Food for Thought

The topic I'm going to bring up right now is so powerful that it can embarrass all of us and make us introspective simultaneously. The moment I thought about this, I started looking at all of my belongings in a different way, with a different perspective altogether.

Let's talk about human nature. Most of us say that we want to do good to others, donate money when we grow up etc, etc. All of us think of an angel residing inside us. But when I thought of this for long stretches of time, I realized that although we may do petty works of charity, we still live for ourselves, for our satisfaction. Evolution has made us greedy.

You must have heard about Charles Darwin's Theory of Survival of the Fittest. During this long race of evolution commencing millions of years ago on our planet, only those who are the strongest, can survive. If an organism is strong, it means that it is capable of escaping from danger. Thus, we come to know that those who can save themselves on time are the ones who survive.

Eventually, man started thinking more and more of himself and his need to survive. Fulfilling his desires, his ambitions, suddenly became his sole aim in life. And that's how the nature of greed is embodied inside all of us. Is this right?

The children of today (which also include me), pester their parents to buy a particular video game for them, or  some music album, or another expensive touch-screen watch. Have you noticed that expensive has become the new cool?

Such a thought came into my mind when I saw someone buying Ralph Lauren sunglasses worth ten thousand rupees. Would a pair of sunglasses worth five hundred bucks given us less protection from the blazing sun?

What if we look at the poverty in this world. Many people often talk about this topic, talk about how they want to abolish it. Many people work as hard as they possibly can and still can't feed their families well. These are the people who are looted by the government leaders and the business magnates and capitalists. Their money is hoarded in large amounts by the government. And what do they get in the end?

What I mean to say is that the money wasted in fulfilling our greed for expensive items can be utilized for much better results, which will benefit you in the end. I'm not saying that we shouldn't buy expensive things. If there is a need for them, then no one's stopping you. What I want to make all of you aware about is that when cheaper and qualitative counterparts are available, why buy the costly ones just because they're 'cool'?

I hope you don't misunderstand me. Just now, much debate arose regarding the Mars mission launched by India. According to sources, its budget was 70 million dollars. Many people said that this money could have fulfilled the requirements of the economically weaker. However, they fail to understand that this spacecraft was sent for a purpose, not for showing-off to the countries (well, we aren't sure, are we?)

No one says that the money used in the films could have been put to use in a better way. Do you know that the budget of the movie Gravity is hundred million dollars, which is more than that used in the Mars mission? Can you tell me which one has a better use - the Mars mission or Gravity (movie)?

In the end, I would like to say that money doesn't make us who we are. It is our personality which truly defines us.

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 10

The woman in heels, Tia, now sat on the sofa and told us our story.

‘As I told you, I was in the organisation at one time; my older sister was against this decision the whole time. 

'I couldn’t cope with it, I couldn’t oppose my sister. But the problem is, you can’t quit once you’ve joined, so that the secrets don’t leak out. When they came to know the motive for my departure, they killed my sister. Now they are after me. That man I murdered in your lawn, he was the assistant of the head. He was following these two men throughout their journey.’

‘And you were following me, weren’t you?’

‘Well, yes. I, err, wanted to talk to you.’

‘No need to freak me out, then. When is this head of the organisation sitting as a judge in the court?’

‘His next hearing is tomorrow.’

I spoke up, ‘Not a moment to lose. Let’s prepare for it. Let’s bring it on!’

The next morning, the four of us – Uncle James, Ralph, Tia and me – were seated nervously in a taxi, in the disguise of journalists. Two of us had a notepad in our hand and a pencil tucked behind our ear, one had a camera in hand, and the fourth person had a mic with the name of the news channel imprinted upon it.

The taxi parked, we paid our fare, and entered into the place where the hearing was to be conducted.

After twenty minutes of looking into evidences, questioning and defending, the judge declared, ‘I  hereby announce that Àaron Abano will be hang-‘

Our friend Tia couldn’t contain herself any longer, for she got up fiercely and shouted some words which won’t look good written here. The whole court paused, absolutely silent. Tia continued, ‘This person is innocent, the one who is guilty is the judge. Juan Pedro, you are caught. You’re doomed.’

The police edged closer towards Tia. She rolled up her sleeve, and on her arm was tattooed the name of the organisation amidst speared heads and spilled blood. I was aghast, my mouth wide open.

Pushing people aside, the former member of the scandalous organisation forcefully rolled up the sleeve of Juan Pedro, the head of the organisation, and on that arm was tattooed the same symbol.

The policeman understood something was wrong. ‘What’s going on? What’s this symbol?’

‘It’s of a criminal organisation which has survived in our mist and has been executing people since time immemorial.’ I, too, was angry now. This is the man who killed my beloved father. He will have to be punished.

I got up, my fists clenched. Somehow, Ralph and Uncle James knew I was getting violent and out of control. They held me back. Juan Pedro would meet his fate, sooner or later.

And he did. Juan Pedro, the man behind the biggest crimes of the century, was awarded one death sentences for all the death sentences he had declared. JUST. ONE. DEATH. SENTENCE.

THE END

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 9

On hearing about my father’s murder, my suspicions were confirmed and I was surprised in the least. I replied, ‘I knew a crime was being committed. And see what happened. My father and Ralph’s brother, both were murdered.’

‘Then you had wondered about its perplexing features.’

‘Why did this murder happen, Uncle?’

‘This organisation is brutal, in all sorts. It implements crimes, you can say. The person who wants to kill a particular person approaches this organisation, which charges the person large amounts of money. The murder is committed in the court, by sentencing the hapless person to death.’

‘But Uncle, how come you know such details? Do you know someone from inside the organisation?’

‘Research always helps, my boy. I studied the evidence in your father’s case. It was too obvious, and made it absolutely clear that your father was the criminal. However, if you ask me, if a criminal can commit a crime, he can also remain careful and make sure that the evidence doesn’t point towards him.

‘In your father’s case, the evidence was too obvious that it was clear that somebody else placed that evidence there after the crime was committed. Your father was innocent. A member of the organisation had committed the crime of which your father was accused and placed evidence pointing to your father. My 

brother was trapped in their web.

‘However, the court didn’t emphasize on the evidence, for the judge himself was the head of the organisation. Beginning to end, their victim is doomed.’

‘What had my father done to deserve this fate? Why did evil overcome the good?’

‘Your father had come to know of that organisation’s criminal nature and would have disclosed their secret if not for his murder. It happens such to the good. They die early. That’s why we mourn them. Because they die early…’

‘But Uncle, there must have been more people who would have lost their lives to this cold-blooded organisation.’

‘Yes! My sister, she had a fate no different!’ A tap, tap sound came from the direction of the open window. A tall woman in heels walked up to us and stood nervously.

‘Who are you? That was sudden,’ my uncle inquired, fidgeting.

‘I am Tia. I know who the head of the organisation is. I know where he is and I have the proof regarding his felony. For I was the member of the organisation, once.’

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 8

The Range Rover braked to a halt in front of No 13, Cameron Beeches at 5 in the evening. The sun was just about to set, and No 13 stood sheathed in silence. There was a knock on the door.

A short, bald man with a beard opened it and smiled with an air of care, but etchings of anxiety were, nonetheless, visible on it. ‘Ah! Pat, my boy! So good you arrived!’

‘Greetings, Uncle James. This is my friend and acquaintance, Ralph White.’ I leaned forward and whispered, ‘his brother was wrongly hanged.’

‘Nice to meet you, Mr White. My brother shared a fate similar to your brother’s. My nephew must have told you that?’

‘That’s how we met, Mr Calverton. In fact, we were on our way to Madrid when you called. We were looking forward to meeting you. However, we are grateful to solve your problem first.’

All of us entered the house and took our seat on the sofa.

Uncle James spoke. ‘This morning, I was chilling out in my bed and having a cup of tea, when I heard a muffled scream. It seemed trivial and unreal when I heard it for the first time, but when it recurred, I strode outside into the garden and found… I found a dead body.

‘I was shocked, so I started off to do a bit of investigation. My bench was in a shattered state. One plank of the bench was kept just beside the dead body. On looking closer, I sensed and smelled blood on it. This made me look at the dead man. He had died with his head smashed in (pity, I tell you). So, of course, the obvious assumption was that he had been murdered by this plank of my bench.

‘I looked around in the bushes, hoping to find some evidence. I found out some queer footprints, which on closer observation turned out to be those made by heels. This clarified that the murderer was a woman. The matter was growing more and more serious, while I was growing rather tense.

‘I started walking to the police station, hoping to find a taxi in the way. To my surprise, a taxi voluntarily stopped in front of me. I was in a hurry, and I had to get inside. Maybe it was a coincidence, but surprisingly again, the driver was a woman. My eyes hovered over her seat.

‘You know what I found? She was barefoot. It was pretty obvious. Isn’t it difficult to drive in heels? She had no other option than to remove them. This was the same woman. I wish I had deduced these details beforehand; I wouldn’t have let her go. However, the situation was so tense then that I even forgot to note down the number of the taxi.

‘So till here, it has become clear that someone has been following me.’

‘I am awed at your deduction skills, Uncle.’

‘Forty five years as a judge made me get acquainted with the functioning of criminals and detectives alike. 

This was the benefit. Anyways, what made you come here other than to protect me?’

‘Well, Uncle, I wanted to talk about my father.’

‘I knew one day you’ll wonder about it, Pat. Then I must tell you. Your father, my brother, Joseph Calverton, was murdered.’

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 7

‘Who gets to breathe such clean, fresh, pollution-free air in the busy streets of industrial London?’

The road to Madrid was paradise. As much as it was a mission for us two men to fulfill, it showed itself as a holiday. The air renewed our tired lungs and the blowing air whispered in our ears and massaged our skulls. It was a refreshing journey.

However, the tension still inhabited the air, causing our faces to turn around intermittently to spot any person who might be following us. 

I was the driver and was enjoying driving the amazing SUV while the task of keeping a watch was assigned to my friend. There was a constant smile on my face throughout, which was quite the opposite of the expression which adorned Ralph’s face.

Ralph’s hand flew to the back of his neck, slowly pressing it. His mouth was making aah and ooh sounds while his pain was relieved.

‘Don’t forget to look backwards, forwards, sideways, in all directions!’ I warned.

‘If you think this is so easy a work, Mr Patrick Calverton, you should do it yourself. It’s actually a pain in the neck.’

‘Whatever.’

‘Oh yeah? Stop the car. I’m driving. I bet you should experience what I was doing the past few hours.’

In the next few hours I found myself trying to find an excuse so that I could get myself out of the position of constantly turning my neck to look for a culprit. Fortunately, my non-attentiveness did bring fruit.

I was looking around myself for an object which might give me an inspiration for inventing a believable excuse. Scanning the interior of the car carefully, I caught my reflection in a small circular lens hidden behind the rear-view mirror. I came to my senses.

‘Aha!’, I shouted. ‘Until now we have been getting that neck pain for absolutely no reason, there’s no reason to look behind. Here the culprit is hidden in front of us. Presenting… a spy camera!’

‘Search! There may be more.’

He stopped the car and we looked around, but failed to find another. We had no option other than continuing our journey.

‘Now, Pat, not a moment to lose! Remove the camera and throw it outside!’

I made a face in front of the minuscule camera and finally threw it into a pile of dog poop.

After a couple of minutes, the ringing phone interrupted my amusement. I slowly received the phone, squeaking, ‘Hello?’

A frantic voice spoke on the other side. ‘Pat, my dear! I’m your Uncle here. I think someone’s following me, I feel a bit in danger. I need you, my boy. Arrive here as fast as you can!’

The car raced on at an increased speed of hundred and twenty kilometres an hour.

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 6

I opened my eyes the next morning with my mind completely occupied with the memory of yesterday’s incident. How and why were such fishy things happening all at once? Firstly, the face of the taxi driver was extremely familiar. Secondly, the taxi was a stolen one, although it had been returned to its previous owner. The water in which the fish was swimming was very obscure, indeed.

So, naturally, I decided to ask Ralph regarding his views.

‘Hey, Ralph, remember the taxi which drove us here yesterday?’

‘Yeah, I guess. Why?’

‘Did you see the face of the driver? Wasn't it a bit seen-before types?’

‘Why, of course not, Pat. Where had you seen him before?’

‘In the last taxi-‘ I stopped mid-sentence, realizing where I had seen that face before - I hadn't even met Ralph when I took the taxi from my house to the theatre, and that’s where the man appeared for the first time. The blood drops on the dashboard were as clear in my memory as fresh water. Divulging the details to Ralph, including those of my encounter with the owner of the taxi the previous day, I asked what he could make of it.

‘Well, one thing, Pat, you have to make sure you aren’t getting hallucinations or something, ‘cause this is like drama in real life. You have given me a very good idea for a play.’

‘I can assure you that these happenings are as real as me. Are we in danger, Ralph?’

‘I don’t know, Pat. All these things are so curious that the result can be stranger than ever. Who knows? We may even die. However, I think – ‘

‘Yes? What do you think?’

‘Calm down, boy. I think that someone may be following us, or maybe you. If you saw this person twice in different taxis, he may have followed us all the way here, to Barcelona. Remember the footprints near the theatre?’

‘I think you’re right. We have to be cautious. Otherwise anything can happen.’ Pin-drop silence overtook the room after that. I was overwhelmed by a queer feeling. What would happen after this? Would we be able to succeed in our mission? Only time will tell.

‘It’s time!’ yelled Ralph.

‘What?’

‘Time we leave for Madrid. We have to reach your Uncle’s house before evening. Don’t want to wake him up at night, do we?’

‘Definitely not. If we’re too late, we might not be able to see if anyone’s following us, you know, because of the darkness.’

‘So come with me, Pat. Come outside.’

Outside, resided the coolest, shiniest, most adventurous of all vehicles – a Range Rover. ‘Ralph White, you are the best man I ever got the privilege of meeting.’

‘Let’s race on, then!’

A Scandal of Sorts - Ch 5

We walked out of the plane into the heat of Barcelona. A few minutes later, we had taken a taxi and were on our way to Hotel Gloria. I took out the Spanish dictionary from my bag and asked the driver in Spanish, ‘How much time to the hotel?’ The driver turned around. I had seen that face before. I skidded through my memory searching for the solution. Where had I seen him? The face looked familiar. Where?

‘Just a couple of minutes, sir, and you’re there.’

Before I could ask him where he was from, he halted the taxi in front of the hotel, and drove off really fast. Strange, I thought. Something wasn’t right. Did the taxi driver pick me up from the airport on purpose, so he could know my whereabouts? That is justified from the fact that he realized that I saw something familiar in his face and drove off before we could even pay the fare. Let’s get to the bottom of this, I thought.

The next morning, I rode to the taxi headquarters in the city and inquired about the taxi, whose number I had observed when the circumstances seemed curious to me. The manager there showed me the photograph of the taxi driver. Surprisingly enough, the man’s face differed from the one I had seen in the taxi. The taxi must have been stolen.

‘Did this man, the taxi driver, come to work today?’

‘He surely did. Why are you asking?’

‘Nothing. Did he come yesterday?’

‘No, mister, he was on leave.’

‘That explains a lot.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I told you, nothing. I’m new here, you see. Just wanted to know how this system works.’

Before the man could ask another question, I walked out of the office. ‘Taxi!’ I called. I looked at the number. It was the same number which I had been inquiring about! I got into the taxi and told the driver, who wasn’t the one I had seen before, my destination, thinking, I will not lose this chance. ‘Did anything strange happen yesterday? With the taxi?’

‘Why, sir?’

‘Just answer.’

‘I don’t know if it was indeed, but yesterday evening I looked out the window and noticed that my taxi wasn’t there! It had vanished! I didn’t seem to notice it right then. Afterwards, I thought about it and looked at the driveway. It was there, safe and sound. Just a trick of the eyes, I guess.’

‘A trick of the eyes, don’t think so. But a trick? Yes, indeed.’