his quarters.

  Tamami had not yet returned to the akhara in the evening when Ustad Ramzi gave a lock to the attendant and asked him to lock the gate of the enclosure. After the gate was locked, he took the key from the attendant.

  “It shall remain locked tonight,” he said.

  The attendant looked puzzled and said, “Tamami has not returned yet.”

  “It shall remain locked tonight. It has been shut forever on Tamami. Tell him that when he comes,” Ustad Ramzi said, and retired to his room.

  A few trainees were in the enclosure when this exchange took place and they spread the word. Those who had retired to their quarters also came out. Seeing them congregate in the akhara, Ustad Ramzi came out of his room and said:

  “You have heard. The gate of the enclosure and the clay of the akhara are now closed to Tamami. If you see him, drive him away. These are your orders.”

  The trainees were too shocked to say anything.

  Ustad Ramzi’s distrust of Tamami had been finally vindicated with all its horror. He did not think of reproving Tamami this time. He had struggled alone to guard his creed, he had tried to stem the disintegration of his world, but he had been failed again by the one on whom all his hopes were pinned. In the horrid new development of Tamami’s addiction, he saw the portents of a complete collapse of all that he cherished. It had not taken him long to come to his decision to excommunicate Tamami.

  Tamami returned late at night and found the gate closed. As it always remained open, he pushed it to see if it had swung shut by itself. Realizing that it had been secured, he knocked. When nobody answered, he started banging on it. He called out the attendant’s name. The attendant woke up when Tamami began rattling the gate violently. He watched Ustad Ramzi’s window. There was no light in his room. Afraid of becoming a party to the brothers’ feud, he quietly crept away into the darkness. Tamami was now calling out loudly and angrily for the gate to be opened. When no one responded, he fell quiet.

  Ustad Ramzi heard Tamami shouting at the gate. He had not switched on the light in his room and was sitting on his bed in the darkness, still dressed. He did not move from his place.

  Hearing Tamami shouting, a few neighbors came out of their houses. In the light from the municipal lamp, they saw Tamami sitting on his haunches, leaning against the enclosure walls, with Kabira talking to him. Someone had called him from his house. Tamami began to shake his head vehemently when Kabira repeatedly asked him to come with him. But Kabira did not give up and eventually Tamami accompanied him to his house.

  ❖

  The following day Ustad Ramzi rose before anyone had gotten up and long before the trainees started arriving in the akhara. He performed his routine tasks with a lightness of body. When the first light of the morning appeared in the sky, Ustad Ramzi had his bath, said his prayers, filled the pitchers, and went out to tend his rose bushes in the cemetery. He asked the enclosure attendant to send Tamami’s belongings to Kabira’s house. Then he retired to his room and did not come out for the rest of the day.

  The next day was a Friday. In the afternoon there were few people in the akhara and it was quiet as usual. Ustad Ramzi had not spoken a word after his directions were given to the attendant, but the events of the past days had become known and generated much gossip. When he came out of his room to leave for the Friday prayers, Ustad Ramzi noticed more than a few trainees gathered together in the enclosure. They became quiet as he approached.

  Ustad Ramzi saw Tamami resting against the holy fig tree that stood near the gate. His legs were spread out and his back was turned towards the enclosure.

  Anger welled up inside Ustad Ramzi at the sight of him. He snatched up a lathi standing by the gate, and stepped menacingly towards Tamami.

  “Who let him in?” he shouted.

  Tamami, who had not yet seen him, slowly turned his head. His face was drenched with tears. Ustad Ramzi felt strangely weakened by the sight, but grimly he took possession of himself.

  “Get out!” Ustad Ramzi roared. “Get out!” he yelled once more and raised the lathi. At his words Tamami tried to move towards him and leaned on one of his arms to get up. Noticing that Tamami was still drugged Ustad Ramzi was filled with a blinding rage.

  As Tamami came crawling towards him, he hit him with the lathi. But Tamami managed to cling to his legs. He sobbed loudly, mumbling something. Ustad Ramzi did not hear anything his brother said, nor was he any longer conscious of what he said himself. He wrenched himself away with all his force and brought the lathi down again across Tamami’s back.

  Kabira threw himself over Tamami.

  “Enough, Ustad! Enough!” Kabira shouted. Ustad Ramzi stopped.

  “Get him out of here.” Ustad Ramzi gasped. “I will not have this filth defile the clay of this akhara.”

  “Ustad, he is your brother.”

  “I don’t wish to see his face again! Get him out this instant or I will kill him!”

  Kabira rose, looking darkly at Ustad Ramzi, who was almost out of breath. Kabira tried to help the sobbing Tamami to his feet. The enclosure attendant rushed out from his room to assist Kabira. A few trainees also stepped forward and accompanied Kabira and Tamami outside for a short distance until Kabira sent them back. When the trainees returned to the enclosure, Ustad Ramzi had already left for Friday prayers.

  Later that day the enclosure attendant took Tamami’s belongings to Kabira’s house.

  From that day, Kabira stopped coming to Ustad Ramzi’s akhara.

  Sinking

  At Kabira’s house, Tamami lapsed once again into addiction. Kabira told him he should fight for his right to live in the akhara. But for all his anger, Tamami did not question Ustad Ramzi’s right, as his elder, to turn him out of his own house. All he could think about was the manner in which he had been treated by his brother. Ustad Ramzi had neither accosted nor reprimanded him, but had just locked him out, like some unclean creature, without word or warning. When he had gone to ask for forgiveness, he had been beaten and chased away.

  That the ties between them could be so easily severed—and that there would be no attempt at a rapprochement by Ustad Ramzi—was something Tamami could neither understand nor bear. Only drugs brought him relief from his pain.

  Intermediary

  Days passed. It was rumored that Tamami was off drugs and Kabira had arranged for him to attend a makeshift akhara.

  Gulab Deen was in a lively mood when he came to see Us
tad Ramzi. He offered many apologies for not visiting earlier. He said it was not done out of disrespect, and enumerated many reasons for being held up.

  “Tell me Ustad,” he finally asked, “Why is Tamami not exercising in this akhara? Forgive my saying this, but there are no differences between two brothers that cannot be resolved.” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Tell me that I can count on your forgiving him if I were to bring Tamami to you. A treasure is wasting before my eyes, Ustad! A treasure!”

  Ustad Ramzi was infuriated by the promoter’s suggestion that he exercised some influence over his own brother. In his heart he had not yet renounced his right to make decisions about Tamami’s life.

  “I wish to have nothing to do with him,” he replied. “You can continue arranging fixed fights for him and making a living off it.”

  “As God is my witness, Ustad, it was a true fight!” Gulab Deen swore, kissed his fingers with reverence, and raised them to touch his eyes. “True as true! Sher Ali issued the challenge and Tamami accepted it. Fair as fair. I know of no fixing. Both men are hot-blooded and neither would agree to such a thing.”

  Gulab Deen once again denied knowledge of any wrongdoing in the fight between Tamami and Sher Ali. Then he got up and took his leave of Ustad Ramzi.

  ❖

  Everyone in the clan realized that, though Ustad Ramzi may have turned Tamami out in a fit of anger, it would grieve Ustad Ramzi if they ostracized his younger brother as well, for in the end there would be a rapprochement between the two. Besides, they admired Tamami’s talent and strength. When they learned that Tamami had started attending the makeshift akhara, they went there to assist him with his exercises and to spar with him.

  Tamami had cut down on his exercises. He stopped after just a few hundred leg-squats. But the trainees were still unable to throw him off his feet. His robust constitution continued to triumph over the adverse effects of addiction, even though he was still on drugs. Kabira often saw Gulab Deen take Tamami out in the evening. Since Tamami had no source of income, Kabira could guess where the drugs were coming from.

  A couple of days later Tamami told Kabira that he had appointed him his manager.

  “I have become your manager?” Kabira asked with some surprise.

  “Yes, Kabira,” Tamami confessed in an embarrassed tone.

  “And who appointed me? You?”

  “Yes. Gulab Deen asked me to appoint you my manager so that someone could take care of my affairs.”

  “Gulab Deen said that? Huh!” Kabira’s brow clouded over. There was something wrong with the way Gulab Deen was manipulating Tamami’s professional affairs. It made Kabira apprehensive. He decided to have a word with Gulab Deen.

  “Tamami will be fine once he sees that he does not need Ustad Ramzi to arrange his challenge fight,” Gulab Deen told Kabira. “He is still used to him making all his arrangements. You are his manager now. He trusts you and listens to you. Tell him that everything will be all right.”

  When Kabira brought up Tamami’s use of drugs, Gulab Deen looked at him in silence for a few moments. Then he spat out a shred of tobacco from his cigarette, and looked hard at Kabira with a strange gleam in his eyes.

  “If Tamami loses a fight he could always win in a challenge bout.”

  “Don’t say that again!” Kabira cut in angrily. “It is one thing for him to prolong an exhibition match. Throwing away a fight would destroy his name.”

  “You are right,” Gulab Deen said in a changed tone. “It will not do. We should ask Tamami to stop. He listens to you. First talk to him yourself. Then, if you need me, I will come with you and we’ll get our pahalwan to see the error of his ways.”

  Gulab Deen’s words had raised strange fears in Kabira’s mind, and he decided that he must go and see Ustad Ramzi to bring about a reconciliation between the brothers.

  When Kabira mentioned his intent to Tamami, his face brightened.

  Kabira was glad to see that.

  ❖

  A crisp wind was rustling the paling leaves on the branches of the banyan and holy fig trees. The sun was westering and its last light was falling on the gates of the akhara. Some trainees were arranging wooden planks outside the akhara and a few others were lying on wooden benches, having their bodies rubbed with mustard oil.

  Ustad Ramzi sat in his customary place by the side of the akhara. He shaded his eyes to see who was entering the enclosure. The others had recognized Kabira and stopped their activities. It was Kabira’s first visit since Ustad Ramzi had expelled Tamami from the akhara. The trainees regarded him inquisitively and when Kabira came up and greeted Ustad Ramzi, they drew nearer.

  Ustad Ramzi had a feeling that everyone in the akhara was watching him. He felt his throat contract. He softly returned Kabira’s greeting. Catching Ustad Ramzi’s uneasy glance, one of the trainees brought a chair for Kabira. Another brought glasses of sardai.

  Finally Kabira spoke: “Ustad, Tamami made a mistake. I have come to ask you to forgive him.”

  Ustad Ramzi was hardly looking at Kabira. He only heard the words. Now, more than ever, he felt the intense gaze of the trainees on him. He felt a sharp expectancy in them.

  “When did he become such a lord that he could not come himself…”

  “He will come. I will bring him, Ustad. He needs you,” Kabira said quickly and in one breath. “Forgive him!”

  “Forgive him for what?” Ustad Ramzi roared. “For befouling the akhara with his deeds, this place that five generations had kept pure?”

  As Kabira listened with his head bowed, Ustad Ramzi felt his resolve weakening. But he could feel the gaze of the trainees still riveted on him. It made him angry.

  “Why does he need my forgiveness?” he sneered. “He did not need me when he participated in the fixed bout and smeared his fathers’ honor. Now what does he need me for?”

  “He has a manager and a promoter now,” Ustad Ramzi’s voice trembled as he cast a glance at Kabira. “Souls find angels of their kind. Now all of you can win ever greater glories for yourselves.”

  Ustad Ramzi’s anger was spent. Kabira could have broken his defenses with another plea, but he maintained a respectful silence.

  The moment weighed heavily on Ustad Ramzi.

  “Why don’t you answer?” he shouted, more in irritation at the silence than to elicit a reply.

  A few trainees moved forward to console Ustad Ramzi. They took charge of the situation and turned on Kabira:

  “It would be best if you left now.”

  “Ustad has not forgiven Tamami. Take him that message. “

  “Why did he not come here himself? Now he need not bother.”

  Kabira quietly rose to his feet. Ustad Ramzi had turned his face away to master his feelings. Without speaking another word, Kabira left.

  “Get lost! Don’t show your face…I don’t wish to see his face again!” Ustad Ramzi shouted after him.

  ❖

  Tamami was sitting up on his charpai carefully tying the folds of his turban. He had taken a bath and dressed, in expectation of his reconciliation with Ustad Ramzi. Hearing Kabira’s footsteps he looked up, but the expression on Kabira’s face immediately told him that his visit to Ustad Ramzi had been unsuccessful. Tamami’s spirits sank.

  He felt helpless again. His fixation on the title had made him dependent on Ustad Ramzi’s acceptance of his life and actions. Even when he broke from him he did not break mentally from that relationship. Others, too, bound him to it. With Ustad Ramzi’s overpowering hold on the affairs of the clan and the akhara, Tamami was always advised that his hopes lay in seeking Ustad Ramzi’s forgiveness. The more Ustad Ramzi became distant, the more remote this possibility seemed to him. And when others saw how obsessed Tamami was with Ustad Ramzi’s acceptance, the more they felt Tamami needed to address his relationship with Ustad Ramzi.

  ❖

 
For the next few months, Tamami fought several pahalwans in exhibition matches. Most of these bouts ended in draws. Using Tamami, Gulab Deen began to advance his small group of pahalwans, of which Sher Ali was the most prominent. After his fight with Imama, which he had won on a technicality, Tamami was now considered a high-ranking pahalwan. When a pahalwan’s bout with Tamami ended in a tie, his rank advanced. Gradually, pahalwans who did not have the same experience or skill as Tamami were held to be his equals. The clan elders saw what was happening, but were unable to do anything about it.

  Soon, the crowds that came to see the fights grew impatient with Tamami’s draws. They were the people who had watched Tamami train for his fight with Imama. They had rooted for him, applauding and jumping to their feet every time he performed a clever maneuver, but were disappointed at Tamami’s winning so few of those bouts. When they saw that he did not use his advantages and gave the bouts away, they began heckling him. When even that did not bring about a change, they cheered Tamami’s rivals.

  Tamami’s visits to the akhara became irregular. It was rumored that he had had a falling out with Gulab Deen over the latter’s promoting Sher Ali at Tamami’s expense.

  One day the news came that the police had arrested Tamami on charges of drug possession. The next day it was heard that he had been released after Gulab Deen posted bail for him. It was rumored that the promoter had himself tipped off the police, to place Tamami in his debt financially. Nobody knew the truth, but after that incident, Gulab Deen was seen exercising greater control over Tamami. He had also arranged a three-bout match between Tamami and Sher Ali.

  ❖

  Gulab Deen came to see Tamami at a time when he knew Kabira would not be around. Tamami greeted him nonchalantly. His body was beginning to show the impact of his addiction more visibly. He had lost weight. His girth had decreased and dark rings had appeared around his eyes. Tamami hadn’t gone to the akhara again that day. He had been lying on the charpai since morning.