The Easy Day Was Yesterday (37 page)

Back to the issue of getting me out of here — I worried about the paper not being signed and we had heard rumours that it might not be signed. I learnt that the Deputy Head of the Australian Mission was visiting the Joint Secretary’s office today to check on the paper. When Martin arrived, I got the sense he was looking for a finish line — he’d had enough. I didn’t blame him, we seemed to be getting nowhere and they had had to endure four hours of travel every day — poor bastards — and all because of my stupidity.

Rajeesh was very apologetic about his cock-up this morning and wanted to make amends. I told him it was hotter than hell in my room and could he please find a small fan for me? He returned about 20 minutes later with a massive box about the size of a washing machine, although it looked like a bale of hay stuck inside a plastic box. Apparently it was an evaporative air-conditioner, but all this thing did was to blow very hot, humid air at me at 200 kilometres per hour. It was as if a hurricane had entered the room. I think Rajeesh thought the bigger the unit the bigger the apology! It was a very kind gesture. Rajeesh was a good guy and thought he was doing the right thing.

At 12.00 Martin came in with a grave look on his face. He was preparing me for bad news, but then said the paper had been signed and was with the Bihar government. I could have fucking killed him, but was thrilled that we now seemed to be getting somewhere. Martin and Rajeesh went off to Bala’s office to follow up on this good news. On their way out, Rajeesh again apologised for his foolishness. ‘Don’t worry about that now, mate, just do what you can to find out where this letter is and what we have to do to get it to the local office.’

Sallie and I stayed in the room and then ventured into the hallway for some cool air. The hallway was mildly better than the room. Honestly, the room was like living in the jungles of Vietnam in the middle of summer — hot and humid.

Martin returned with bananas and fruit juice and word that it would only be a few more days. Keep in mind that I’d been hearing this ‘few more days’ line since day one and it had now been 20 days since my arrest, so the phrase ‘a few more days’ didn’t sit well with me any more. Martin told me that he had a contact in the Australian Embassy in Kathmandu and that, when I was released, they’ll have a doctor waiting for me to give me the once over and load me up with injectable antibiotics. He also said they were working on trying to renew my visa for re-entry into Nepal. I got a bit pissed off. First, I didn’t actually want a Nepali doctor injecting anything into me. What I had could wait until I got back to Sydney. Second, why the hell was anyone talking about my visa and re-entry? I hadn’t been arrested with my passport. There was no exit stamp on my passport so, for all intents and purposes, Nepali Immigration had no record of my leaving Nepal. I asked Martin to let it go and not mention the visa issue to anyone. Martin agreed and that was the end of that. I was certainly grateful though, as Martin’s forward planning had been useful on many occasions. Sallie and Martin left at 5.00 pm for the long drive back — poor bastards, I wished I was going with them.

I had a quiet night. I caught up on my writing, I did one Sudoku puzzle, I read some and sat outside with the guards in the cooler evening air for a while. At 6.00 pm I had my bucket bath and, 10 minutes later, started sweating again. By 11.00 pm I entered the free world of sleep.

Friday 13 June

It was too hot to sleep so I was out of bed and stuffing about at around 5.00 am. The juice was refreshing and, when the fridge worked, the juice was cold. Honestly, I had it so good now.

The team arrived at about 10.00 am. Sallie’s instincts had been right on the money every time. She started pushing the idea of calling the Bihar Home Secretary, but the others said no, don’t push them, they will sign the form in their own time. But she insisted and called anyway. She got straight through to the man himself who was exceptionally polite and assured her that he was aware of the case and would have the documents signed today. There was much excitement and Bala’s 2IC said it would only take two hours to process when it arrived in Araria and then I could go free. At 4.30 pm, Martin returned with the news that approval had to come from the courts and that the court was closed for the weekend, so I’d have to wait until Monday for my release. Bugger it, here we go again — there was always something.

Sallie decided she would call the Home Secretary again to see where the letter was and again the others said no, just wait. But, once more, she went with her instincts which again proved to be perfect. The Home Secretary was very polite and said he’d sent the letter 45 minutes ago. The team drove straight to Bala’s office. In typical fashion, Bala started kicking arse. The Public Prosecutor started to create some waves until Bala opened up on him with a torrential downpour of abuse until he decided to play the game. There was some concern that I’d have to wait until Triparthy returned from his vacation on Wednesday so he could sign the papers, but Bala kicked some more arse and encouraged the Public Prosecutor to work over the weekend to get the Bihar courts to give Triparthy’s replacement permission to sign the papers. So at best I was here until Monday, and worst case until Thursday, but at least I was being released.

The team left late after a huge day and had a hectic drive back to the border before it closed to vehicle traffic at 8.00 pm. I rang Sallie several times and was happy when she finally said they’d made it back to the hotel.

It was a quiet night for me. It rained all night so there was no power or back-up generator. This, of course, meant it was bloody hot all night. The guards must have assumed that this was a great time for someone to escape — they were right — and continually checked that I was still in the room. The meal delivered by Bala’s cook was excellent — a small bowl of vegetables in a curry sauce with roti bread on the side. I ate the meal by candlelight, but it was useless trying to read or do Sudoku with a flickering light, so I just lay there in the darkness. I felt as though I was putting on weight at last.

Saturday 14 June

Debu-San (my red-stained-teeth lawyer) came for a visit and was pissed off that he hadn’t been included in yesterday’s discussions. He was adamant that I needed to wait for Triparthy to return from his holiday before I could be released. I said, ‘I don’t want to wait until Thursday.’

‘I know how you feel,’ he said.

‘Oh do you?’ I replied. ‘How much time have you spent in prison?’

‘Never,’ he replied with a wobble of his head.

‘Then, with all due respect, Debu-San, you have no idea how I feel.’

He agreed and we went on to chat about the good things the Magistrate (Triparthy) had done for me. He had told Debu-San that I must plead not guilty, and that if I pleaded guilty he would be left with no choice but to sentence me to months and not days in prison. Triparthy was the one who had told the team to go through the Home Secretary to have the charges dropped. He had also told an open courtroom that he thought I was innocent. Debu-San said that he’d spoken to three of the four witnesses and they had been briefed on what to say. One witness was the manager of a hotel adjacent to the border, and he was also a former client of Debu-San’s, as was his son. Debu-San said the witnesses would support me even though they never saw me at the border. He said the arresting police inspector (Jai Shankar) had made sure that I had compliant witnesses. Finally, Debu-San said his goodbyes and promised to bring his wife next time for a chat. He was a nice guy who was earning great money from his one client.

Sallie, Martin, Ujwal and a former student arrived. It was a waste bringing the former student, but how could we refuse when they had given me so much support during my first 10 days in gaol? Bala sent word that food would arrive at my cell for two and the others were to go to his house for lunch even though he thought he wouldn’t be there. What a guy — he probably wouldn’t be there, but insisted that the team use his house for lunch and to rest. So Sallie and I ate a nice lunch in my cell and then rested for an hour in the sauna. The other guys returned and hung around for an hour waiting for Bala to get back to his office for a final chat before returning to Nepal. Bala stopped by for a quick chat as he was at the hospital interviewing a doctor for a position. He said he’d be back tomorrow night for a final chat before my release. ‘Inshallah,’ I said.

As the sun went down, I sat out the front with the guards to enjoy the cooling evening air, but it was still hot and I continuously fanned myself with a cheap fan. A young boy and a girl carrying a baby approached me and said ‘hello’. The boy could speak very good English; he was about 14 years old. The girl, his sister, was about 12 and their younger brother was about 18 months. I gave all three some Australian souvenirs Sallie had brought with her and they were thrilled. Apparently their dad was the hospital pathologist and they lived in a house very close to my cell.

I decided to go to bed at around 8.00 pm and read my book for while. At 10.00 pm a doctor knocked on the door. When I answered he told me someone from New Delhi had called to see if I was okay. I was fine, but wish I had acted a little sicker because I didn’t want to have to return to the gaol.

Sunday 15 June

There was a knock on the door at 7.00 am, but I’d been awake reading for hours anyway. The little kids said, ‘Congratulations, you will be released.’

‘How do you know this?’ I asked.

‘It is in the newspaper today.’

‘Well, let’s not get too carried away yet,’ I said, but liked the sound of what they were saying.

The guards indicated it was time for a cup of tea, which roughly translated to ‘buy us a cup of tea now’. So I gave them the usual 100 rupee note and off the guard went to get tea for the guards and two cups for me. It was a nice way to start the day and I liked the tea. I then had my morning bucket bath and again wondered what the old man was doing. The bucket bath was refreshing as I was covered in a layer of dried sweat from the night of sleeping in the cell next to the hurricane of hot, humid air. The other difference in the hospital was that my shower was in a room so I could close the door and nude up for a good wash.

I decided to sit outside for a while and try to enjoy the day. While I sat there a doctor walked past, looked at me, and said, ‘Hey, what are you doing?’

‘Bugger all, mate, what are you doing?’ I replied with some boredom. I was getting pissed off with the constant staring and enquiries, but he seemed to be a decent bloke and he came over and sat down. I told him my story to which he replied, ‘Jesus!’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Jesus.’

He then told me that he was a doctor at the hospital, but also had offices at Forbes-Gange. Forbes-Gange was the town next to Araria and on the way to Nepal. He sent a man for more tea, which made me happy, and our conversation continued. He introduced himself as Dr Vijay Chaudry and asked if I would stop by his house for a meal when I was released. I told him my girlfriend would probably want to drive at the speed of light back to Nepal on my release. He then offered his house to Sallie and the team and also offered his car if we should need it. He gave me his contact details and said that, if I needed anything, I should call. Then he was off. What a nice guy.

I received a text from Sallie to say that they weren’t coming today, as the vehicle needed repairs. Poor Sallie. I knew she desperately wanted to come and spend the day here, but I was sure the other guys really appreciated the day off.

I spent a lot of time outside today as it was just too hot inside. The kids visited for a while but, all in all, it was a slow, boring day. But it was still so much better than being in the gaol. I really didn’t want to go back to that shithouse.

I got a call from Sam, which was good. He sounded well and I was very proud of the way he had handled the situation. He had come second in his bike competition — I was so proud. I hadn’t spoken to my little mate, Zac, yet, but had some nice texts from him, which was great for my morale.

Bala came to visit at about 7.00 pm and, as we shared some mango juice, he told me about his girlfriend in Geneva. Apparently Bala had met the lady of his dreams while at university and had fallen desperately in love with her. Unfortunately, she had been offered a job in the Foreign Service while he was offered work with the government, so they were forced to live apart. But for Bala that didn’t matter, he still wanted to marry her and then be with her when the time came. To Bala and his girlfriend it didn’t matter that it might be 10 years or more — he just knew he only wanted to be with this girl. Unfortunately, his girlfriend’s mother had refused permission for them to marry. She thought the marriage wouldn’t survive all those years apart and suggested her daughter find someone else. Bala had also received several offers of arranged marriages and the ladies were all from very good and wealthy families. Bala was quite a catch and plenty of families wanted a Sub-District Magistrate for their daughters. But Bala refused all offers and just hoped that one day he could go to Geneva to be with the love of his life.

Bala was very optimistic that I would be released tomorrow. He also thought he should have done more and told Sallie to go to Putna (the capital of Bihar). He believed that, if Sallie had gone to Putna, I would have been released by now. He believed his input had slowed things down.

‘Rubbish,’ I said, ‘I’d be dying in that filthy prison if it wasn’t for you, Bala.’ Bala and I said our final goodbyes, as he was that confident that I’d be released tomorrow. I wasn’t getting too excited at the prospect because I’d been let down so many times before.

Monday 16 June

This was supposed to be the day I got released. I woke early despite wanting to sleep a lot longer. The excitement of being released hadn’t surfaced yet as I expected there to be some mundane reason preventing it and ensuring that I would have to stay ‘just a few more days’. I had my morning bucket bath, then a lazy glass of tea with the guards and then rested in my room sending text messages to Sallie and the kids. There was a knock on the door and I was bloody surprised when I opened it because my arresting officer, Sub-Inspector Jai Shankar Prakash, was standing there. I hadn’t seen him since the day he had delivered me to the gaol, but I had no hard feelings towards him. He had done all that he could to persuade the SP, Siddiqui, to drop the charge. When the SP wouldn’t, he had ensured that I was treated well at the prison and also made sure the witnesses for the prosecution were weak.