THE INTRUDER - A Short Story
"Are you sure you saw him sir?" asked Vineet Singh the Superintendent of police. Colonel Ramesh Kumar looked at him with some scorn, "Of course young man, I know I am a retired man seventy years of age but my reflexes and eyesight are still as sharp as that of a young man. Did I tell you that I was part of a team which trained the Mukti Bahini fighters during the liberation war of Bangladesh?" Vineet sighed. He knew that this was going to be difficult. But the higher ups had told him to give his best to Colonel Ramesh. This eccentric retired soldier was loved by all in this small town. "You mean to say that you saw an intruder in your room at 4:30 a.m. And that he was barely a few feet away?" Colonel Ramesh looked at Vineet with contempt, "Yes, my dear young man," he said, " I saw him the way I can see you. Only it wasn't as clear as it is now. But I could make out he had a flashlight with him which threw dull light in a very limited area."
As a young major Ramesh had been part of a team which trained the Mukti Bahini, the dreaded resistance fighters of erstwhile East Pakistan who were fighting for an independent Bangladesh. Ramesh's proficiency in Bengali, thanks to a few teenage years spent in Calcutta, had made him an automatic choice for this posting. He remembered how he had taught those young Bengali boys the various tricks of keeping themselves alive against the odds. And they had indeed done well. They were a terror to the Pakistani units in their area. Ramesh remembered the wave of joy which had swept through the Mukti Bahini boys attached to his unit when the Pakistani General Niazi had surrendered to the Indian General Aurora at Dacca.
Of late there had been a spate of robberies in their neighbourhood. Two elderly couples had been killed. This had set of a strange kind of fear in Ramesh's mind. Initially he was amused by his fears. But he realised that they were not unfounded. Acute angina and failing eyesight, which he refused to admit, had made him like a six year old boy. He felt ashamed at his lack of physical prowess. He had thought of getting a revolver and keeping it under his pillow at night. But he had finally decided against it. He was scared he could end up killing someone he knew just because he was tense. But he also knew that his house attracted a lot of attention because of the way they maintained it. His wife Vimla had an obsessive compulsive disorder as far as cleanliness was concerned. She would scream at the domestic help if there was the slightest amount of dust anywhere. The gardener Ram Singh was also terrorised by the old man and his wife. Ramesh thought of his neighbours who were financially much better off than him but who lived such disorderly lives. He had nothing but contempt for these bloody civilians, as he described them. But luckily, they left him and Vimla to themselves.
He would often wake up at 4 a.m. The play of light on the dining room floor was something he could see while lying in bed. Very often, on such occasions, he was fairly sure he saw someone standing near his bedroom door. He had initially thought that it was a thief. Then he started thinking that it was the Swamiji his mother used to go to for guidance and solace. His mind also told him that it could be the spirit of Ram Singh, his seniormost non-com who had got killed in Dacca due to a foolish and avoidable mix-up. He had always felt guilty about Ram's death. He knew he was responsible for it. Just before he died Ram had looked at him in the eye. It was as if he had been saying, "I wish I had given my life for something better. I expected better judgement from you Major Sahib." The higher authorities had ensured that Ram got a bravery award posthumously and that his wife and kids were financially secure. The incident was hushed up in the euphoria of victory. But there was a deathly silence in the battalion about it. The troops had stopped trusting Ramesh after Ram's death. Ramesh had got a Vir Chakra for his exploits during the liberation war of Bangladesh. That he did not become a general as his father expected him to is another story.
As he had told Vineet he was sure that someone with a flashlight had entered his bedroom. He had seen this person moving silently and gracefully across the room. Ramesh had not made a move because he did not want to risk his life for a few thousand rupees. He and Vimla had kept the little jewellery they had in the bank's safe deposit locker. They were very particular about not keeping large amounts of cash at home. He had kept lying silently in bed as the intruder went about his task of checking the items in his room. After an interminable wait of twenty minutes Ramesh heaved a sigh of relief when the intruder made to leave the room. It was then that the mobile phone kept on his study table started ringing.
The thief stopped in his tracks and started moving towards the phone. "Oh no," said Ramesh to himself. His son had changed his mobile phone number and Ramesh had not saved it in his cell phone and he had not written it down either. Ramesh wanted to get up and shout and scare the miserable fellow away. But he was concerned for Vimla's safety. Luckily for him the intruder decided not to pick up the phone and he made towards the door. He vanished in a few seconds. Ramesh had rung up Vineet at eight in the morning. Vineet joined Ramesh and Vimla for a cup of tea at eleven in the morning. After going around the house Vineet did not find anything. He also felt that the old man had become paranoid about his safety. He had finally gone back to his office after assuring the Kumars of their safety and advising them to adopt a few security measures. Vineet remembered his father's younger brother who was also a retired Colonel. But he was a greater eccentric than Ramesh. Handling Ramesh was child's play after interacting with him.
It was a few days after this incident that Ramesh woke up with a start at four in the morning. He felt that someone was in the drawing room. He got up and tiptoed towards the drawing room. When he reached there he saw a young man drinking from a bottle of his favourite Scotch. He was about to shout at him when he saw that it was Ram Singh, his brave non-com from the sixties and seventies. "Arrey Ram, kaisa hai tum?" he said with happiness as he moved towards him with outstretched arms. He had waited so many years to meet Ram Singh
The Police Commissioner was very angry.Superintendent of Police Vineet Singh could see that very clearly. "But Sir," he protested, "I had told him to be careful. I had told him not to take any chances. I was sure that he was prone to hallucinations. That earlier incident when he said he had seen someone move around his house in the dead of night with a flashlight. I am sure it was a hallucination. I had checked everywhere and did not see any sign of entry, forced or otherwise." Vineet paused for breath. He wanted to make sure that he conveyed all the facts, "This was a case of forced entry Sir, the culprit had made his way in through the French window in the drawing room. We have caught him Sir, and it is a matter of time before we extract a confession from him. Sad to say that it was his ex-gardener who did this. A young lad by the name of Ram Singh. He says the Colonel had once scolded him very severely because the roses hadn't flowered properly and he was very angry about it. The old man had a short temper, which hid the many good points he had. And you know how hot headed these young village lads are Sir." Vineet looked at the front page of a local newspaper kept on his desk as he spoke to the Police Commissioner who was sitting in his office at the district headquarters. The headlines screamed "Retired Colonel and his wife stabbed to death by ex-gardener. Robbery motive suspected."
--------------------------------------------------------------
My next short story:
Two young schoolboys in 1969 Mhow want to impress their science teacher with an innovative idea. One of them thinks he has got it. A Gem of an Idea
My previous short story:
As a young major Ramesh had been part of a team which trained the Mukti Bahini, the dreaded resistance fighters of erstwhile East Pakistan who were fighting for an independent Bangladesh. Ramesh's proficiency in Bengali, thanks to a few teenage years spent in Calcutta, had made him an automatic choice for this posting. He remembered how he had taught those young Bengali boys the various tricks of keeping themselves alive against the odds. And they had indeed done well. They were a terror to the Pakistani units in their area. Ramesh remembered the wave of joy which had swept through the Mukti Bahini boys attached to his unit when the Pakistani General Niazi had surrendered to the Indian General Aurora at Dacca.
Of late there had been a spate of robberies in their neighbourhood. Two elderly couples had been killed. This had set of a strange kind of fear in Ramesh's mind. Initially he was amused by his fears. But he realised that they were not unfounded. Acute angina and failing eyesight, which he refused to admit, had made him like a six year old boy. He felt ashamed at his lack of physical prowess. He had thought of getting a revolver and keeping it under his pillow at night. But he had finally decided against it. He was scared he could end up killing someone he knew just because he was tense. But he also knew that his house attracted a lot of attention because of the way they maintained it. His wife Vimla had an obsessive compulsive disorder as far as cleanliness was concerned. She would scream at the domestic help if there was the slightest amount of dust anywhere. The gardener Ram Singh was also terrorised by the old man and his wife. Ramesh thought of his neighbours who were financially much better off than him but who lived such disorderly lives. He had nothing but contempt for these bloody civilians, as he described them. But luckily, they left him and Vimla to themselves.
He would often wake up at 4 a.m. The play of light on the dining room floor was something he could see while lying in bed. Very often, on such occasions, he was fairly sure he saw someone standing near his bedroom door. He had initially thought that it was a thief. Then he started thinking that it was the Swamiji his mother used to go to for guidance and solace. His mind also told him that it could be the spirit of Ram Singh, his seniormost non-com who had got killed in Dacca due to a foolish and avoidable mix-up. He had always felt guilty about Ram's death. He knew he was responsible for it. Just before he died Ram had looked at him in the eye. It was as if he had been saying, "I wish I had given my life for something better. I expected better judgement from you Major Sahib." The higher authorities had ensured that Ram got a bravery award posthumously and that his wife and kids were financially secure. The incident was hushed up in the euphoria of victory. But there was a deathly silence in the battalion about it. The troops had stopped trusting Ramesh after Ram's death. Ramesh had got a Vir Chakra for his exploits during the liberation war of Bangladesh. That he did not become a general as his father expected him to is another story.
As he had told Vineet he was sure that someone with a flashlight had entered his bedroom. He had seen this person moving silently and gracefully across the room. Ramesh had not made a move because he did not want to risk his life for a few thousand rupees. He and Vimla had kept the little jewellery they had in the bank's safe deposit locker. They were very particular about not keeping large amounts of cash at home. He had kept lying silently in bed as the intruder went about his task of checking the items in his room. After an interminable wait of twenty minutes Ramesh heaved a sigh of relief when the intruder made to leave the room. It was then that the mobile phone kept on his study table started ringing.
The thief stopped in his tracks and started moving towards the phone. "Oh no," said Ramesh to himself. His son had changed his mobile phone number and Ramesh had not saved it in his cell phone and he had not written it down either. Ramesh wanted to get up and shout and scare the miserable fellow away. But he was concerned for Vimla's safety. Luckily for him the intruder decided not to pick up the phone and he made towards the door. He vanished in a few seconds. Ramesh had rung up Vineet at eight in the morning. Vineet joined Ramesh and Vimla for a cup of tea at eleven in the morning. After going around the house Vineet did not find anything. He also felt that the old man had become paranoid about his safety. He had finally gone back to his office after assuring the Kumars of their safety and advising them to adopt a few security measures. Vineet remembered his father's younger brother who was also a retired Colonel. But he was a greater eccentric than Ramesh. Handling Ramesh was child's play after interacting with him.
It was a few days after this incident that Ramesh woke up with a start at four in the morning. He felt that someone was in the drawing room. He got up and tiptoed towards the drawing room. When he reached there he saw a young man drinking from a bottle of his favourite Scotch. He was about to shout at him when he saw that it was Ram Singh, his brave non-com from the sixties and seventies. "Arrey Ram, kaisa hai tum?" he said with happiness as he moved towards him with outstretched arms. He had waited so many years to meet Ram Singh
The Police Commissioner was very angry.Superintendent of Police Vineet Singh could see that very clearly. "But Sir," he protested, "I had told him to be careful. I had told him not to take any chances. I was sure that he was prone to hallucinations. That earlier incident when he said he had seen someone move around his house in the dead of night with a flashlight. I am sure it was a hallucination. I had checked everywhere and did not see any sign of entry, forced or otherwise." Vineet paused for breath. He wanted to make sure that he conveyed all the facts, "This was a case of forced entry Sir, the culprit had made his way in through the French window in the drawing room. We have caught him Sir, and it is a matter of time before we extract a confession from him. Sad to say that it was his ex-gardener who did this. A young lad by the name of Ram Singh. He says the Colonel had once scolded him very severely because the roses hadn't flowered properly and he was very angry about it. The old man had a short temper, which hid the many good points he had. And you know how hot headed these young village lads are Sir." Vineet looked at the front page of a local newspaper kept on his desk as he spoke to the Police Commissioner who was sitting in his office at the district headquarters. The headlines screamed "Retired Colonel and his wife stabbed to death by ex-gardener. Robbery motive suspected."
--------------------------------------------------------------
My next short story:
Two young schoolboys in 1969 Mhow want to impress their science teacher with an innovative idea. One of them thinks he has got it. A Gem of an Idea
My previous short story:
Vandana is thrilled that it is she who has been chosen from among the many pretty women inmates of Prem Ashram to become Prem Guru's sixth partner,'wife' and partner in saturday night's Kama Puja... read about it in
© Dev Kumar Vasudevan., all rights reserved.
In case you missed...
© 1998-2008 Copyright Sulekha.com Connecting Indians Worldwide, All Rights Reserved.
Recommend