The story of a thief who wants to steal but has no desire for the money, rather revenge. |
The Deal The night was dark; ominous gusts of wind filled the unwelcoming air and the cries of wolves could be heard from the distant forest. A man walked on a winding path in the village of Pokhri in Gujarat,. The village comprised around 15 huts and a school. At this hour, the village seemed deserted, like a town long forgotten, lost to the sands of time. But the man walked on; looking for something he didn’t recognize but instinctively knew that it would be there. The man was a thief: he wore a black turban, and he had tied a napkin around his mouth. He wore a black shirt and a black ‘loongi’, a traditional Indian dress. He had a vertical scar next to his right eye which was so badly stitched up that it looked like a train track. He was almost invisible due to the cover of night, and this was precisely the reason he came out at this hour. He had a knife, which would be of use now and had been of use many times in the past. He walked on, his destination close by, according to the map in his left hand. He had found it! He saw the village headman’s house, the most ostentatious of all the houses in Pokhri. There was certainly a lot of money in there! Enough to keep him happy for his entire life. He mentally went through his plan again, then summoning all the confidence he could manage, he broke through the window. Waiting inside, was someone he had never expected to be there. He saw the face of a man, a face that had long haunted his nightmares. The man was dressed in a suit, as if he was expecting such a formal meeting to convene at this hour. The men had lived through different childhoods, and their appearances as well as characters were in stark contrast; one seemed like a thief who was on his way to his biggest loot while the other seemed rich, dignified and like a diligent worker. The man who had entered thought of his achievements, how he rose in the guild of thieves to become the leader of all of them. The other had studied in the biggest university in the state to become a well-known economist and politician. He thought of the implications of the arrival of the thief and although he was expecting him, he had nothing to say now. They were both respected in their respective areas of expertise, and were both haughty. They both showed the same ambition and desire for fame, the hunger for power and money, through different means albeit. They both could influence the masses to follow them. But they were speechless right now. Abruptly intruding on the other’s thoughts, the thief finally said that he had come to ransack the house. The other man said, “Yes, but you know that now this is out of question now. You wouldn’t want to steal from your own house, would you now?” the thief stared into the deep brown eyes of the man, whose face looked exactly the same as his. The thief said, “It would have been my house if I wasn’t removed from the house thirty years ago, brother. But father thought that I was weak, not comparable to you although we looked exactly the same! It was just a stroke of misfortune that our mother happened to drop me when I was little and caused me this-“and he stroked his scar, like he had done many times in the past. “Give me a reason not to ransack the house which abandoned me when I was helpless.” The brother thought for a full minute and said,” Is it true that you were removed from the house as a child for no fault on your part?” “I cannot tell you the pain I have suffered because of this scar, and the many nights I wonder of what could have happened to me if I had lived in this house. I just want a normal life.” A lone tear formed in his eye, supported by none other when it slid across his coarse cheek. “I will speak to father-“ “You will speak to NO ONE!” he screamed, and the tear quickly dissolved on the furious face. “I have wasted my entire life while you sit here, enjoying the lion’s share of our father’s wealth.” “Okay, I thought we could reason this out, as I heard that you were going to steal this place tonight, and I could talk to you about a deal I am about to offer you. I will give you half my inheritance once father has passed away.” “How much does he have?” “A crore, earned through swindling the poor in this village.” “Where is it?” “All of it? Inside the casket our mother is supposed to be lying in.” “Okay. I will be back when God comes to collect him.” The man turned his back to collect his belongings. The thief opened up his turban where his knife lay hidden. One slit through the neck, and the white suit was doused in a pool of blood. He left for the grave of his mother. On the way, he thought of his brother. He was really never dropped by his mother; he had gotten that scar in a drunken brawl. He had run away from his house. He knew that if his father came back, he wouldn’t get any money. So he had to kill his brother. He felt nothing of the deed, just another job which had to be done. He reminisced about the similarities between and him and his brother. Then, he considered them, and wondered if his brother was a liar too, and never really intended to give him the money. At that precise moment, he reached his mother’s grave, and wondered if there actually was money in the casket. He dug it up, and brought it out. He carefully took out the case, and curiously, but hesitantly peered inside. And then, he sighed. |