In my schooldays, I spent my summer vacations mostly with my uncle and aunt, Baabmam and Indupachi, in Honavar, where he was practicing law. Indupachi used to grow her own vegetables in her garden and had lovingly nurtured a small papaya tree besides one or two coconut and mango trees. But during our every visit, it was her delicious papayas that we always looked forward to as I particularly relished them. However, thanks to a local small-time thief called "Kalla Shukroo", we could seldom, if ever, get to eat any. As Indupachi would often say, " Rains and God Shukra willing, you should have no dearth of papayas this season."
Kalla Shukroo specialized in thefts dealing with only horticultural produce like mangoes, jackfruit etc. He would often come to uncle's house with a basketful of tender coconuts, jackfruit, papaya etc.. which he would sell to Indupachi at rock bottom prices, but always not before allowing her to higgle haggle over the price, so. finally when the deal was closed she was immensely pleased with herself for having struck a good bargain, little realizing that the tender coconuts or whatever she had just bought came from her own backyard! Obviously, in his rustic wisdom, Shukroo sincerely believed that it was only just and fair that the first priority for purchasing the stolen goods should go to the poor victim of the theft rather than to anyone else. Besides. Shukroo was happy with the deal too, since with no investment whatsoever, he had been able to make a clean chunk for himself. Baabmam had charged him a couple of times with having transacted in stolen goods. But he had vehemently denied the charge saying, " No, Sahib. In that case, will I ever sell them to you? Does a doctor ever take money from another doctor? " Oh, such professional integrity!
Once, I had seen in the garden a small bunch of four papayas hanging temptingly from the tree and I wanted to pluck them. But, uncle said we would have to wait for them to ripen. Worried about Kalla Shukroo and the fate of our papayas, I asked uncle if there was no way that we could catch Shukroo red-handed sometime. "Splendid Idea!" said Baabmam. "But, how will you manage it? He is such a clever. wily rascal that you won't even know when he comes in and runs away with your papayas." I could be of some help. I thought, since I had some previous experience in catching a mouse, if not a thief. I had once devised an ingenious electric mouse trap, which would kill the mouse by electrocuting it, if he ever visited the trap for a piece of bread, kept in there as bait. But, the mouse turned out to be smarter than I had ever imagined Before entering the trap, he took the precaution of dropping a metallic spoon into the trap thus blowing out the house fuse and then for the rest of the night, he had a field day in the kitchen! So. I instantly dropped the idea of any kind of trap for Shukroo. He certainly had more horse sense in him than a common mouse.
"But how will you ever catch him? Think he will ring the doorbell and wake you up first?" uncle had asked me trying to dissuade me from my fantastic idea. But that last sentence of his really did ring a bell alright! Just a simple burglar alarm would do the trick, I thought. Using a small semi-circular wooden cam, nailed on the lower edge of the gate and a push-button switch (such as one used for electric doorbells) mounted inconspicuously on a wooden post behind it. I quickly made and installed a crude burglar alarm at the gate. Each time the gate opened the doorbell would ring in the house. Yes. I knew the fish would be in the net. after all and I would be able to nab the culprit
The burglar alarm worked wonderfully, except that it made no distinction between an intruder and a normal, bona fide visitor to the house So, every time the bell rang I would rush out into the garden to check if it was Shukroo. Initially, of course, there was much excitement and everyone else in the house would turn up too to welcome the visitor. Indupachi would proudly show off my little 'invention' to the visitors, complete with a live demonstration, while I was getting worried that this undue 'advance' publicity might reach Kalla Shukroo himself! However, with the bell ringing every now and then all through the day. admiration was slowly giving way to murmurs of angry protests that it had become a veritable nuisance.
However, there was still no sign of Kalla Shukroo, although it was now some five days after setting up the alarm. Had he developed cold feet after getting news of my plans to catch him? I knew that if he ever made an attempt to pinch our papayas, it would be in the night. Which self-respecting thief does his act in broad daylight anyway? I couldn't sleep well that night because I had a queer feeling that Kalla Shukroo might strike any time. I didn't have to wait for long though. For, just as I was about to fall asleep, suddenly the doorbell rang once or twice, followed by the sound of the gate banging on its post and then there was a lull. I waited for a while with baited breath to make sure it was not just a dream. Just then the bell rang again and Baabmam called from inside, " Arre, Baboo! Go down and see who that idiot is - coming at this unearthly hour."
So, finally, the moment of truth had arrived. What if it was Kalla Shukroo! What if he had come fully armed with a dagger or revolver! After all. thieves are known to detest being surprised or disturbed in their work and sometimes, they won't even hesitate to kill I had started shivering in my pants. But then, it was a matter of prestige for me. I had given my word to Baabmam that I will catch Shukroo and there was no backing out of it now. So, when the doorbell rang again, I gasped and gulped before I could venture out into the dark night, my feet trembling wildly. I stopped when I was just a few yards from the gate and collecting all my courage, or whatever there was left of it, I stuttered, "' Who—who goes there? ". There was no response, which made it all the more frightening. I didn't know what to do next. Narrowing my eyes, I peered through the darkness and I could barely see the silhouette of somebody crouching down there behind the gate. "Who is it? " I shouted again, the words hardly coming out. This time, however, there was a reply: "HUMMMAAA-- ". It was just a cow trying to push her way through with her horns. I then boldly stepped forward and shooed it away.
It must have been just past sunset, a day or two later, when all of a sudden the bell started ringing again continuously in a loud, nonstop trail of sound, that made me jump. This is it. It's Kalla Shukroo. I thought, as I ran down towards the gate. "Oh, it's that damned cow again." I said loudly, however, to no one in particular. "No, no —it's not cow. It's me, Shambhu Pahilwaan" replied someone at the gate. Even in that dim light, I could make out the figure of a giant-like, lungi-clad man standing there motionless in the gate as if frozen in fear or shock. It was the famous champion wrestler of that time, Shambhu Pahilwaan. who having already managed, somehow, to squeeze through the gate a part of his great body—his left leg, thighs and partly his belly—was now trying hard to get through the rest of it. He had not realized that it was an exercise in futility about just as hopeless as passing a watermelon through a keyhole! Now, to his dismay, he found that he couldn't even give up the effort either and backtrack! The Pahilwaan was stuck in a real jam. He was one of uncle's VIP clientele and although Baabmam had got him out of a few legal jams before, he didn't know how to get him out of the present one.
The doorbell was still ringing merrily and by now it was getting on everyone's nerves. Baabmam had also arrived at the gate concerned for his very important client. "Baboo. I say, why don't you put off that damned bell of yours?" he asked me very angrily. Now. the only switch for the doorbell, which I knew, was the one at the gate, presently situated under two fleshy masses on the rear side of Shambhu Pahilwaan and I for once didn't have any idea of how to reach it! Besides, what must be the condition of a small Bakelite switch sitting so smugly under a weight of some 250 kgs (or whatever a Pahilwaan is normally supposed to weigh) was anybody's guess. Under such excruciating circumstances, I quickly decided to do only the next best thing I knew. I ran into the house and put off the main switch. To everyone's relief, the bell stopped ringing immediately. But along with it the lights had gone off too, plunging the entire household into darkness. There was a sudden burst of hue and cry from all directions. "Put on the lights, you damned fool" said uncle furiously So, I switched on the mains again. Immediately, both the lights and the doorbell came back to life again and so did uncle's angry shouting, this time flavored with choicest Kannada invectives: "No, no. I want only those damned lights on, you stupid xxxxxx. Not that blasted xxxxx bell of yours! Do you get that in that xxxxx brain of yours? ". Thereupon. I switched off the mains again What else could I do?
Our little game went on like this for sometime more, before uncle opted out because either he was too exhausted from yelling at me or he had exhausted his vocabulary of abusive words in Kannada It was then that I got a brilliant idea for stopping the bell. I climbed on a small stool to reach the electric bell on the wall and slowly removed the metallic gong by turning it, while allowing its tiny hammer to vibrate aimlessly in thin air. The sound of the bell immediately dropped down to a mere drone like that of a dull mosquito. Only then. I could dare return to the gate.
` By now, a small motley crowd of some fifteen to twenty people—mostly wrestler's admirers and curious on-lookers— had gathered around Shambhu Pahilwaan, who looked very much dejected, as if he had been badly beaten in a wrestling bout. Baabmam too looked completely drained as if he had just lost an important court case! There was a general commotion going on. with a spate of valuable suggestions coming from all and sundry for liberating the Pahilwaan from his trap. One man suggested that if he inhaled deeply and held his breath while drawing in his belly, he should be able to slide out smoothly. The Pahilwaan said that he had already tried it.
"Why don't you turn around and try coming out sideways'' suggested someone else. "No. no. It's no use, you see, when the cross-section is a perfect circle; it's same size in all directions", said one math teacher. " Why not call the Fire Brigade, instead? They always find some way of rescue.'" "No, no. That's not necessary. Do you have some rope?"
"Rope! What will you do with a rope?" shrieked the great wrestling champion in considerable alarm. "Oh, I was just thinking you could tie it around the waist and then all of us together can pull you out" "Wait a minute. I have a better idea. Guruji, why not try —"
"HOLD IT! Hold it. all of you. Will you all please listen to me first?" said the weary Shambhu Pahilwaan now almost in tears. "You see, I can get out of here on my own and I don't need help from anybody. But, I am afraid."
"Afraid! Of what! I just can't believe it. "
"Well, I am afraid that I may damage your gate."
"Oh, don't you worry about the gate. So long as you can set yourself free!" assured Baabmam.
Whereupon. Shambhu Pahilwaan twisted his body slightly, gave a smart jerk and with a loud crackling
sound, the gate crashed to the ground along with its supporting post, compound wall and all.
Next day, as I was just lazily loitering about in the garden brooding over the previous night's events. I saw the smashed gate and parts of my burglar alarm still lying there scattered around on the ground. I had set out to catch a thief in his act. but had ended up with only a wrestler in my 'net'. I had certainly not planned it that way. But, whatever happened to our Kalla Shukroo? He had completely slipped out of my mind in the previous night's excitement! I went into the backyard and looked up the papaya tree.
All the four papayas were gone!
(Published in Kanara Saraswat in March 2002 )
