Volume 3 Issue 12 December, 2013
Stirring up a Hornet’s nest
While doing my post-graduation, I had an interesting interaction with a person in the campus. He was an elderly man, probably in his sixties, who was running a small shop in the campus near the old psychiatry OPD, clad in khadi shirt and mundu (lungi). He was selling biscuits, cigarettes, beedies, matches etc. (those days there were no rules governing sales and use of these things). I casually asked him “How are you swamy? How is your business?” He suddenly appeared provoked and started telling me: “What do you want to know? Do you really want to know how all those well-known people of Bangalore had and have been treating me? I can give you an account of what they did to trouble me and how they have all haunted me. I will not spare any one, whatever position he is in, be a high court judge or the prime minister or even the President of India. If you hear the story you will realize how all these so called great people have tried to put me down. But I have survived all their attempts to harass me…” He went on and on without allowing me to interrupt. I remained stunned by everything he recalled and told to me within a span of about 10 minutes. It was clear that he was elaborating on his so far encapsulated delusions. Till that day I had presumed him to be a person with some personal miseries with no one to care for him and hence housed here for shelter. I had hardly imagined him to
be having so much to say in response to my informal enquiry. At the end when I abruptly departed saying I have some work, I could see a contemptuous smile on his face which I remember even now.
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