Excerpt – Freedom Lost in Rights
The Shompen Complex
The vehicle took a kutcha road that led us deep inside the forest. On that roller-coaster ride, we had to end our discussion. My heart began to race. The forest was dark. The route amid the fig trees was a veritable tunnel, a near-perfect archway. It was almost as though the thickly wrapped creepers and prickly canes were suffocating the tall and stout fig trees. A desperate bid on the part of the civilised world to drive a wedge between the fig trees by constructing the route had failed utterly as the trees entwined with one another, forming an intimate canopy overhead. They had kept their age-old love intact. So tight was their embrace that even the sun’s rays could not penetrate it.
The route led us to an amphitheater where the vehicle stopped. We were surprised to see a building with urban embellishment in the deep forest. ‘Shompen Complex’ – read the billboard. The complex was well-fenced with an airtight security bandobast like a fortress. Three people came out as soon we reached the gate. They introduced themselves and offered us a warm reception. The trio – the caretaker, Johnson, Adhim Janajati Unnati Samiti General Secretary, Ranjan and Assistant Secretary, Perumol – helped us unload the poll materials and our bedding. They took our belongings to a room inside the building. Ranjan and Perumol were more agile than the rest of us at lifting the loads with mighty heaves. We were taken by surprise when we saw the rooms inside.
‘Why, the hulky bedding, mosquito nets, nails, and small ropes that we’ve carried along have been rendered useless. Who would have expected such a lavish abode in the deep forest of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands? It’s sheer luck!’ said Braja Sir. Pleased as punch, Ranjan and Perumol went out of the room.
‘At least the candles will be of use’, Braja Sir added, making Johnson smile as he left for the office nearby.
We had quick baths, changed our clothes, and reconvened with the others in the room. Dr Vishwanathan, who visited the complex once a week, joined us for a chat. Braja Sir took out a roll of betel nuts from his small box and blended lime and tobacco. He gave Dr Vishwanathan the box. The doctor gently passed the box on to Ranjan. Munching on betel nuts, Braja Sir said, ‘Mr Johnson, you’ve poured cold water on our thrilling hopes.’
