The Unusual Suspect

She looked distraught while chatting. She was tense and was worrying so much as if her complete world had split into pieces. So I thought it was my Dharma to call her to find the trouble. As a nice citizen, I dialed her number.

Me: Hi, what has happened?

Her: Oh nothing, I am a little tensed.

Me: Why so?

Her: Someone has stolen my and my friend’s purse.

I thought ‘that’s it’ but I did not have courage to utter these words so bluntly. So I continued.

Me: Oh I am sorry, what has happened? Where did it happen? How much money did he steal?

Her: It was stolen from the office when I was having my lunch. Our drawers were open but no one was there when we went for lunch. It contained almost 2000 INR.

So much drama for 2000 INR, what the heck, but you cannot show your rude emotions while talking to girls.

Me: yar, this amount is not even good enough to take so much tension.

Her: Mr, It is almost 25% of my salary. So it is a huge amount for me.

Me: Okay then, why don't you go to the management and ask them to catch the culprits?

Her: It will not help and I do not want to ruin their lives.

Me: Are you mad?

Her: Why?

Me: You must take some action to catch the thieves so that they will be discouraged and they will not even think of repeating this in future. Your silence will provide them the courage to repeat this again.

Her: But management will fire them.

Me: Culprits must be punished.

Her: Okay, I will try something.

The discussion was over with her commitment though I was convinced that she would not do anything except sitting idle and hoping for a miracle to happen assuming "Someday someone would face the heat for their acts". Days passed so as weeks. It was almost a month when we talked last time and I almost forgotten the incident.

One day on chat she announced she almost found the culprit and would get her money back soon but she would not take any action once she gets her money back. I was curious and stunned. So I called her right away to know the details. I was sure the culprit must be a housekeeping personnel who does not get enough wages for survival.

Me: So how was the journey? What did you do?

Her: I went to HR to find out the Cash Card Numbers so that I can track them further.

Me: What are you talking? What cash cards?

Her: Arre, this person did not take any money from my purse. He took the cash cards which I got during some events conducted in my office.

Me: What the heck? You were so tense for gifted money.

Her: Yes, is there a problem? Do you want to listen or not?

I made faces as she would not see them but to calm her down I continued.

Me: Okay madam, go on.

Her: Once I got Card number from HR, then I thought to visit the stores which accept such cards. Luckily number of stores was less. First I went to Pantaloon and told them the complete situation and asked them if someone had used the card (with exact card number) there. I repeated this same stuff in 10 more stores with no luck. 12^th store in the list was Life Style. I thought to try my luck there as well. So I went there and repeated my story 12^th time. After completing the story I requested them to check their Database if someone had used those cards. It was quite a tough task to convince these store people to provide me such information. All of them resisted but a few checked and looked into their database. At Lifestyle it was easier to convince the people and found this information. They searched in the database and found the entry. Ladies stuff was bought using the cards and cards were signed by my senior person. I got the details of the shopping. Though I was not still convinced that my senior had stolen the cards and used them here but I had proofs. I looked at the list of items and remembered these items were purchased by my colleague, who sits next to my desk, and showed it to me 2 days after the theft.

Me: He He He, She showed those items to you.

Her: Yes, She did. I asked my senior if he had shopped from lifestyle in near past and as per my expectations he denied. I was sure who has taken the money. She who had stolen the money before going home. This is the same lady who was crying about losing her wallet when I told her about the theft. I called her and asked her. She denied again and again but I was sure. She told me "Sir had given her the cards and she had given him the equivalent money". I had reasons to invalidate her reasons on the spot. I told her, that I have reached the police and lodged a complaint against her. But she was still persistent in her denial. Now I am waiting for her to come back to office and then only I would be able to get my money back…

Me: Awesome!!!! Great work.

After few more days she pinged and told that the thief would come in couple of days.

This complete story is not all about the money that she had lost or she will recover. But it is more about the fight she had put to find the culprit and blacken her face.

I do not know the way to eradicate such activities from society but finding such culprits and showcasing their acts to others can help all of us. Along with that it will change the notion regarding people with lesser wages (As in my case I was sure that this some housekeeping person has stolen the purse.). My friend's work was appreciable and such incidents must inspire all of us to not sit back in such cases but instead we must take some actions to find the guilty and bring them to justice.

Happy Republican Day

I woke up in the morning with the loud voice of a speaker playing a well known and an everlasting patriotic song "Yeh Desh hai veer jawano ka.". The very first thing that hit my mind was, wow it is a national holiday and I do not have to wake up at 8 o'clock and rush to the office right away. I can stay on my bed as long as I want.

Time moved on and several loud speakers started yelling the same old songs. It was similar to all radio channels started playing the same song and you do not have a choice but to listen to it until and unless one of them took a chance to change the theme of the day.

It is the Indian Republic day. 63 years back, on the same day our constitution came into force and the Indian people got their rights and freedom in their hands which were in British empress hands. Most sections of the constitutions were taken from the British constitution. Dr Ambedkar and Sardar patel were instrumentalist of our constitution.

Due to the increasing intensities of loud speakers’, it was nearly impossible to nullify the voice of the speakers showing patriotism for first and last time in this year. (Once in a year is still better than never.) To please their parents, children were singing patriotic song and praising Bharat ma. Patriotism was in the air just outside my balcony door and I was trying to find ways to keep this air away from my room. But all the efforts were in vain and I had to give up my sleep.

After few moments one society, whose ground is visible from my balcony, hosted the Tiranga and flag hosting was preceded with the chants of our awesome national anthem, written by Bankim Da, “Jan Man Gan…” Our anthem brought me on my feet and it gave me a momentary satisfaction of being an Indian.

Momentary, why was it momentary? Moment of satisfaction was preceded by the moment of dissatisfaction. I was happy at one moment but at very next moment gloom shaded my happiness. Then an inner struggle started to figure out the reason behind such contradictions in mind.

These contradictions are usual for every Indian who loves his country. Whenever we talk about governance, policies, people, roads, buildings, infrastructures, securities, education, economy, business, industry, growth and more, we talk about their negatives. Even if we try to figure out the positives, we end up finding a thousand negatives in compare to a few positives. It is more than 65 years when British people left Indians but still we blame them for our current miseries. In any patriotic event, we curse them as if they are still holding our chords and making us act like a puppet

In 65 years our governance has not improved a bit. Government still introduces policies to widen or exploit the differences of different segments of society. Corruption is still looming. Growth is part of minor segment of society whereas other bigger segment has been neglected completely. In those gloomy moments I could have found other reasons to hate India more.

On the contrary I started wondering is this all I got from India. Not really, I know why I stood up on my feet to acknowledge the respect for my country. It was not all because of miseries around me but it was due to the respect for my country. I respect my country because it has given me struggling powers, indisputably it has taught me to fight, it has given me morality, and it has given me the combined understanding of hundreds of cultures. What else do I need to live my life? A human being does not need luxury to live the life happily. All he needs is the knowledge and fighting powers. All these qualities are pumped into us by our inheritance, culture, and society then our country deserves a huge respect from us.

There are problems everywhere and I had been part of these problems in one way or another. Sometimes I have faced them, sometimes I have created them and most of the times I have exploited them so should I blame the government for leaving those loopholes or should I try to take right path and ask others to follow the same?

Koi bhi Desh perfect nahi hota, use prefect banana padta hai.

Autobiography of an illiterate MCP

My name is Brij Kishor Chaturvedi, my fellow mates and officers call me Kaidi Number 603. 603 is a special number, do not you know it? No!!!! Okay let me elaborate. As we all know 420 is associated with evil so as 786 is with god. 603 is middle of these two numbers so this number implied my existing between evil and got i.e. a man, just a perfect man in the imperfect world. You must be wondering, either I am too crazy or philosopher. But believe me I am just a farmer, who has been counting his days to judgment day.


How did a farmer, an image of devotion, sacrifice, labour, purity and sincerity, end in prison? It is a long and tragic story; you will neither believe me nor appreciate my efforts to keep the pride of male community. I have not either copied or pasted my story but it looks dramatic and filmy.


I was in love. Please please, I do not want to hear a farmer, an image of blah blah. I also have a heart; which can fall for someone sweet, adorable and lovable and my heart fell for my own wife. Though she was a teacher and I was almost illiterate, but there were a lively attachment between us. Though my love was boundless but there were fights between husband and wife. We used to flights for individual's right. I am a male and In Indian society a wife is dust of his husband's feet and I wanted the same respect from her. But instead of appreciating my love for her, she tried to dictate and force her commandments on me. Our culture says husband is the religion and devotion for the wife. But my life/wife stopped hearing the advice from other villagers. All villagers were jahil and Ganwar for her. She argued about the changed world, does not she know the world cannot change till we/men change it? She escaped from Nari Dharma with the excuse of her tiredness and busy schedule. She did not allow me to sleep with her "because I was illiterate" and according to her my breath was bad. Neem ka Datun was not good enough to brush my teeth; she wanted me to brush my teeth with Angreji toothpaste. My father died without holding my son in his hands because my wife did not find any difference between daughter and son. She did not want someone to carry our name in this world/country/state/village. Her decisions kept deterioration our relationship every day. My daughters started calling me Unpad Budhdha. One such monstrous day in rage, unexpected and unprecedented event happened and I was awarded the capital punishment for killing my own daughters. I argued with judge and told him the necessity to take such steps to set an example which will help in preserving the honour of Male society. But idiot and literate judge said "Shut up, you illiterate and idiot MCP". Hmmm, MCP, some big term I suppose.


Here ends my story about love and sacrifices to maintain the decorum of the male society.
Jail's environment is not as it is shown in the Bollywood movies. Most of the people coming here do not have a killer instinct. Most of them do not have muscles, fame and money. Their bones are ready to jump out of skeleton cage. They are filled with darkness, humiliation, sorrow and bitterness of their conducts. They weep when they receive letters from their families. They cry when they meet to their lovely families. Though we get food thrice a day but still no one gains any weight. We work hard but our muscles do not improve. Lots of Sipahis, holding old and rusty guns, whistle and parade around us. An idiot Jailer keep shouting and frowning over us.


Here in jailhouse I have comrades who were involved in murders, thefts, robberies, rapes and many other heinous crimes but no one is innocent like me. Everyone has been penalized for his own crimes but I was punished for keeping the esteem of the society. A convict, who was self acclaimed Don, salutes me every day. As soon as I wake up, he walks in-front of my cell, salutes and shouts MC. MC is another big word I learned here. Other remaining prisoners are scared of me. They do not have the courage to stare or look at me or talk to me, but they frown due to jealousy. Though I feel alone but their fear fascinates and strengthens me more to keep them away forever.


My honey did not even visit once to meet me or to find out my conditions in the lock up. She denied hiring a reputed counselor to save my life or to appeal further. I heard people gossiping about my wife and me. I think she is going out with someone else and she will move to another village soon. I should bag one hour from police inspector at the name of male community and murder this bitch who is dishonoring the custom of our great society. I still love her but I cannot let her ruin our honor and pride.


I have seen people coming and leaving the cell. Everyone brings a new story to discuss. We all old in-mates gossip about the new talent and appreciate his courage if he has done something significant. One day one more guy entered the prison. He looked innocent but he was awarded capital punishment next Monday. Nobody knew his story, he was a quiet man. He did not even talk to his cell mates. He was finding solace in his own solitude. This was the first execution in the jail.


It was Sunday. I saw lot of changes in the environment. Police force was increased significantly. Media persons increased the chaos outside and tension inside the premise. Everyone was talking about the upcoming hanging. All other prisoners were trying to figure out the story behind our new companion and reason for such huge media coverage. Lots of people were not able to eat even a single piece of bread. We were not taken out to work. Activities around new prisoner’s cell were increased. Other two in-mates of the cell were adjusted in other cells. Everyone was tense, unhappy and panic-stricken.


Day passed in horror and hustle-bustle. Hanging was supposed to commence at six AM in-front of all the prisoners. At five o’clock he was taken out of his cell. He was trembling and chanting “Ram Ram Ram” interminably. He was not able to walk due to shaking in his legs, instead of walking he was hanging on the guards carrying him. His eyes were filled with tear, horror, fear and terror. Unlike yesterday, today he was shaved and was dressed well. According to his last wish, he heard the Bhagwat Geeta for one hour before leaving his cell. He must be trying to reduce his sins down at last moments of his life.


Media people were mocking the death scene and were telecasting the death as “Breaking news”. Instead of sympathizing with a human, their remarks were filled with hatred. There were glimpse of insanity and inhumanity in their eyes. Their eyes were dry and emotionless for 50 year old chap, who would not exist anymore with-in few minutes.


The ground was filled with people. Executioner had taken the podium and for the formalities purposes he was checking if everything was working perfectly fine. There were at-least 50+ soldiers who were around the podium. Cameras were setup around the podium to take the nearest possible shot of stretched neck. Jailer, doctor and jury members were in the front row. We all were standing behind them and we all were the spectator of something painful. There were few of us who had to face the same punishment within some time and our heart was sinking and pounding hard.


Soon, our latest in-mate was brought into the ground. He was still hanging over soldiers arms. He was uncontrollable, he was screaming, he was pleading, he was weeping and he was shaking. When we live then we pray for death and when death is so near then we always wish to live little longer. He was shouting that it was devil who acted at that moment but no one seems like listening to him. Judge was busy checking time in his wrist watch, hangman was busy in tie the rope, jailer was busy analysing the environment, and doctor was taking his equipments out of suitcase.


He was taken to podium and he peed there. Everyone gave him a disgusted look except me and few others who have the similar destiny. He was not concerned about the urination act, he was not concern about the disgusted look, he was just trembling and shouting in horror. Executioner tied his hands, put a black cloth on his head and tied the rope around his neck. His shaking increased which was even evident from the last row.  Clock in the ground clicked, judge’s arm went down, and trigger was pulled. Very next second a body was hanging in air, it was weltering like fish taken outside the water. It felt pain for little more time but after 2-3 minutes of pain, it was all over. The pain, the shaking, the fear, the terror, and the rest were over. The man and his sufferings were over. Doctor examined and after confirmation the group left the premise.


The hanging body was yet in front of my eye but it was not the person who died it was I who was hanging over the rope. Pictures, voice and talks of my sweet daughters flashed back to my mind. I was not sure about anything other than death.

Note: This story is complete work of fiction and is inspired by an article published by Hindu by George Orwell.

Mystery prevails

I had been waiting for this trip for last 4 years. Everything was planned and things were on time. As per the plans I had to leave office at 5 o’clock, reach home at 5.30 and pack my bag by 6PM and reach the bus stand by 7. I reached home, door was locked, I unlocked it and entered. I started collecting the required things in huge backpack. I kept my clothes, camera (Oh camera was not there, no issues I still had time), more clothes, towel, tooth brush, paste, soap and camera, but my camera was still untraceable. I searched, searched more and searched harder but could not find my camera. So I called my mom.

Me: Camera Choda kya mene? (Did I leave my camera at home?)

Mom: Nahi beta. Kya hua.(No, What happened?)

Me: Kuch Nahi, Mene kahin to rakh diya hai, mil nahi raha hai. (Nothing great, I just misplaced it.)

Mom: Tujhe kisi chis ka bhi dhyan rahta hai, 300$ ka camera tha na. (Can't you keep your things attentively? How costly was it? Was not it 300USD?)

Me: Nahi Mummy, 200$ ka hi tha. (No, it was just 200$)

Mom: 8000 Rs/- Akal nahi hai, 8000 ka nuksan kara diya. Ab to flight se mat ana is bar, train mein hi ana. (Don't you have some mind? It is huge loss of 8K INR. Don't take flight to come home this time.)

Me: Mummy train mein 44 gante lagte hai. Mein nahi aa sakta. (Train takes 44 hours so I can’t afford this much time in train.)

Mom: Mat aa fir. 8000 rs ka nuksan kiya hai tune. (Do not come, it will compensate 8000 INR/-).

Oh man, My mom did not know the actual cost (1000 USD), otherwise It would have been more than one tiring journey of train. 

Nobody came in, nobody went out. All doors were locked and all windows were tightened from inside, then where did my camera go? Everything was in place, my laptop, my computer, my iPad and iPhone were not even touched but my camera worth 5 home trip was not there. Strange, is not it. Things were pointing to a theft. Due to lack of time, I could not investigate much and ran to catch my bus.

I was late again but this time I was only 10 minutes late to reach to bus stand. I inquired about my bus scheduled for 7 PM and I was amazed. My bus had already left, Only God can save India. Indians have stopped using IST(Indian Standard Time - Start at least half an hour late than the schedule time.). This increased the heat of my anger and frustration. I called my mom back and told her about missing the bus.

Me: Bus miss ho gayi (I missed the bus.)

Mummy: Kahan Ja raha tha? (Where were you going?)

Me: Bataya Nahi mene (Din't I tell you?)

Then why am I telling it now? Oh man, face it now. 

Mummy: Nahi (No.)

Me: Ladakh ja raha hun, Himalayas parvat. (I was going to Ladakh.)

My mom's voice was toned down.

Mummy: Himalay kyon beta? (Why are you going to Himalaya, son?)

Oops, what does my mom think about me? Oh man, I should correct her without wasting a single second.

Me: Arre Brimhachari banne nahi ja raha, Ghumne ja raha tha? (Not going to become sage? I was just going for passing some quality time)

Mummy: Acha, thik hai kitne ka nuksan hua? (How much did you lose?)

Me: Jyada nahi. (Not much)

I cut the phone before mummy could increase my period of exile. I searched the whole room, kitchen, hall, second room and house again but could not find the camera. I lost hope of getting my camera back and started living more cautiously. Few of our keys were missing. Though we did not have any idea about the burglar but we assumed someone must have found our keys and used the same key for stealing my camera. To eliminate further attacks all locks were replaced.

After silence for few days, thief hit us again. This time someone stole my Sudexo coupons worth 2200 Rs/-. What an idiot? He did not take anything other than Suxedo coupons. Investigations revealed that one key was lost. I doubted my maid so I fired the old one and hired a new maid. Locks, better and secure, replaced the older ones.

Things were fine for few days. But one day my old Sony phone was not in the drawer and some of my keys was missing for last 2 days. Was the missing key creating the trouble for me? I did not know it. So this time cook was targeted and changed. But there were not any respite from these lifts. More small things were picked without leaving any clues.Approaching Indian police was not a nice idea. Karnataka police was already burdened with Ijjat stealing and heart stealing cases, so burdening them with material stealing case was not appropriate. 

One day my room-mate moved out of the house to some unknown friend's house. He is not in house for last 10 months.

For past 10 months 14 days, Neither any key nor any item went missing from my room. Was it a fear in thief's mind, or was firing the cook/maid or was bringing better quality lock made our life better? We are still not sure about it but I have a request to the thief, please return back my khandani watch gifted to me by my dad at the graduation time otherwise how will I tell my son "Beta yeh mere papa ko unke papa ne graduation clear hone par diya tha".