When someone’s pocket is picked, say in a bus, your basic instinct is to check your own pocket to reassure your money is safe. Or, if a bag is missing in a train, you immediately look under the seat to ensure that your bag is intact. Similarly, strictly between us, when I heard of the theft in Oak, my immediate reaction was not to ring up the poor guy and ascertain the extent of loss. Instead, we hurried to the nearest bank with all our earthly belongings to open a locker - a post-relocation task that had long been pending.
Speaking of lockers, I have only good memories of them. Decades ago, it is one of these very lockers that brought me The Luck of My Life. People normally go on a treasure hunt, but in my case a treasure found its way into my locker. Yes, a solid jewel box, heavily loaded. And, disregarding any disastrous complications such ill gotten wealth could get me into, I shared the news with readers of Hindustan Times. Here it is yours for the asking - for a long-weekend reading.
Luck of My Life
(Hindustan Times, 23 Nov 1983)
Some people strike it rich in a lottery, others in a jackpot, and yet a few in matrimony. But I made it via a treasure box. Here is the true account of it.
I earmark Saturdays for doing errands – going to Karol Bagh to buy coffee powder, to avail myself of any ‘clearance sale’ that is on - or to fix the wall-clock glass broken by my son attempting a Kapil shot, indoors.
That particular Saturday I had three jobs in hand. First, to take out the jewellery from locker in a Karol Bagh bank (my wife wanted to wear it for a marriage the next day). Second, to meet the share-broker in Connaught Place, to see if the shares he had me buy in bulk a few months ago with great promises, were selling anywhere near par. Third, to collect the colour photos I had taken of my sister-in-law’s marriage, making my debut at photography.
Since the bank would close at 12 noon on Saturdays, I listed the bank job first, and headed towards Karol Bagh. I opened the locker and slipped my hand in. What little things we had kept were all safe there. But as I dug deep into it, I chanced upon an antique jewel-box that was definitely not ours. I took it out, It was locked. It was heavy, and when I shook it, I could hear the rumblings of pearls and diamonds.
Hitherto I had heard of items being removed from one’s lockers, but never of a thing being added. Anyway, this is not the time to waste on self cross-examination. I must hurry home to see the contents. Telling myself so, I cancelled the other jobs and drove home straight, at a speed I had never ventured earlier.
On the way I estimated the worth by its heaviness, and decided on my plans. ‘Come what may, I must go for a house in a posh locality. A car comes second. Then a colour TV (a few inches bigger than those of both my neighbours), and a VCR. If I am still left with sufficient money, maybe I could buy four identical necklaces for my two sisters and two sisters-in-law, and a slightly costlier one for my wife.’
‘Anyway, God is great. If he denied me promotion the other day, he has more than compensated for it in another way.’ “After all’, I asked myself, ‘how could the good deed that my grandfather had done years ago in feeding 1000 Brahmins (Sahasra Bhojanam) in a row go unrewarded? Surely not.’
I reached home, and sent Arakkaani, the maid, to a far off shop in the locality to fetch a difficult-to-get item. My wife was at a loss. I asked her to close all doors and windows and to draw the curtains. She grew suspicious. Then I unfurled the straw mat on the floor. That left her with no doubt. She shouted, “No nonsense, whatsoever.”
“Calm down dear, can’t you think of anything better? See what I have brought for you. I didn’t want the precious items to spill on the floor. Hence I spread the mat. You get it?” I told her.
Then I showed her the treasure that had found its way into our locker. Seeing it, she began to laugh uncontrollably. I had known of people falling unconscious at such a windfall, but never of getting a laughing-gas effect.
‘Maybe, it is a little too much for her to bear, being of a tender heart,’ I suggested to myself, and began to calm her down, as her laughter could attract the attention of neighbours, and they might see us with a treasure box in hand, if not the mat spread wide, curtains drawn, laughing merrily...
A few minutes later she regained normalcy, and said: ‘I forgot to tell you. The other day, before leaving for Madras on vacation, Leela (my sister) gave me that jewel-box for safe-keeping in our locker.’
‘Be that so, but you don’t have to laugh like that.’ I told her, trying to retrieve my supremacy. ‘Anyway, don’t broadcast this to Sonu or Babbu’s mothers (neighbours), okay?” Ordering her so, I rushed to the bank to take out her jewellery for the marriage, only to find the bank already closed.
V V Sundaram
Maple 3195
09 Sep 2016
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