A Small Chappati

Maybe I shouldn’t have picked it up. It really wouldn’t have mattered. I’d get all this and more when I reached Toronto. What was the point of risking so much, for so little? 50 grams of hash? A small black chapatti tucked away at the bottom of my overly stacked backpack.

Well, its too late now, aint it?

Transit stop. In Manchester. It’s the first quarter after 9/11, January 02 to be precise. A very shaken and stirred western world opens its arms to a swarm of Muslims, Arabs and sub continentals…coming into their country, to study, work.

We were walking single file, slowly, with deliberate steps, and it felt like a walk in a prison, with shackles between your feet…a million and one thoughts were going through my head, and I ignored all of them, and continued my walk forward, towards what seemed like a counter, with three customs officers waiting to handle each passenger personally.

The stuff was good. We had gone up north to get it ourselves. That’s how it happens basically. It could compare with any top of the line hashish being sold in Amsterdam, or any drug friendly place. You couldn’t find it in Toronto.

I noticed a man in uniform appear into the long hallway, with a German Sheppard by his side. OK. Let’s not panic. I have dogs too. They won’t smell this. My mind found tens of thousands of reasons to calm myself down, to make myself believe that the cute little doggie wouldn’t smell anything.

The doggie wasn’t looking up or down. He was walking two steps behind his master, and smelling shoe after shoe after shoe. Beads of cold sweat appeared on my forehead and trickled down my face. I was transfixed. Anything could happen. I had heard of people being caught with dope, and getting away with it, but I knew real life wasn’t that lucky.

The doggie came and went. Without looking up. I didn’t even look down at the doggie. I was staring at the person in front of me, at the back of their head, not trying to move.

The man in uniform walked all the way down the line, and then back up again. I felt light headed. Adrenaline is a great drug!!!! I wonder if there’s a chemical form of it available…anyway, we had nearly reached the end of the line now, and there were three customs officers standing in front of us, each handling one passenger at a time.

Sir, can you please hand me your backpack? Where are you headed sir? Toronto? And what is the purpose of your visit there? Oh you study…what is it that you study? Uhun, accounting…that’s pretty boring.

This conversation happened as the customs lady opened my backpack, and started taking each thing out one at a time. As she was doing this, her eyes were transfixed on mine, looking for a reaction, or any sort of sign to let me know that I was shaken, and about to be stirred.

But hey it’s not that easy. I answered each question of hers immediately, looking straight at her, unflinching. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts in the answers. They had to be prompt, they had to be confident, and they had to be true. By now, she has unpacked half my bag, a large cd case, a box of Pringles, a couple of books, cigarettes, an extra sweater had come out, and a few things remained inside, include a small chocolate box, which had inside it, a small piece of chocolate, if you will.

Oh you like Oscar Wilde? The question brought me back to life. My attention had slightly wavered, and I hadn’t being paying attention…oh, I’m sorry, yes I love Oscar Wilde, he’s my favorite author infact, I’ve read all his stuff. The lady then went on to have a 5-minute conversation with me on the unselfish love of Basil, of the sarcastic knowledge that Lord Henry was bestowed with, whilst repacking my bag.

She packed my bag exactly the way I had done it. I really couldn’t care less then, she could just stuff it and let me go, but no hurry, we’ll get through this. Here you go sir, thank you for your cooperation, have a nice time at the airport, and a safe journey ahead.

As I moved away from the line, and ahead towards the transit area, I felt life return to me. The last 10 minutes had been intense. I hadn’t bargained for this. I wondered if the worst had passed.
I guessed I would have to wait till Toronto to find out.