The Incredible Banker by Ravi Subramanian

The Incredible Banker by Ravi Subramanian

10 January 2004

Malkangiri, Orissa
HE rickety state transport bus was the last to leave the small run-down
bus stand in Malkangiri. On board, apart from the driver and the
conductor, were sixteen people, all making their way to Bhubaneswar
via Koraput - a neighbouring town. Till the early nineties Malkangiri
was a part of Koraput but it was carved out as a separate district in 1992.
The vast dense jungle of Malkangiri was home to several tribes. Dotted
with steep ghats, plateaus, valleys and wooded hills the area was beautiful,
though secluded and lonely.
In one of the blocks in Malkangiri, Ganjali, the local coordinator of an
NGO was resting in the dark and isolated balcony of the dak bungalow. The
bungalow was about twenty-five metres away from the main road
connecting the highway passing through the town to the bus depot. The
only people in the bungalow were Ganjali and the caretaker. A lone bulb
glowed dimly in the hall of the bungalow threatening to go off anytime,
casting surreal shadows on the walls. Some would have found the scene
intimidating but not Ganjali. Even though Bhubaneswar was where he
carried out most of his lobbying he was not new to Malkangiri. The
caretaker in the dak bungalow didn't know that, since Ganjali was staying
there for the first time.
'Why is the dak bungalow empty? Does no one come here?' he asked the
caretaker.
'People do come, sahib. But they mostly leave before night falls. They
stay back for the night only if they miss the bus or if something urgent
comes up.'
'Why?'
'Because this place is not safe, sahib. You are an outsider, so you do not
know what happens here. Please do not venture out in the night. Just put off
the lights and go to sleep. These are bad times.'
'I am anyway waiting for the bus to come. I will be leaving in an hour's
time.'
'Oh yes, yes. I completely forgo

The Incredible Banker by Ravi Subramanian