An addict’s journey from near doom to hope

The journey from substance abuse to sobriety is a well-documented one, drug addiction and its repercussions providing ample fodder for movies, literature, song lyrics and poetry over the ages. Arjun Nath’s autobiographical book, White Magic, describes the tortuous route of an addict’s journey from near-doom to hope with a kind of searing honesty that is, paradoxically, both disconcerting and endearing. The book opens with the narrator’s first brush with heroin on the streets of Mumbai followed by a graphic description of drugs readily available in the market and their popular street names. The next thing the reader knows is that the protagonist is driving down with his father into the hallowed premises of a rehabilitation camp called “The Sacred Land” where it is hoped that he will emerge reformed.

“The Sacred Land” or just “Land” as the inmates popularly refer to it, is unlike run-of-the-mill rehabilitation centers where addicts get quarantined and cured in the traditional manner. Situated near Kalyan, a satellite town of Mumbai and divided into old and modern sections, “Land” is inhabited by addicts from affluent families from across the world, who are in various stages of battling their personal demons. Seniors dot the place enforcing stringent rules and “head monitors” are assigned to look after every area — ciggie HM, meds HM, food HM, detox HM, etc. Cigarettes are rationed out to each inmate. The author has no qualms deglamorising an addict’s life and writes about constipation and other repercussions of drug abuse with cringe-inducing frankness. Befriended by Sonya, Ridhwan, Amer, Tanzeel and others, the narrator is gently assisted in getting accustomed to “Land”. Presiding over the centre is Doc, the omnipresent founder-head of the rehab facility, who is conspicuous by his absence when the author arrives at “Land”. But the inmates talk glowingly about Doc. When the author finally gets to meet Doc, we see a major clash of personalities when the two first meet. Rebellious, irreverent and itching to break out of rehab, the narrator insists on exhibiting his worst behaviour till, finally, Doc — with his innovative techniques for erasing uncomfortable pasts and personal guilt and with his unique take on life — wins him over. The book tackles existential questions lurking in the minds of all youth in an unobtrusive manner; there is no attempt, however, at any kind of in-depth analysis of the causes leading to drug abuse or the ramifications of withdrawal. Told entirely from the author’s perspective, the gradual transformation and, ultimately, the breaking free of a hardened addict is what lends the book its luminescent quality.

However, it is Doc’s story, running parallel to the narrator’s, that makes this book interesting.

Who exactly is Doc The author takes us back to the childhood years of Ismail Merchant, the second of five children of Adam and Snehalata Merchant, who renamed himself Yusuf after filmstar Dilip Kumar and then became Bhai in his adolescent years. On finishing his M.B.B.S. degree, he became a doctor, better known as Doc.

Growing up in a wealthy Muslim family in south Mumbai, the wilful, tantrum-throwing and difficult Yusuf has his personality further warped by the problematic relationship he shared with his father. The discovery of his mother’s secret life with another man only worsened matters. A born troublemaker, Yusuf has in his hot head an amazingly sharp mind. His brilliantly high IQ secures him a seat in a medical college, but since he has walked out of his father’s house, he has to support himself. What follows are a couple of years of edgy living in college with friends who look like they are straight out of Munna Bhai M.B.B.S. A pitched soda-bottle attack (from Bhai’s end) on a rival group in the college canteen illustrates the desperado’s flair for drama and violence. His love-life, likewise, is no less colourful with his first marriage at 19 to Rekha breaking up in a few years to be followed by a brief romance with his friend’s sister Diya. Marriage with Padma follows but, ultimately, he finds his soulmate in his assistant Sangita. Suffused with the street smells, sounds and lingo of Mumbai, the chapters about Doc may be quintessentially Mumbaiyya, but the all pervading philosophy is universal.

When Yusuf Merchant M.B.B.S. swaggers out of medical college the reader expects him to wreak havoc on the world. Instead, in a flash of inner illumination in a psychiatric ward, Doc realises his true calling in life — waging a war on drugs. Soon, Doc gathers a bunch of drug addicts and sets up a rehabilitation camp of sorts in his own home. Thus, the seed a sanctuary for those hopelessly addicted to drugs is sown.

Championing this cause and helping Doc out at “Land” are members from his family. The metamorphosis of Yusuf Merchant from an enfant terrible to college hoodlum, to an M.B.B.S. doctor and from there into a visionary healer who has a very original, out-of-the-box approach to healing addicts with gyaan, games and fun, is the stuff of true heroism. Many a reader may want to meet Doc after reading the book.

Nath’s prose, peppered with yuppy jargon (the “f” word occurs so frequently, one loses count) is refreshingly original and he has a wicked way with words. Though the spotlight is firmly on Doc and the author, the sundry characters who drift in and out lend substance to the book — from Doc’s younger brother Dadul, torn between love (for Doc) and conscience to Rez, the gorgeous Bangladeshi, the jovial Sonya or the unforgettable Akshay, the characters are deftly etched. Nath oscillates between erudition and naivety, and this lends his voice an uneven tenor that is wonderfully in keeping with the nature of the book’s subject; the reader can visualise a young man whose intellect, body and emotions are totally out of sync with each other. A couple of real-life milestones like man’s first landing on the moon, the declaration of Emergency and Mumbai’s communal riots are briefly touched upon.

Though the book revolves around addiction, redemption and an entire landscape between the two extremes, there is a lovable innocence to the characters, even goofiness in spurts, which gives buoyancy to the text. Hugely readable, White Magic mercifully does not preach abstinence from addiction with missionary zeal, nor does it take the moral high ground. By talking about one man's journey to freedom courtesy an unlikely philosopher-mentor, the book succeeds in driving home the message that addiction is not necessarily a one-way trip. There is life beyond and it just might go by the name of hope.

Kankana Basu is a Mumbai-based writer. Her published works of fiction include a collection of short stories, Vinegar Sunday, and a novel, Cappuccino Dusk.