Stories › Greentext › The Red Tip
Greentext · 4 minThe Red Tip
>be me, 9 years
>1995, a railway colony in secunderabad
>outside our school gate there is a man with a push cart
>everybody calls him gate uncle
>he has everything
>parle-g small pack, one rupee
>poppins in all colours, the roll you twist open
>big fun bubblegum with a cricket card inside
>imli candy, jeeragoli, orange mittai in a glass jar
>and phantom
>phantom is a small box of sweet cigarettes
>white sticks with a red tip
>the red tip is the whole point
>you hold it between two fingers
>you blow out, even though nothing comes out
>in december mornings, with the fog, it looks real
>me and my best friend bablu
>every evening at 3:45 after the long bell
>one phantom between us, one rupee
>five sticks in the box
>we stand at the gate like heroes
>bablu does the rajinikanth flip
>he tosses the stick up and catches it in the mouth
>he misses nine out of ten
>i do the style of our maths sir
>who smokes behind the cycle stand
>one finger tapping off the ash that is not there
>we are very good at this
>one wednesday, 3:50
>i am at the gate with a stick between my fingers
>blowing out, eyes half closed, like maths sir
>a luna stops at the gate
>a grey luna with a dent in the mudguard
>pedda mama's luna
>pedda mama is amma's elder brother
>he is a hindi teacher in another school
>he never smiles
>his own sons are scared of him
>he looks at me
>he looks at my fingers
>he does not say anything
>he kicks the luna and goes
>bablu says "who is that"
>i say "my life is over"
>i walk home very slowly
>i eat the last two sticks to destroy the evidence
>when i reach, the grey luna is already parked inside our gate
>in the hall
>pedda mama on the chair
>amma standing
>nanna standing
>tatayya in his easy chair by the window
>ammamma at the kitchen door with her hand on her mouth
>"show your hands" pedda mama says
>i show
>"smell" he says to amma
>amma smells my fingers
>"sugar" she says
>"sugar" pedda mama says, like it is a crime word
>"they make it sweet so children start"
>"first sweet, then beedi, then cigarette, then cancer"
>ammamma starts crying
>i start crying because ammamma is crying
>nanna says "where did you get it"
>"gate uncle" i say
>"one rupee"
>"show"
>i have one empty box in my pocket
>i give it
>pedda mama holds it up like a court exhibit
>everybody is talking at the same time
>then tatayya says "give it here"
>nobody hears
>he says it again, louder
>"give it here"
>the hall goes quiet
>tatayya smoked beedi for forty years
>he stopped eleven years ago when the doctor at nims shouted at him
>amma says he was impossible for one full year after that
>he takes the box
>he opens it, empty
>he smells it
>"do you have more" he asks me
>i shake my head
>"tomorrow, buy two" he says
>pedda mama says "nanna!"
>pedda mama is his son, i forgot to say
>"it is sugar, ramu" tatayya says
>"you said it yourself, sugar"
>"one for him, one for me"
>he takes a two rupee note from his shirt pocket
>gives it to me in front of everybody
>pedda mama gets up and goes out to his luna
>he did not come for two sundays
>next day i bought two phantoms
>tatayya sat on the verandah at six in the evening
>where he used to sit with his beedi
>he took one white stick
>held it between two fingers, the old way
>looked at the road
>blew out
>nothing came out
>he closed his eyes
>"eleven years" he said
>after that, every evening
>one phantom for me, one phantom for tatayya
>gate uncle started keeping two aside
>"for the old man" he would say
>bablu was jealous, his tatayya did not do things like this
>tatayya never ate the sticks
>he only held them
>and blew
>when the stick went soft in his fingers he gave it to me
>i ate tatayya's phantoms for three years
>they tasted a little of his fingers
>of vibhuti and newspaper
>phantom does not come anymore
>last year in a shop in begum bazaar i found something like it
>white sticks, red tips
>i bought one box
>i have not opened it
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