Heaven of Man

The roads were busy, the smell was strong, cows and bulls and mud cakes, and smoke from trucks with croaking engines. The sounds were loud, horns, munching, a constant humming in the air, engines idling, engines roaring. Cars, trucks, donkey carts, motorcycles, cycles, a stray cow standing in the middle of the road here and there, a broken, bumpy road. The air tasted of the third world, diesel and poverty, and smells that could not be eradicated. Greens grew sparsely. Broken mud huts grew like weeds. You could almost feel the lives of the people living here.

Then you reached a fork. One side led to the same kind of road. The other side was lined with barriers and serious looking guards in uniform. Suddenly, you were shocked out of your boredom, beyond the weaponed, uniformed guards and the ominous black steel gates, heaven loomed.

You turned into that fork, they waved you through, seemingly flawless entry. In fact, they had been told to watch out for your car and the three behind you. Cameras swiveled as they collected your license plate numbers and stored them in case they were needed later.

You passed the gates, and you entered heaven thus. Green on both sides of the road. The road itself, smooth, flawless, not one stone or molecule out of place. Not discolored at all, like the road before. You rolled down your window, the air outside fresh and breezy and tasty, it is as if just by entering the gates, just beyond those gates, you were in a different world altogether. You breathe it in. Beautiful. Every now and then, a uniformed jawaan marches by. Going from one place to another, always with purpose, in this self-contained community. The sound is of stillness and silence. Not a sound out of place, it is as if before you were buffeted with a cacophony of sounds and now there is silence. Peaceful, calm. Calming. The air tastes green and fresh.

As you entered, a motorcycle that had been waiting for your arrival, an immaculately uniformed officer astride it started off, leading the way. An army jeep joined in, giving you company. They led you to your residences where you were served for ‘refreshments’, lightly fried fish and creamy egg sandwiches and meaty kebab joints. Followed by a stomach-settling tea. You were run through the program for the next day and a half, and the major assigned to your party saluted and with a final ‘sir’ stepped out. Thirty minutes for refreshing yourselves and onto a flurry of activities planned down to the minute.

You were in a perfectly planned heaven. Beautifully decorated ‘flats’, as they called them, one floor, two spacious rooms, a living room, a kitchen with an attendant to tend to your every need.

Not too far away, on the border that spanned between the snake and the mongoose, shots rang loud. The massive Dam trembled. Gunpowder filled the air. Bloodshed was imminent. It seemed even heaven could not handle man.