Addiction & Loss

‘OUR LIVES REVOLVED AROUND THE STUFF,
THE ONLY WAY OUT WAS IN’

Isn’t Jayanta Andy’s friend,” I heard my father asking, his voice stern, matter-of-fact. “He’s hanged himself.” “What? But we were together, just last night.” I sprang from my bed in disbelief.

It all began the summer Amo introduced us to cough syrup — Phensedyl to be precise. “It’s the coolest stuff, kids — no smell, tastes good, lasts long and you don’t even get drunk like with booze. You stay sober but the trip is amazing.” On and on he went till we were ready to plunge. And we did.

Next thing, we had a couple of Phensedyl bottles, one shared between two. With his thumb on the halfway mark, Jayanta took the first gulp, then Robi, then Deb and finally me. An hour later, we were as sober as Amo predicted, but nothing happened, no trip. We cursed Amo and dispersed. I went home, pulled out my comics and began reading. And I read and read till I realised it was almost morning. My throat was dry, my voice heavy and I was actually feeling pretty great. I was in a different world. I felt good about everything: talking, listening, reading. The others came back with similar experiences. Robi rendered a sketch of a girl all night, only to realise he hadn’t gone beyond the breasts. Jayanta kept cleaning his room over and over again.

That was the turning point. We liked Phensedyl and we began consuming it. Almost everyday we’d take turns and land up at different medical stores to buy our stuff before heading to school. Sometimes we’d pretend to have bad colds; sometimes we’d just say, very casually, “Can you give us some cough syrup, eh? I think Phensedyl is good… thank you.” In school, we became the most well-behaved students from being the worst. Started enjoying the voice of our otherwise dreaded Hindi teacher. We’d sit in the sun during the hot summer recess, watching the other students silently. Then there was the famous black tea in the school canteen, which would recharge us back to where we began the trip. But the end of the trip was the worst; we felt drowsy, irritable, tired. The only way to get out was to get in again. And we felt just fine, in the new world we had created.

We were on a ride and the ride continued till suspicion caught up with us. The medical stores would no longer supply us without a prescription. But it was too late, we were hooked and we had to find a substitute. So began our quest to find other preparations, chemically similar to Phensedyl. Codeine!! Present in high amounts in Phensedyl and in Tossex and in Corex and in Benadryl. It went on and on. A whole new world all thanks to chemistry.

One year down, our lives revolved around discovering and trying out different combinations, recipes and styles of consuming our stuff. Cigarettes and hot tea are good, bananas after suck, sunbathing is perfect, watching a movie is wonderful and a head massage is divine.Our dose increased and we needed the stuff for everything — dates, exams, meeting relatives, even otherwise. And it started affecting our health, but that never stopped us.

By then the cough syrup bug had infected almost every teenager in town. Soon the medical stores also stopped selling the other syrups without prescription. They even put in complaints to the police. Life became tough, and we were back to studying chemistry again. But this time it was a tablet – N10 or Nitrazepam, a sleeping pill, which in large doses produces hallucinations. N10 was much easier to get and consume than the syrups, but unlike the syrups, the tablets would make us aggressive. Sometimes they would knock us out for days. Sometimes you just couldn’t remember certain parts of your life — what you did, what you said. The most dicey part about the N10 trip was that when you thought of doing something, you’d find the next moment you’d already done it.

But our parents could never figure out what we were up to till the time a travelling fair visited our town, complete with ferris wheels, magic shows, joyrides, the works, all of which we’d enjoy on our N10 trips after school. One night, Jayanta, who was alone, picked up a fight with the fair volunteers over some ticket payment. He smashed a guy’s face on the ticket counter and the entire lot attacked him with rods. He was bruised. We all got pissed off — that night we ganged up and waited on the bridge over the river which separated the fair ground from the main town. We waited till they had crossed — they didn’t see us. Once they were over, we chased them and hammered them, one after the other. After about 15 or 20 minutes, we disappeared, leaving them shocked and wounded.

The next day we were the talk of the town. Our parents began uncovering our secret extracurricular activities. The police arrested Jayanta as he was the only one the people from the fair could identify. But our parents knew and were very disappointed.

Gradually things cooled down and our parents collectively decided that we were not to hang out together anymore. It didn’t stop us from doing so in school, but it was not the same. I, for one, had started to worry about my studies. Summer 1989, I won a scholarship to Mayo College, Ajmer, a scholarship for which both Jayanta and I had applied. I took it straightaway — I knew this was the time to get out, I had to get away, away from my friends, my home and the world we had created.

In Mayo many things changed, I learned new things, made new friends and, most importantly, discovered myself. Back home in Manipur, the choices were not quite the same for Jayanta, Robi and others. Jayanta was now selling N10 tablets to support his habit, Robi was a dropout while Deb was linked with an underground outfit.

1990, I went home for my first summer break. My parents were delighted and I was glad to be home. That evening, one of my friends who was standing for the college elections invited all of us to help in his campaign. We all got together at our favourite hangout, the bridge. Then Jayanta came along, shabbily dressed and bit zonked. He wasn’t all that delighted to see me, but we shook hands nonetheless and started to talk. I told stories about the outside world and he listened quietly. In the middle of the conversation he asked me whether I could lend him some dough. My reaction was spontaneous: “Dude, you’re still into it? It’s high time you gave the real sufferers a chance.” Did I mean that? I still don’t know. We all went on with the campaign. Jayanta went his way. And that was the last time I ever saw him. Apparently that night he drank, had two strips of N10 and watched Escape to Victory with Robi, flipping a coin all the while. After the film he talked about being fed up with life and also wanted to listen to his favourite song. But Robi had to return home early, leaving him all by himself.

It’s believed that even the flutter of a butterfly’s wing or the turn of a leaf affects the overall weather pattern and that’s why it is impossible to give accurate weather predictions. Do such incidents change the course of one’s life?

Robi is married with a kid but it’s still difficult for him to stay away from the stuff. Deb is missing after he was arrested and then released for his underground links. But Jayanta still remains on my conscience. Was he hoping for tails instead of heads while flipping the coin? Did he want to listen to his song so he could be with someone a little longer? Would he have ended his life if he hadn’t ever had the stuff?

Nov 11 , 2006