Of Gutka and its Addicts

Just today, as i was walking along a road, the driver of an approaching car poked his head out of the window and spat a huge mouthful of chewed-and-battered contents of Gutka in thick red juice. A few tiny particles of his spit, too light to fall on the ground, wafted onto my face with the wind. The copious spit was still wet on the road as i passed by. The splash of  red liquid landing on the road from a considerable height had made a brilliant pattern, and I stood there for a moment to appreciate the man's impromptu piece of art on the surface of a road. Soon, with the sun beating down on it, it'll begin to lose its wetness and then, gradually, its redness. Soon, only a  yellowish-orange blot shall remain till it is washed away by rain or is eclipsed by a redder discharge from the mouth of another man on another vehicle, whichever is first.

I thought about the addicts.

Fascinating bunch of people are the gutka loving folk. With their mouths stuffed to the brim for large parts of the day, they speak less, talk less, listen more, observe more, think more, and thus, inevitably, have better stories to share, greater wisdom to part.

Consider this workshop assistant in the Mechanical Engineering Department of one engineering college.

Years upon years of relentless Gutka chewing meant his mouth looked like a war-torn city. Teeth that weren't already missing from their roots were half their supposed size. Around such stained and utterly tattered teeth, he possessed a thundering voice, a towering frame, and a temper that flared at the slightest nudge. He loved his tea as much as his gutka, if not more. With a mouth stuffed to the brim, he could be seen walking around the department doing his work, and getting work done; Often, He could be heard hurling choicest of expletives at fellow workers working inefficiently - something he had no patience with. This part, I know too well.

I was in one of the shops trying to cut a hollow cylindrical steel rod clamped onto a bench vice with a hack saw. He was sitting in the shop, mouth full, legs stretched over the desk. He observed. Minutes passed and i had barely made a few scratches. Suddenly, he got up, went to the dust bin and spat with a hint of disgust. He came to the bench, pushed me aside saying "su chakla chodya kare che" and started at the rod with furious, heavy strokes. Obviously, the rod was hacked within a minute.  

Make no mistake, He wasn't just brawns. His tumultuous head housed a sharp brain, one that churned out quick solutions to little mechanical problems in student projects and lab equipments. His solutions could be unorthodox, but they worked nonetheless. As the tech fest or project submissions drew nearer, confused students would go to him for help, and help he would. Mumbling solutions through stuffed mouth or spitting out the contents and explaining if the problem was grave.

In a department with disproportionate male population, He was the man.

This 15th August, as India celebrated 65 years of Independence, somewhere in Gujarat, the Chief Minister Narendra Modi declared a state-wide ban on Gutka, to be effective from September 11. The motive is to discourage the youth from falling for the habit of chewing tobacco, which could ultimately lead to oral cancer. "In money terms, gutka consumption is more expensive than eating almonds" He said. An observation worth noting. Almonds, for one, are quite expensive and are known to be memory boosters. Given the sheer magnitude of stuff students need to memorize in order to do well in Gujarat Board, swapping gutka for almonds could well be the game changer.

Whether addicts spit out the ban or the ban spits out addiction, remains to be seen.