The Coin Thief

Business was slow at the Antique Mall. Gul sat at the cash register and checked the large lobby clock for perhaps the tenth time that afternoon. Then she checked the monitors, one reporting the activity in each of the six long aisles of dealer display cases. It was only by accident, by the glint of light from a high window, that she saw that the glass top on one of the cases was open.

Gul threw aside her magazine and raced down aisle four. Like all the other display cases, the one from Antique Coins and Medals was always kept locked. Except for now. Gul examined the broken hasp and the dangling lock. Had it been an accident? Or had the hasp already been loose, inviting a curious shopper to lift the glass and get a closer look? Or had it been a robbery? Just from looking at the display, it was impossible to tell if one of the pricey coins or Civil War medals was missing.

Gul kept cool. She refastened the lock as best she could, then returned to the front. The dealer who owned the broken case was out of town. Gul had no option but to call the police.

An officer arrived on the scene to find Gul at the front desk. Three shoppers were in the lobby, looking inconvenienced but cooperative.

"They were the only people in here," Gul whispered. "The only customers I've had all afternoon. After I called you, all three of them tried to leave. I explained that there might have been a robbery and that they had to stay here until you came. Since then, no one has left the lobby. I've done my best to keep my eye on them, just in case there was a thief and he tried to ditch the stolen object."

"Good work." The officer was impressed by her resourcefulness. "What have they been doing for the past few minutes?" Gul pointed to the nearest suspect, an elderly man sitting in a chair, reading a book. "That's Kishori Lal. He's a local collector, in here once a week looking for Civil War memorabilia. Lal wasn't upset at all when I told him he had to stick around. I watched as he borrowed a book from "Lightly Used Classics" and sat right down. He hasn't moved."

The second customer was a stranger. "He says he's a businessman, here in town to see a client. I don't know about that. For one thing, he's not wearing a watch. Right away the guy argued, said he'd be late for an important meeting. Then he went over to the lobby pay phone, looked up a number and dialed. I stood nearby. He didn't say anything, but I was near enough to hear the other end. He called up the number that gives out the time. After the call, he started pacing, never sat down."

The third customer was another local. "Manoj Mistry," Gul explained. "He's a neighbor. As far as I know, Manoj's never been in here before. The guy has a bad leg and is on welfare. From what his wife tells me, finances are pretty thin. I don't know why he'd be shopping, except maybe to pass the time. After I stopped him from leaving, Manoj took a seat on that old pew." The officer looked over to the pew and saw Manoj, his left pant leg rolled up. He was applying a bottle of lineament to the kneecap. The officer talked to all three customers. With their permission, he searched them, then performed a careful inspection of the entire lobby area.

"You did right," he said to Gul. "But it must be a false alarm. All three of them are clean and so is the lobby. The hasp on the case must've just been loose. I'm going to let them go."

"No," Gul insisted. "I've been thinking it over. One of them did steal something and I know who it is.

- Can you catch the thief ?

- The Old Man

- The Businessman

- The Neighbor

- Gul Herself

55 Fiction #1 : Yours and Mine

Hello Readers,

Welcome to the world of 55 Fiction : Fragments of Imagination in 55 words ONLY.

My critic, Mr. Sushobhan Roy welcomed me to the world of 55 Fiction.At face value, it appeared to be a cheese cake,but while writing it,I always exceeded the limit.First it was 69,then 61,and then it got complicated.Had to rework a couple of times and it got even more challenging.Torn between imagination and word limit,I tried helplessly.Sometimes it was 59...sometimes 57...56...again 58 and finally it zeroed down to 55.

Couldn't ever imagine I would be writing a story in just 55 words,but...Impossible is Nothing.

Onwards,I'll be naming all posts in this category as "55 Fiction # serial no : Post Name"

Please give me your honest feedbacks....hope you like it :-)

* * *

"Which ones are we riding Shashank ? You've got some pretty horses in here!"

- "This one's Yours and that one's Mine.I'll be riding Yours and you'll be riding Mine."

"Stop flirting Shashank,how is that possible?"

-"Juhi, I named this as 'Yours',and that as 'Mine'.So, i'll be riding 'Yours' and you'll ride 'Mine'."

* * *

IPL Casualties

The Indian Premier League is an ingeniously conceived and spectacularly executed show.It features genuine sporting skills along with elements of burlesque.Now into its third edition,it has acquired not just a mass following but also new cohorts of fans among those who did not know thay would love cricket lite.But success has brought a stiff price : serious questions about the league's integrity and internal governance.

As controversies engulfed the IPL's Kochi franchise,acts of impropriety and wrongdoing were becoming evident at more than one level by more than one party.Suave minister of state for external affairs Shashi Tharoor was casualty No. 1 - for his so - called mentoring of the Kerala franchise.It is now established that with the stated aim of giving the youth of Kerala,his home-State,a cricket team to cheer for,Mr.Tharoor sought to use the power and influence arising out of his public office improperly - in the interests of the business consortium that won the bid,Rendezvous Sports World.Although Mr. Tharoor is not a shareholder in Rendezvous,his close friend Sunanda Pushkar was given substantial 'sweat equity' in the consortium for no immediate apparent reason. Mr. Tharoor's undue interest in helping a commercial enterprise exploit the IPL boom,prior to the bidding and also subsequently,is a prima facie case of ministerial misconduct.The prime minister must ask him to step down from his ministerial post immediately,pending an investigation into his conduct.

According to IPL chairman and our casualty No. 2 - Lalit Modi,the minister called him with a request not to make public the list of shareholders in the consortium.Mr.Tharoor admits he contacted Mr.Modi on the matter,although his nature and interest is quite different.The Franchise Agreement does not have a confidentiality clause,which prohibits the disclosure of the agreement,other than as might be required under the law,without prior written agreement of both parties(the consortium and the IPL arm of the Board of Control for Cricket in India).But there is no justification of such a clause in first place.

The IPL draws heavily on public resources,not only for security purposes,but also in terms of tax exemptions and tariff concessions.There is an undeniable public interest in requiring consortiums bidding huge amounts for cricket franchises to disclose to the public their funding sources and shareholding particulars.However,Mr.Tharoor is not the only one in the dock in this murky affair. A Kochi consortium co-owner has alleged that Mr.Modi offered the owners $50 million as bribe to withdraw from the bid after they had won it.The IPL chairman has strenuously denied this.Actually,the original invitation to tender for ascertaining the two new franchises was cancelled after BCCI president Shashank Manohar found that stiff clauses involving binding financial obligations were included without the IPL governing council's approval.The subsequent tender invitation dropped the clause requiring the bidders to demonstrate a net worth of $ 1 billion and pay an advance guarantee of $100 million.

Evidently within the IPL,there are serious conflicts of interest and vested interests lobbying for,and acting clandestinely on behalf of,big business and powerful politicians. The league owes its success to millions of cricket fans across the country and,to some extent,abroad.The time has certainly come for the BCCI as well as the government authorities to look into the nature and size of the amounts flowing into the IPL,and ensure greater transparency and accountability on the part of both the organisers and franchisees.

Let not the game be a casualty.

Funny

Myself Phanindra Muruggan Aiyyer , in short “Funny” . I am a famous Comedian and a Counsellor by profession. If you are disappointed at my boring introduction, blame your high expectation.

One fine day,something happened that made me change my name forever.

You may remember that I lectured lately for the young gentlemen of the Aiyyenger Society? During the afternoon of that day I was talking with one of the young gentlemen referred to, and he said he had an uncle who, from some cause or other, seemed to have grown permanently bereft of all emotion. And with tears in his eyes this young man said:

“Oh, if I could only see him laugh once more! Oh, if I could only see him weep!”

I was touched. I could never withstand distress. I said:

“Bring him to my lecture. I’ll start him for you.”

“Oh, if you could but do it! If you could but do it, all our family would bless you for evermore; for he is very dear to us. Oh, my benefactor, can you make him laugh? Can you bring soothing tears to those parched orbs?”

I was profoundly moved. I said:

“My son, bring the old party round. I have got some jokes in my lecture that will make him laugh, if there is any laugh in him; and, if they miss fire, I have got some others that’ll make him cry or kill him, one or the other.”

Then the young man wept on my neck, and presently spread both hands on my head and looked up towards heaven, mumbling something reverently; and then he went after his uncle. He placed him in full view, in the second row of benches.

That night, and I began on him.

I tried him with mild jokes—then with severe ones; I dosed him with bad jokes, and riddled him with good ones; I fired old, stale jokes on him, and peppered him fore and aft with red-hot new ones. I warmed up to my work, and assaulted him on the right and left, in front and behind; I fumed, and charged, and ranted, till I was hoarse and sick, and frantic and furious; but I never moved him once—I never started a smile or a tear! Never a ghost of a smile, and never a suspicion of moisture! I was astounded.

It now came down to my prestige.I closed the lecture at last with one despairing shriek—with one wild burst of humor—and hurled a joke of supernatural atrocity full at him. It never phased him!

Then I sat down bewildered and exhausted.

I will change my name today.

The president of the society came up and bathed my head with cold water, and said:

“What made you carry on so towards the last?”

I said, “I was trying to make that confounded old idiot laugh in the second row.”

And he said, “Well, you were wasting your time; because he is deaf and dumb, and as blind as a badger.”

Now was that any way for that old man’s nephew to impose on a stranger and an orphan like me?