CANNABIS MOB

 CANNABIS MOB

 

A mob of cannabis peddlers and advocates is holding a meeting at the city’s Chinese eatery in downtown Chinatown. The air is thick with cannabis smoke as the mob members pass the chillum around. The waiter hurries along as he places plates of Manchurian, chilli-chicken, hakka noodles, steamed fish, fried rice, fresh from the chef’s stove, to their table. The mob members are seated huddled around. They have had a long and successful run in several cities in which they operated. Now they were in search of new territory to expand their business. With this purpose in mind, they had assembled today at the Chinese eatery The Lizard in the city.

 

‘Hasan, I leave it up to you to come up with a plan to invade this community. How you’ll do that, I leave that up to you. But I suggest you start with the cream of society. The young, once we have them in our 

pockets, then we can slowly dump our stuff here,’ said Lo Hsing, the mob boss, speaking with an authoritarian voice.

 

Hasan, the young blood, who Lo Hsing had personally groomed, nodded.’That will be easy, Khun Sa here tells me that the college fests are coming around the corner. We will pass our stuff around.’

 

‘Pablo, I suggest you draw up a list of names of users who are already using our product. Go around identifying them, and rein them in, they will be our most fabulous advertisers, ‘continued Lo Hsing, barking orders at his junior deputy.

 

‘We are already on to it…We have rounded up a few, and we will soon step on the pedal…rest assured… Boss’ said Pablo, as he took a long drag of the chillum.

 

‘Identify the potential customers at every locality…Khun Sa, I leave that to you. The law says, as we all know, that cannabis is banned in this city. But what these folks don’t know is our experience in dealing with this stuff, as thanks to you all, gentlemen…our business is thriving in all corners of the country. I urge you all to take this new territory as a challenge…and I’m sure we will soon talk about our success when we next meet here in three months’ said Lo Hsing, delivering the pep talk to his comrades as they all raised a toast. Lao, the silent member, known as the assassin of the mob, didn’t utter a word. He was content to remain busy rolling a joint, as his comrades chalked out the finer details of their operation.

 

‘To the success of our venture, ’ they said in unison, as the clinking of glasses could be heard, disturbing the otherwise quiet atmosphere of The Lizard.

 

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The band was playing reggae music at the college fests. Young hip college goers thronged the fest as they swayed to the pulsating beat. Sarah and her friends were among them.

 

‘Excuse me, Miss, ’ said Pablo in his most sophisticated accent.’ I notice you and your friends are enjoying the music. I’m from a neighbouring college, but I’m not a student. I’m in administration. My friend here is a journalist, though, and we are covering the fest. Would you be kind enough to spare a few moments and a few words with my friend here?’ said Pablo, beckoning Hasan to join them.

 

Hasan was the smoothest talker in the mob. He hurried forward to exercise his silver tongue and his persuasion skills on these young students.

 

‘What if I could show you something that will enhance your music experience. It costs you nothing. Consider this to be my gift to you and your friends. In exchange, you have to answer a few simple questions of mine. It’s for the local podcast. What say…you game?’

 

Every thought in Sarah’s mind was telling her not to fall for such gibberish…but then she was with her college friends… she did not want to look uncool in front of them.

 

‘ The gift first… then we talk’, said Sarah, putting on a brave front. Her friends applauded. It was fest time, a time of fun, enjoyment and merriment.

 

‘Here, try this,’ said Hasan as he handed her a joint rolled with weed. 

 

‘You light this… and pass it all around, ’ said Hasan, sounding generous and jovial.

 

Soon, the young college kids were smoking the joint like a shared secret. Puff, puff, puff. They sat huddled as they passed the joint around. Soon, another joint materialised, thanks to the generosity of Hasan. Sarah’s senses heightened.

 

‘Wow! This is the greatest stuff I’ve ever had. I’m floating, and I can hear the music much better. I’m feeling extremely lightheaded and hungry’ said Sarah as she burst out in a bout of uncontrollable giggles.

Her friends were in a similar state. The young kids found laughter coming easily, and they could talk for ages. They found themselves opening their heart to Hasan, who gently prodded them on. The samosas and the pakoras tasted a lot better. They could consume dozens of them. The reggae music felt like bliss.

 

‘I know where you can get more of this stuff. It’s free, get in touch with me whenever you want to have a good time. Here I’ll give you my number,’ said Hasan. His job done, he beat a dramatic retreat, leaving the kids wanting more.

 

‘Hey, is that you. I’m calling to ask if we can get more of the stuff you handed out yesterday’ said Sarah, cradling her mobile and whispering in an excited tone.

 

‘Sure! But on one condition…you bring more of your friends today. I’m in a generous mood. The stuff is free. You can have all you like’ said Hasan in a victorious mood.

 

Soon, within a month, a sizeable section of the university campus was hooked on cannabis. Youth huddled in groups on street corners, smoking joints, laughing, and chatting endlessly.

 

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Meanwhile, in another section of the town, Khun Sa was hard at work. He was distributing weed to labourers, drunks, vagabonds, dullards, and the unemployed of the city. Soon, an entire town was hooked on cannabis as the stuff was in abundant supply, and most importantly, it was free. A weed epidemic spread throughout the city. Every second person on the streets was smoking the stuff. Some even had the stuff in the privacy of their homes. The five prominent members of the syndicate led by Lo Hsing were in a jovial mood; they had infiltrated this city in record time, and it was not yet time for their appointed scheduled meeting at The Lizard. The authorities soon got wind of it. An emergency meeting was called, and an arrest warrant was issued for the mob leaders.

 

The police swooped down in a raid, led by the Deputy Inspector General of Police, Maxwell.  As the team rounded up the mob and its kingpin, they were suddenly surrounded by an irate, sedated, stoned mob.

        

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‘Maxwell, we will not allow you to arrest these kind people. They mean well. They are serving society in ways your corrupt police force will never be able to’ said a stoned onlooker as he picked up a rod to attack Maxwell, in case he attempted to touch Lo Hsing.

 

‘Pray, tell me how they are serving society, you fool!’ said Maxwell, in mock pity.

 

‘I will let Pablo answer that for you, officer, ’ said Lo Hsing as he signalled his lawyer, Pablo, to address the crowd.

 

‘We are humanitarians, we render a public service of utmost importance. We heal and cure people. What this ignorant officer does not know is that cannabis has many medicinal properties, which you, the wise folks of this city, have experienced. And the best part … is that it’s free. God is our witness when I say that we have not charged a penny for the medicines and treatment we have handed out to the innocent folks of this city…who for years have been exploited by cunning politicians, corrupt bureaucracy, and an impotent police force. I ask you, is it a crime to help your fellow brethren? Is it a crime to administer treatment and medicines for free? Is it a crime to help society? If it is a crime… I urge you…The people of this city to turn us in’ said Pablo in a kind of speech that even Mark Anthony could take a few notes from.

 

A murmur began to emanate amongst the gathered crowd, which soon turned into a yell, and then a stampede, and in a short while, a riot. Police vehicles were set ablaze, and stones were thrown at policemen, who made a feeble attempt at a lathi charge.

 

‘REQUEST BACK UP…REPEAT REQUEST IMMEDIATE BACKUP, ’ screamed Maxwell, as he radioed for help.

 

‘Sir, this call has come for you,’ said a constable as he hurriedly and nervously handed Maxwell the phone.

 

‘Maxwell, get your ass out of there at once, if you know what’s good for you. I’m sitting here with the Chief Minister, and he has ordered that you forget about arresting the gents. Abort mission at once… and that’s an order!’ said the police commissioner as he banged down the receiver, took a long drag of a joint and then passed it on to the Chief Minister, who with with a flick of his fingers put the joint in his lips and inhaled deeply, letting out a stream of smoke to escape his nose and mouth. The smoke was warm and earthy with herbal flavour, faintly tasting sweet, in the CM’s mouth.

 

Maxwell beat a rather rough, bumpy, and painful exit, barely escaping with his life and a cracked skull.

 

The scene at The Lizard that evening was a jubilant one, as the five foremost mob leaders once again raised a toast to their rather sweet victory. The air was heavy with the pungent, sweet-smelling smoke of cannabis.

 

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