Free The Benefit Season by Nidhi Singh Page A

him
any. ‘Try me, uncle. Please tell me. Even if I can’t do anything,
at least you will feel lighter. I promise you, if after today you
say you don’t want to see me again, you won’t’.
    The man knots and unknots the frayed ends of
his white cotton scarf- confused where to start.
    ‘ It’s ok uncle, what harm
can he do?’ Chand says. ‘ I think he’s like one of us’.
    The uncle looks at his protégé, and begins
to speak. ‘Well, my brother has three daughters, elder to Mukut
here. You know how it is; to marry them off and for their dowries
he took farm loans from the cooperatives. Then he took more loans
from the local moneylenders to repay the farm loans. When the
interest became larger than the capital, and it all ballooned
beyond his capacity, he took more loans. He got trapped in the
vicious circle and when he had nothing left to mortgage…he
committed suicide so that the family wouldn’t suffer any more
because of him. You see, the govt. loans get written off but in the
village, the moneylender’s loans don’t. Proud landlords that we
were, we are servants now in our own farms. My wife, and daughters-
I have six of the fairest, are now working the lands and houses of
the lender’s for two meals a day only. I have avowed that I will
repay my brother’s debt and earn back our family lands, name and
honor. I have been allowed to leave my home so that I can try and
repay the debt. My family is still held hostage in the village-
they can’t leave, or they’ll be killed. Mukut has never stayed back
at the village since he was in Military School, so they couldn’t
get a hold on him. So now you see, why I can’t afford to take
chances with Mukut- he’s our only hope. I have sacrificed my own
family so that I can make something of this boy.’
    ‘ If you let us manage him,
you will have your land and your honor again. And your family will
be together again’.
    ‘ We have survived
difficult times so far, and we can do it in the future as well.
Leave us to our destiny’.
    ‘ Just because Mukut has
made it to the national XI, doesn’t mean that he’ll stay there till
the next selections. Look at the competition, the political pulls;
without solid support, how far do you think the boy will last out
there’?
    ‘ As long as it is god’s
will! And his will is what we accept with gratitude’.
    ‘ Do you think it’s fair to
Mukut?’
    ‘ What do you mean? You
think I’m not doing all this for him?’ The man roars.
    ‘ How long do you think the
boy can take the pressure. There is the stress of playing on the
field and then off it he knows he has to work towards the family
debt. Do you think that will bring out the best in your boy? Why
not let us take care of all his problems off the field and you and
him work on his game?’
    ‘ We have managed so far
without you haven’t we? So leave us be’.
    ‘ If you had your debts
squared off, and your family here with you, don’t you think Mukut
would do a far better job? He has talent here; we could bring in
the pros that could tweak his technique and fitness, which would
give him that edge. Don’t you think, Mukut?’ I turn to the boy. He
seems to agree but can’t speak in front of the elder. He looks
entreatingly at the uncle.
    ‘ Don’t listen to him boy’,
the uncle booms! ‘ Him and his cunning ways, and words sweet, silky
and smooth as honey. Pay our debts and unite our families! I
haven’t heard such yarn in my years. Strap ‘em up and git ye out to
the field. And you, be gone with you, tempter from the
dark!’
    I bend and touch his feet,
and walk away. My two chancy companions follow me out. Next the
doors is placed a visitors book. I shuffle through the pages and
find the uncle’s address: “Village Kursi, Block Gondlamau, District
Sitapur, UP.” I snap a picture of the address and joust past
photographer punters on phone with their bookies, players tipping
off on pitch conditions and managers betting against their own
teams.