From movie cutouts to biriyani portions, everything comes king-size in Andhra Pradesh. Ganja fields in the state are no different. If pot was grown over plots that ranged between one to five acres on the hills of Kerala, the extent rose to anywhere between 5,000 and 10,000 acres in Andhra Pradesh.
At daybreak, the Tirupati-Bhubaneswar Express pulled into Srikakulam, the headquarters of the easternmost district of Andhra Pradesh. Srikakulam is a small municipality, just 90 kilometers away from the Orissa border. We had an appointment with a forest officer, a contact arranged by a local journalist. The officer could get us in touch with a truck driver, who had apparent connection with the ganja smugglers, the journalist had said.
Part I : Ganja gets three cheers as bars go dry in Kerala
Part II : Psychedelic 'Idukki Gold', made in Andhra & Orissa | Video
That night, we caught up with the driver in front of the city bus terminal but he did not want to help us. After some cajoling by the forest officer, he softened. After all, they came from the same village. The driver promised to lead us to a friend but he did not want to get involved and he would not be responsible for anything after that.
He kept his word. We got the phone number of our contact the next day. His name was Chotu. He said he would wait for us at a hamlet called Bhamini on the Orissa border.
About 97 kilometers away from Srikakulam, Bhamini is deep in tribal territory. Every crossroad has three or four shops and a dominating statue of former chief minister N T Rama Rao. We called up Chotu, who told us to get out of the car and wait by the roadside. We waited for almost two hours before we got a call back. The caller did some background check and was convinced that we were not trouble makers. He drove us to Chotu.
Part III : A haven for pot that keeps tribal economy afloat
Part IV : As the state withdraws from hilly terrains, a pot cooperative blooms
Chotu must be in his 40s. He speaks Hindi. We told him what we wanted. He agreed to lead us to the smugglers if we paid him Rs 2,000. We cut a deal with him. Chotu hired a jeep and drove us into the forest for an hour and a half. He stopped the jeep at some point and vanished into the darkness. After a while, he returned with another man.
Chotu introduced us as buyers from Kerala. Chotu’s contact steered us into a village inside the forest. We stopped before a hut covered with a plastic sheet. We were told to wait until the next morning.
We opened our eyes to thick fog in the morning. At about 10 am, a tall lean man appeared. We had been waiting for him to take us to the ganja farm. He asked us in Tamil how many kilos would we need. We almost goofed up when we said we would place the order after seeing the stock. Chotu diffused the situation. We walked up the mud track across another hillock. We spotted a small house and a field at the end of the track.
Three laborers stayed in the house. They were still in their teens. The Tamil speaker gave us a pack of weed as sample. Chotu felt it and testified it was great stuff. After we exchanged the money, the seller claimed that we got it at a discount because of Chotu.
There was a small shed behind the house and a small track that went somewhere. Two small trucks were parked near the shed. We would be dropped in one of these trucks to the point where we left our jeep the previous day. We will leave at night, Chotu declared. The camp had enough stock of country liquor to keep the men happy. Three more men appeared by evening. They all started loading packets of weed on to the truck.
By 10 pm, we were ready to leave. We traversed endless mud tracks until we were dropped in a small street past midnight. We had to wait for half an hour for another truck to pick us up. Everything has been coordinated by the smugglers. They considered it their duty to get us out of their territory safely. Any foolish move by a visitor could land them in trouble too.
It was past 3 am when we finally reached the spot where we had left our jeep. Chotu sped away with the parcels after dropping us on a bus route with memories of an adventure.
The ganja trail ends here, but these transit routes are wide open to fetch pot to God's own country. And that is something which our authorities should split their brains on.
(Continued)
