A THEFT UNREPORTED

The train was in time.  I had reserved my seat well in advance. It was a comfortable window seat. This journey was very important to me. This could be a turning point in my life. My interview for a prospective job was scheduled for the day next. I could have started up early the next day and reached; but I decided to go a day in advance as I considered it necessary to have enough rest and a sound sleep before I face the Board of interview. I was to appear before the Staff Selection Board. The Board would have five members in it to conduct the interview. Unexpected questions could come one after the other from any one and therefore I was well prepared. I had been thorough on the current events. I had done a lot of home work on all the subjects that were expected to come up. I had referred to various guides to know how an interview would be conducted and what could be the possible questions. My preparations had gone well. I was ready to face the Board. I would have to establish my credentials regarding my qualifications and previous experiences. I had all that and much more than what was prescribed for the job. I had put all my certificates neatly in a well secured folder, in an orderly manner. One had to only move through the pages, like that for an album, to view the certificates. The folder was a little big in size to accommodate some larger certificates too. It was difficult to put the folder in the small airbag that I carried for a day’s stay. Even otherwise, I thought it wise to keep the folder in my hand itself so that it would be safer than the bag, which I was likely to keep away from my person. Even if the bag gets lost, the certificates should be with me. That contained the final output of all my efforts and all that I gained and saved thus far.

As the train moved on, I began to concentrate on building up my confidence by re-playing in my mind whatever preparations I had been through for the last few days. I had completed almost a good lap of my journey when I felt the natural call for urination. Should I carry the folder with me or leave it on the seat? I thought for a moment and then decided on the later. It would be awkward to carry a folder while going to the toilet. It would take only a few minutes. I could afford to leave it on my seat, as the train was moving fast and no one could possibly take it out and get away from the train. Otherwise also, who would need my folder? It was, after all, a reserved compartment with only a limited number of people in it. I felt ashamed for being over suspicious on people. Who could be interested in your certificates man? I asked myself. I thought of giving a word to the man seated next, but he was in a very sound sleep. Let him. He would get annoyed, if I wake him up. All these thoughts crossed my mind, as I left the folder on my seat and went to the toilet.

The moment I started urinating, I felt that the train had suddenly reduced its speed. Might be that the next station was approaching. I had to be fast and reach back to my seat before the train could come to a stop. But my bladder seemed to be full and I could not stop the urine flow in between. When I came out after finishing, the train had already stopped in a station. Some of the people were coming out from their seats to get down from the train. Some got annoyed for blocking their way as I rushed through the narrow passage to my seat, while they were eager to get out fast before the train moved.

To my horror, I found that my folder was not there on my seat. I looked down on the floor and nearby to see whether it had fallen accidentally. No, it was not there anywhere. I looked at the man next. He was still in his slumber. I had only one hour more journey to reach my destination. But what purpose was there in finishing the journey with out the folder? I didn’t know what to ask and whom to ask. I glanced through the compartment to see any one or any thing suspicious. Every thing seemed normal for all. None even bothered to look at my desperate face. And then I heard the long blowing of the whistle for the train to move. I had to think fast. I had to act fast. I felt sure that some one had picked up my folder and got down from the train. Or it could be that some one from the platform took away the folder through the window. I felt sure that the folder was not in the compartment. It could only be with some one outside. In a quick move, I took my bag from underneath my seat and got down at that station.

Standing on the platform, I looked all around me and through the people moving out. No sign for any hope. The tail end of the train was also leaving from my sight. I sat on a bench and thought whether I should put up a complaint with the railway authorities or the police. That would be of no use. I kept watching the people who remained on the platform even after the train left. Then I saw a boy in dirty clothes crossing the rail at the far end of the platform. He was carrying something in his hand. By seeing the size of it, I got a doubt that it could be my folder. I ran to the end of the platform to see clearly what he was carrying and where he was going. By the time I reached, the boy had returned running with nothing in his hand. I became suspicious. I caught hold of him and asked what he was carrying. In the split of a second, I had the feeling that someone was staring at me as I held the boy. Without answering, he jumped away from me and ran off. He ran so fast that I could not trace him to where he disappeared. I looked at where I felt the glance on me came from. A man was standing there alone. As I looked at him, he took away his eyes from me, kept on an indifferent face and looked distantly. Might be he was wondering why I caught hold of the boy.

As I sat on a bench in dismay and without knowing what to do, I kept a watch on the man. I did not know why. But somewhere in my mind I had a feeling that he could be of some help to me. I badly wanted to share my misfortune with some one. Might be someone could give me a lead, if only I talked. Might be this man could be of some help. As I looked at him, I found him staring at me again; but looked away when my eyes met his. Was he expecting me to talk? Looking at him, suddenly a suspicion began to creep up in my mind. Why was he staring at me when I caught hold of the boy? What is his interest in watching me again and again?  Why was he standing there alone for such a long time and not leaving the place at all. Was he watching my moves? I got suspicious of him.

I went to him. I could see a surprise flashing on his face as he looked at me for a moment. But, quickly he gathered himself and kept on that indifferent and distant look. My suspicion began growing. Why was he not looking at me or enquiring to me as to what I wanted from him? I was so close looking at his face, where as he was ignoring me and trying to remain aloof.

I decided to talk. I said that I lost a folder from the train and that it contained all my certificates. I told him that there was no money in it and the person who got it would have no use with that folder. I paused to see his reaction. Was he deaf to remain so indifferent even when I talked? No emotion over his face. Even a deaf man would try to show that he was deaf. But this man was standing like a post, unruffled of his surroundings. Suddenly it dawned on me that this man could be a lead. I had to make him respond.

Quite blatantly, I told him that I was ready to pay all the money I had if he could return the folder to me. To my astonishment, the man slowly changed his posture and looked at me intentionally for the first time. I felt that I might get a good thrashing or scolding if my judgment of him went wrong. I had already lost everything and I was ready to accept anything.

His gaze penetrated deep into me. Then he asked quite casually as to how much money I had on me. That was the only one simple question for which he wanted an answer. Nothing else mattered to him. My suspicions became confirmed.

“A little above three thousand rupees”, I replied promptly. I was lying. I had another two hidden in an inside pocket of my pants which could be accessed by me only after going to a toilet. I had been a victim of pick-pockets before and that was a measure I resorted to for overcoming such exigencies.

I emptied the inside of my pockets in front of him to make him believe. Again he gazed at me deeply. He told me to wait on a particular bench till he returned. “Let me find out whether my boys have got it. But meanwhile, do not tell any one. Or else you would never get them back”, he warned.

He was back in twenty minutes. My folder was in his hand. I gave him all the money I had in my pocket and requested him to return some for my stay and travel. I was trying to reduce the cost for tracking my folder. He was generous to return some money for my travel. As for stay, he said that I could very well sleep on the platform as they all do. Before leaving, he was magnanimous to give an advice too. “You should learn to keep your things safely while traveling”, he said as if to justify his actions. Probably, he himself must have picked it up and passed it over to the boy, thinking that it might contain cash. It was not easy for a boy to pick it up from my seat.

The mental torture I underwent on losing my folder was much more than the tension I carried on thinking of facing the interview board. The incident taught me to take things to my stride. It was immaterial now whether I got the job or not. I could always try for another. I had received all my certificates back. I was not going to be perturbed by anything. The next day, I was sharp in time for the interview. With exuberance brimming in my heart, I entered the room to face the board. And yes, I had slept soundly in a comfortable room on the previous night.

                                            ---------------------------------------------