Howard Marks' Book of Dope Stories (68 page)

Then he called Abdul to bring a glass of water, and taking a little case out of his pocket, he opened it and took out a small glass syringe; the first hypodermic syringe I had ever seen. Withdrawing the glass plunger, he selected a tabloid from a small tube and dropped it into the syringe, replaced the plunger and drew the syringe three-quarters full of water. Placing a hollow needle on the end of the syringe, he first shook it until the tabloid was dissolved, and then injected the contents into my arm. I will never forget that first injection; the beautiful sensation of ease and comfort; the luxurious dreamy feeling of indolence and happiness which immediately ensued. Every distressing symptom of the fever had disappeared, and I only wanted to sit still in my chair. I was simply purring with content. The voice of the Dr Babu, who was a great talker, was like a gentle murmur, and I saw him through a pleasant haze.

I must have sat there for hours after he had gone, and it was growing dark, and Abdul came in with the lamp, and commenced laying the table for dinner. It was the first meal that I had really enjoyed for some days, and that night I slept well, and awakened fresh next morning.

As the day wore on, I felt not quite so well, rather tired and a little depressed, and I thought that perhaps I required a little more of the medicine the babu had given me the day before; also I felt that I would like to have another dose, so I went over to the hospital and saw the babu. He greeted me with a pleasant smile, and made no trouble about giving me another injection.

‘What sort of medicine is this, Doctor?’ I asked him.

‘It is morphia,’ he said. ‘The most useful medicine in the world.’

The word morphia meant little to me then – of course I had heard about morphia addicts, but I thought I was quite capable of controlling any impulse I might have of making a habit of it, and I thought a few doses could not make such a difference; moreover, the second dose seemed to be even more potent than the first; no doubt he had given me a larger one.

I even persuaded the doctor to give me a syringe and a tube of four-grain tabloids.

After a time I found myself looking forward to the afternoon when the day’s work was over, and I could take a larger dose and lie dreaming rosy dreams; meanwhile I had got in a supply of tabloids from Calcutta.

There were only daydreams, it is true, for I had not yet reached the stage where visions appear while asleep, much less that stage which extremely few drug addicts ever reach, the time when absolutely lifelike visions appear while awake. This stage can never be reached on morphia alone.

After a few months of regular indulgence in morphia I began to feel that to get the same results I had to increase my dose and also that the effect wore off more quickly.

Also, I found that my digestive system was getting out of order, and I was becoming so costive that no opening medicine had much effect. The latter symptom was causing me considerable inconvenience, and I was getting scared. I was using now about four grains a day, injected a grain at a time instead of the four-dose as at first, yet the effect was not so pleasant.

I decided that the drug habit was getting too great a hold on me, and that the time had come when I must give it up; never expecting any difficulty in doing so.

I had heard that morphia users broke themselves of the habit generally by reducing their dose a little every day, until they had given it all up.

I smile at my ignorance now, but then it seemed quite simple, so I started.

Next day I took my usual supply of morphia for the day: four grains, and mixed it in a small vial containing six syringes full of water, viz. 120 minims. I now drew up into the syringe one-tenth of the mixture (twelve minims) and threw it away replacing it by this quantity of water.

Next day I felt all right. ‘Hurrah, it is easy.’

The second day I threw away twenty-four minims and added only eighteen minims of water, thus reducing the quantity of liquid per injection from twenty minims to nineteen minims; the mixture also being not so strong.

Now I did not feel so good. I found my thoughts constantly turning to morphia, and going over again the pleasant sensation I had experienced. This seemed to emphasise my present state. I really felt uncomfortable and rather irritable, and I kept thinking what a pleasure it would be to take a thumping big dose.

Pride and fear made me stick to my intention, and persevere with this so-called system, until I had reduced my consumption of morphia to two grains a day. Beyond this I could not possibly go. I was suffering terribly; I could not sleep, nor sit still, and I was on the fidget all the time. I had a horrible toothache, and I was jumpy and nervous. I could not get a wink of sleep at night, for I would be up half a dozen times walking about the room, as I had cramps in my feet and legs, which I could not keep in one position while lying in bed for more than a minute, before they began to ache again. I felt wretched in the extreme, and I think that the worst symptom of all was the horrible feeling of depression and gloom – so terrible that it defies description. Moreover, I found that every reduction of the dose increased the sufferings, not only in proportion, but probably fourfold, and I had a tolerable idea that what I was suffering then would be only a fraction of what I would suffer when I got down to the quarter of a grain.

I could not stand it any longer, and I injected a whole-grain dose.

Can anyone possibly describe the sensation of relief I felt? I think not; no words possibly could do so. It was simply Heaven, and that is all I can say. I was now thoroughly scared, because I was back on my one-grain doses, and soon I even began to feel that I would like to increase them.

I decided to see the Dr Babu, so I went over to the hospital, where I found he was attending to the outpatients.

I went into his room and waited, and began to think.

I had often noticed a peculiar look in his eyes, when I met him. Sometimes I noticed that the pupils were mere pinpoints, while at other times they were so large as to almost fill his iris. Moreover, I had noticed that sometimes he would be calm and dreamy in his manner, while again he would sometimes be full of life and energy. His moods appeared to change in many different ways.

I remembered the peculiar smile on his face when I told him that I was going to gradually reduce my dose of morphia until I had given it up.

He had enquired two or three times how I was getting on, and each time I had told him of my success he had smiled. I wondered why he had not told me how difficult morphia was to give up; so when he came in I tackled him about it.

‘Sir,’ he said, ‘morphia is a very strange medicine, it is both Heaven, and Hell. It is very difficult to give up, but it can be done.’

Morphia should not be used by anyone for longer than a few months, he told me, because by that time it will begin to lose its pleasant effect, and it will also begin to affect the health, because the action of the drug is continually in one direction.

He told me that he used many kinds of drugs, each in turn; changing over from one to another, using them sometimes singly, and at other times in combinations, so that no one drug ever got too great a hold on him. Each time he changed over, the drug he had been using regained all its old potency and charm when commenced again.

I complained about the binding effect of the morphia.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that is one of the principal reasons why the long use of morphia alone is so destructive to health. Its deadening effect on the bowels and the digestion. Although purgatives are of little use, and, moreover, are dangerous to a morphia addict, there is one sure remedy.’

Then he gave me my first dose of cocaine.

I found the effect extremely pleasant, although I only had a beginner’s dose grain. It was stimulating, and exhilarating, producing a feeling of well-being, of joy and good spirits. Large doses will produce great self-confidence, and absolutely banish every feeling of self-consciousness in the most difficult situations; in fact it will make the user glory in becoming conspicuous.

Cocaine in large doses also has another effect, which I will not describe here, and this effect is considerably increased when certain other drugs are mixed with it. It is a strange fact that although cocaine, in itself, is not an opening medicine when used by any other person, the effect is immediate when taken by a morphia addict whose bowels have become inoperative.

Following the Dr Babu’s instructions, I first mixed up an ounce solution containing one grain of morphia to each twenty minims of water, and another of a five per cent solution of cocaine. Starting with twenty minims of the morphia solution, injected three times a day, i.e. three grains of morphia a day, I reduced the dose by one minim each day, and added one minim of the cocaine solution, until in twenty days I was using no morphia at all, only cocaine. I experienced no inconvenience at all, or craving for morphia, only increased pleasure.

My health improved, and I became so full of life and energy and good spirits, that everyone noticed the change in me. No one suspected that I had been using morphia, they had put the change in me, from the health and spirits which I had when I first arrived to the listless and dreamy stage I had been in for some time, to malaria.

The increased brilliance of my eyes, due to the cocaine, appeared only to be an excessive state of good health and vitality.

I now experienced even greater pleasure from the indulgence in cocaine, than I had experienced when commencing to use morphia; and the fact that I had been able to give up the latter so easily filled me with pride, because in the last week or two I had read a good deal about the drug habit. I was studying a book by an Indian writer, which the babu had lent me.

It is true that I was now using cocaine, instead of morphia, but then cocaine is much easier to give up than morphia. The deprivation does not cause such distressing and terrible symptoms. I had not yet discovered the perfect cure for all drug habits, this was to come later, but just out of curiosity I tried a beginner’s dose of morphia again, and I found that it had regained all the potency and effect that it had when I was first introduced to it.

Cocaine, I found, banished all desire for sleep, and as loss of proper sleep is one of the reasons why the drug quickly ruins the health, I saw the doctor about it.

I had become very friendly with him, and perhaps because I treated him differently from the way most Europeans treated the educated Indian in those days – by affecting to consider them as inferiors – he imparted to me knowledge about many strange drugs and their effects. He had devoted many years to the study of this subject, and it was due to him that I first got my great idea, with which I will deal in succeeding chapters.

He next Initiated me into the art of smoking opium in the Chinese fashion and I found that a few pipes of this, smoked just before retiring, procured me a refreshing and sound sleep, which is essential to the cocaine addict, but is so seldom obtained.

The opium is smoked in a manner which has been so often described in books that I will not say much about it here. Opium has the appearance of thick black treacle before it is cooked on a skewer, over a small spirit lamp, until it becomes the consistency of cobblers’ wax. This is then rolled into a pellet the size of a large pea, and stuck on the pipe bowl with the skewer. When the latter is withdrawn there remains a small hole through the centre of the pellet.

The pipe, which is a hollow bamboo, is then held over the flame and the smoke sucked into the lungs. The effect is extremely soothing and sleep-producing, more so than any other drug, and it is a mistake to think that it produces dreams. When once the smoker is asleep, it is a sound and dreamless sleep. It is preceded by a very pleasant, dreamy state, in which the imagination is very active, and everything appears beautiful, so that even an ugly woman would appear charming.

I found that I could vary my dose of cocaine very considerably, and occasionally I would have a regular binge and then bring myself back to normal with the aid of a little morphia injected. I was again in fine health and spirits, and I was becoming more interested in my surroundings. No one suspected that I was using drugs, for there was nothing about my manner to indicate my habit, especially as during the day I used only small doses.

The Dr Babu was a jolly old soul and fond of female society, and frequently when I went over to his bungalow for an evening, I would find him entertaining some of the prettiest girls in the settlement, and sometimes he had ‘Nautch Wallahs’, i.e. professional dancing girls, giving an exhibition. Sometimes, also, there were other entertainers which I will not describe.

In those days I was very young and shy, and many things easily shocked me.

I found cocaine became more and more fascinating as the doses were increasing and time went on. The small doses, such as are taken by a beginner, will produce only a remarkable increase of mental and bodily vigour, with a feeling of great strength, but without any intoxication, but if the dose is considerably increased, a kind of intoxication, which is quite different from that produced by drink, will ensue, a kind of intoxication which I will endeavour to describe later on.

Underworld of the East
, 2001

C
HEMISTS, PHYSICIANS, PSYCHOLOGISTS
, psychiatrists, politicians and pharmaceutical manufacturers have all searched in vain for non-addictive drugs to relieve pain, to induce sleep and to stimulate wakefulness. This search is based on the false premise that addiction is a condition caused by drugs. When a drug deadens pain, induces sleep or stimulates wakefulness, people develop an interest in using such drugs. We call drugs ‘addictive’ simply because people like to use them.

Our contemporary confusion regarding drug abuse and drug addiction is an integral part of our confusion regarding religion. Any idea or act that gives existence meaning and purpose is religious. Since the use and avoidance of certain substances has to do with prescriptions and prohibitions, drug addiction has two aspects: religious (legal) and scientific (medical). As some persons seek or avoid alcohol and tobacco, heroin and marijuana, so others seek or avoid kosher wine and holy water. The differences between kosher wine and non-kosher wine, holy water and ordinary water, are ceremonial, not chemical. Although it would be idiotic to look for the property of kosherness in wine, or for the property of holiness in water, this does not mean that there is no such thing as kosher wine or holy water. Kosher wine is wine that is ritually clean according to Jewish law. Holy water is blessed by a Catholic priest. This creates a certain demand for such wine and water by people who want this sort of thing. At the same time, and for precisely the same reason, such wine and water are rejected by those who do not believe in their use. Similarly, the important differences between heroin and alcohol, or marijuana and tobacco are not chemical but ceremonial. Heroin and marijuana are approached and avoided not because they are more addictive or more dangerous than alcohol and tobacco, but because they are more holy or unholy, as the case may be.