The Right Type of Sweets!

“Sridhar Sir, when you eat the right type of sweets you won’t get diabetes. Eat the wrong one, you’ll get a lot more than the insulin-dependent disease.”

The time was close to midnight. I struggled hard to stifle a yawn. A young police official was talking to me on board the super-fast Pandyan Express.

I loved the young man who should at least be half a generation younger than me, whose face was bright, and eyes sharp.

I wanted to extract a few story–leads from him. The last thing I wanted to hear was some health tips.

I could not have not known at that time that I was going to hear about a real life incident, as fascinating as the hardware engineer’s story.

Chinniah was a party worker. He was affiliated to a political party because he admired the local leader.

He belonged to the lower middle class. He had a daughter to be married off. He did not earn much. But whatever he earned he spent a little and set aside a decent sum for his daughter’s marriage.

Over years his savings reached the magic figure of Rs.1 lakh.

Afraid that the money might not be safe in his small house in the extension area he gave the money to his party leader for safe keeping.

His trust in his leader was complete.

Two weeks later he found out a boy for his girl. Chinniah was very transparent. He told the boy’s side he would give his entire life-time savings of Rs. 1 lakh to them.

How to split it between dowry, jewels and marriage expenses would be their botheration.

The boy’s side eagerly agreed.

Chinniah ran to his party leader with a packet of sweets. He told him the happy news and wanted his money back.

“Which money?”

Chinniah’s shock was so much that he had a mild chest pain.

“Sir, the money I gave you sir. About two weeks ago. My life-time savings sir. My only daughter’s marriage is fixed. And if I don’t get the money then there will be no marriage, Sir. My girl will kill herself, Sir. Sir, please, have mercy on me. Please..”

“Chinniah, whenever I get money from people like you for safe keeping I issue a receipt. Come on show me the receipt and get back the money.”

Chinniah was gasping for breath. When he gave the money to him the leader had asked,

“Are you that mean to insist on a receipt from your own leader?”

“Not at all” Chinniah had so proudly declared on that day.

“Of late you have started forgetting things. Should be because of age. If you want money for the marriage I can give you Rs.5000. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I have to go now.”

The leader got into a Pajero vehicle along with his coterie and disappeared from the scene.

Chinniah was now actively contemplating suicide. How could he face the boy’s side?

The marriage would have to be called off and there was little chance he could marry off his daughter to somebody else, as this would be a great shame on the family.

He decided to take up the matter to Police. There was a half-chance that there might be an honest officer who might help.

When he met the young inspector, when he saw his clear face and fearless eyes, Chinniah broke down. He fell at his feet. Amidst sobs he told him what had happened.

There was no way the Inspector could proceed officially. First there was no evidence.

And even if there was one like a receipt, the issue would be classified as a “civil matter” and the only recourse available would be to file a law suit.

“If nothing could be done we will have to kill ourselves, Sir.”

The Inspector sought three days’ time to resolve the issue. And during those three days he used all his spare time to trail the party leader.

He now had a clear plan in his mind.

On the fourth day he was in the city’s large park where the Leader would come for a morning walk.

Around 6 AM the leader walked into the park all alone, as was his practice. The Inspector trailed him and when they were in a secluded spot he pounced upon him and snatched his mobile phone.

Then with the help of two other constables the leader was brought to the station. He was kept in the lock-up with no means of communication to the outside world.

Agreed, the leader was powerful and could even destroy the Inspector. But once arrested and deprived of all means of communication, he could not do much.

He was now at the mercy of the Inspector.

After letting him suffer in uncertainty for an hour the Inspector visited him in the lock-up.

“Listen. It’s a simple deal. Call your home. Ask somebody to bring Chinniah’s money. You will be free. I won’t book any case.

"But if you refuse then I will charge you under half a dozen sections. Your photograph will be there in all the Evening newspapers. You can as well kiss your political career goodbye.

"Yes, you may eventually win the case. And even have me transferred. But the damage can’t be undone.”

The Leader thought for a while.

“Ok give me my mobile.”

“You tell me your wife’s number. I’ll call from my mobile and give the phone to you.”

‘Smart guy’, thought the leader.

The Leader’s wife came running to the Police Station with a lakh of Rupees. The leader was released.

Chinniah came at 8 AM. The Inspector gave the money to him.

Chinniah fell at his feet once again and gave the money back to him.

“Sir, you have given my life and honour back to me. It will be an insult if I attempt to reward you. The entire money is yours. Take whatever you want and return the balance to me.”

If the Inspector was moved he did not show.

He thrust the money in the man’s pocket.

“Go and celebrate your daughter’s marriage. All else can wait.”

Even then Chinniah was hovering around the station for another two hours. He had to be forcefully evicted.

That night Chinniah went to the Inspector’s house. He had a parcel in his hands.

He told the Inspector in a choked voice.

“You should at least accept the sweets. Otherwise my conscience will kill me.”

The Inspector relented.

“Sridhar Sir, I, my wife and my kids enjoyed the sweets. I have never tasted something so delicious. You know the sweets were packed with the love of a poor man. They are of the right type. Won’t give you any health problems.

“The same man gave sweets to the Leader when he first told him about his daughter’s marriage and claimed his money.

"The Leader denied the money. But he did not return the sweets. He should have eaten it. Now that was of the wrong type - wrapped with a poor man’s curse. The Leader is sure to have diabetes and other ailments, if he does not have them already.”

Thank God all the lights in the train had been switched off.

Otherwise the Inspector would have doubted the sanity of the mofussil accountant who was shamelessly crying on hearing a story from his case-file.