I was on my way back from Lahiri resorts in Pathancheru, where I had been a volunteer for GHAC’s Hyderabad Mudrun 2013. After two days of awesomeness, fatigue seemed to seep into my body as I had a tough time negotiating the potholes on the road back home. I needed a small jolt of adrenaline to keep me running, and nothing works better than exploring the unknown. So, looking for that evasive adrenaline, I took an unfamiliar right turn on to the service road of the ORR.
The next five kilometers was effortless cruising on the smooth tarmac, at speeds that would make my mom unhappy and my bike proud, came to an abrupt halt at Kodur junction where the service road ended into two kachcha roads.
After enquiring from a couple of villagers, decided to take a kachcha road that would take me into the city. Thereafter it was a blissful, slow bumpy ride for five more kilometers with fields on both sides and beautiful landscapes.
I stopped after I heard someone cry out. In the mango orchard on my right a couple of guys were beating up a small kid. I am not a hero, and not really built to fight but I am no coward either. I used the whistle attached to my hiking bag and ran towards them after locking my bike. Am not sure whether it was my heavy army-style trekking boots or the loud whistle, but the two guys took off leaving the bleeding kid, one of them dropping a small packet from his pocket.
The kid was around ten or eleven years old, bleeding from his mouth and forehead, and wincing in pain. I carried him back to my bike where I administered first aid. One of the few advantages of being a doctor is having an extensive First aid kit, apart from the knowledge of using it properly.
“Nee perenti?” I asked in telugu.”What is your name?”
“Telugu goththilla, naanu Kannadiga” he replied in crisp Kannada. “Ninn Hesarenu?” I asked again. (Thanks to my profession I had mastered all the south-Indian languages except for Malayalam.)
He told me that his name was Nandu. He was twelve years old, from a village in Bidar district of Karnataka. He knew no one in Hyderabad. I went back into the orchard and picked up the packet dropped by one of the guys who beat up Nandu, and immediately recognized what it was.
I drove to the city as soon as I could and got a chest X-ray done for the kid. The X-ray confirmed my suspicion of a couple of rib fractures. Knowing there was nothing much to be done there I took him home along with a few medicines I bought at the pharmacy there.
My dad saw me park through the window and shouted “Aah, at last you are home! Was really bored for two days!” My mom opened the door and said “you were supposed to be home three hours back! Oh, who is this? And what happened to him?"
I got Nandu comfortable in my bed and told my parents about the incidents that happened earlier, showing them the packet I found. My mom didn’t seem to know but my dad asked “Is that what I think it is?” I nodded my head.
In my hands was a packet of Ganja, or (For newbies - also called Weed, marijuana, or pot). My job at the de-addictioncenter, NIMHANS hospital told me that the packet I held was worth a good amount of money.
After sometime, I started a conversation with Nandu. He told me that he ran away from home a three months back, and came to Hyderabad. While trying to find work, he was spotted by a person called Seenu, who promised him a job and took him to his house. There he met a couple of other kids and Seenu’s friend Yusuf.
The job was simple. Nandu had to carry small packets of weed hidden in his clothes, in city busses to different places, where someone would collect them and send Nandu back to Seenu’s house.
Nandu was happy with the food and clothes Seenu gave him and everything seemed fine, until today when he lost a small packet while getting down a crowded city bus. Seenu and Yusuf, who refused to believe Nandu, were angry about the loss and started hitting him until they saw me approach blowing a whistle. I enquired about Nandu’s parents and called them up. Nandu’s tears of joy replaced his pain as he spoke to his dad for the first time in months.
Nandu’s father and uncle took my address and started for Hyderabad. I then enquired if Nandu could recognize Seenu’s house. He replied affirmatively saying as he was traveling in city busses, he knew exactly how to get back.
Letting him take rest, I left for the Narcotics cell at mehdipatnam. Though I was initially apprehensive about getting involved with the police, all my doubts were laid to rest with a friendly approach from Mr Sreedhar, a sub-inspector I met there. It was already late in the night but he accompanied me home and spoke to Nandu , while I played the interpreter. Mr. Sreedhar told me that he needed Nandu to lead them to Seenu’s house in the morning.
The next morning, I spoke to Nandu’s father who arrived, and explained to him about the Mr Sreedhar’s plans. Though he was initially reluctant, he agreed to send his son with us.
That evening, all the regional news channels were abuzz with the daring police operation which apprehended a gang involved in drug peddling and rescued five kids who were being used as drug couriers. The police also seized a huge stock of Ganja and other drugs from them. The same night, Nandu left for his home town with his father.
It has been four days since I took that unplanned right turn near the ORR. And my face lighted up when I picked up my phone today. Nandu was home, recovering and very happy. We spoke for a long time about Seenu and yusuf being arrested. Just before I cut the call, he told me to tell my father that he will fulfill his promise.
“Dad, Nandu was saying something about him fulfilling a promise. What was that all about?” I asked my father.
My father, who is an accomplished journalist, raised his head through the book he was reading and told me “It was nothing. He said he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and asked me how he could do that. I told him to always follow what his father told him and study well, and that's exactly what you did. He promised me He'd do that” and slipped back in to his reading.
The next five kilometers was effortless cruising on the smooth tarmac, at speeds that would make my mom unhappy and my bike proud, came to an abrupt halt at Kodur junction where the service road ended into two kachcha roads.
After enquiring from a couple of villagers, decided to take a kachcha road that would take me into the city. Thereafter it was a blissful, slow bumpy ride for five more kilometers with fields on both sides and beautiful landscapes.
I stopped after I heard someone cry out. In the mango orchard on my right a couple of guys were beating up a small kid. I am not a hero, and not really built to fight but I am no coward either. I used the whistle attached to my hiking bag and ran towards them after locking my bike. Am not sure whether it was my heavy army-style trekking boots or the loud whistle, but the two guys took off leaving the bleeding kid, one of them dropping a small packet from his pocket.
The kid was around ten or eleven years old, bleeding from his mouth and forehead, and wincing in pain. I carried him back to my bike where I administered first aid. One of the few advantages of being a doctor is having an extensive First aid kit, apart from the knowledge of using it properly.
“Nee perenti?” I asked in telugu.”What is your name?”
“Telugu goththilla, naanu Kannadiga” he replied in crisp Kannada. “Ninn Hesarenu?” I asked again. (Thanks to my profession I had mastered all the south-Indian languages except for Malayalam.)
He told me that his name was Nandu. He was twelve years old, from a village in Bidar district of Karnataka. He knew no one in Hyderabad. I went back into the orchard and picked up the packet dropped by one of the guys who beat up Nandu, and immediately recognized what it was.
I drove to the city as soon as I could and got a chest X-ray done for the kid. The X-ray confirmed my suspicion of a couple of rib fractures. Knowing there was nothing much to be done there I took him home along with a few medicines I bought at the pharmacy there.
My dad saw me park through the window and shouted “Aah, at last you are home! Was really bored for two days!” My mom opened the door and said “you were supposed to be home three hours back! Oh, who is this? And what happened to him?"
I got Nandu comfortable in my bed and told my parents about the incidents that happened earlier, showing them the packet I found. My mom didn’t seem to know but my dad asked “Is that what I think it is?” I nodded my head.
In my hands was a packet of Ganja, or (For newbies - also called Weed, marijuana, or pot). My job at the de-addictioncenter, NIMHANS hospital told me that the packet I held was worth a good amount of money.
After sometime, I started a conversation with Nandu. He told me that he ran away from home a three months back, and came to Hyderabad. While trying to find work, he was spotted by a person called Seenu, who promised him a job and took him to his house. There he met a couple of other kids and Seenu’s friend Yusuf.
The job was simple. Nandu had to carry small packets of weed hidden in his clothes, in city busses to different places, where someone would collect them and send Nandu back to Seenu’s house.
Nandu was happy with the food and clothes Seenu gave him and everything seemed fine, until today when he lost a small packet while getting down a crowded city bus. Seenu and Yusuf, who refused to believe Nandu, were angry about the loss and started hitting him until they saw me approach blowing a whistle. I enquired about Nandu’s parents and called them up. Nandu’s tears of joy replaced his pain as he spoke to his dad for the first time in months.
Nandu’s father and uncle took my address and started for Hyderabad. I then enquired if Nandu could recognize Seenu’s house. He replied affirmatively saying as he was traveling in city busses, he knew exactly how to get back.
Letting him take rest, I left for the Narcotics cell at mehdipatnam. Though I was initially apprehensive about getting involved with the police, all my doubts were laid to rest with a friendly approach from Mr Sreedhar, a sub-inspector I met there. It was already late in the night but he accompanied me home and spoke to Nandu , while I played the interpreter. Mr. Sreedhar told me that he needed Nandu to lead them to Seenu’s house in the morning.
The next morning, I spoke to Nandu’s father who arrived, and explained to him about the Mr Sreedhar’s plans. Though he was initially reluctant, he agreed to send his son with us.
That evening, all the regional news channels were abuzz with the daring police operation which apprehended a gang involved in drug peddling and rescued five kids who were being used as drug couriers. The police also seized a huge stock of Ganja and other drugs from them. The same night, Nandu left for his home town with his father.
It has been four days since I took that unplanned right turn near the ORR. And my face lighted up when I picked up my phone today. Nandu was home, recovering and very happy. We spoke for a long time about Seenu and yusuf being arrested. Just before I cut the call, he told me to tell my father that he will fulfill his promise.
“Dad, Nandu was saying something about him fulfilling a promise. What was that all about?” I asked my father.
My father, who is an accomplished journalist, raised his head through the book he was reading and told me “It was nothing. He said he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and asked me how he could do that. I told him to always follow what his father told him and study well, and that's exactly what you did. He promised me He'd do that” and slipped back in to his reading.
