I AM NOT A THIEF!

- Vittaldas Prabhu

It was another jolly day for me at my school. Everything was normal and fine. I was then in fourth standard I guess if my memory is not failing me to recollect the exact time of the incident I am about to narrate to you. It was the second half of the academic year. Classes were going on just fine, and I was listening to my teachers teach us the elements in elementary education. Within no time the school bell rang. Why, of course! It was lunch time! We had a separate dining hall in the school, which was also our auditorium, where all the kids who did not enjoy the luxury of going home for lunch would bring in their lunch boxes.

I was casually and very leisurely eating my lunch, when from out of the blue I could see the boys of my class come barging into the dining hall. I can only recollect that there were five or six of them. I didn’t know what the urgency of the matter was that made them come into the hall rushing, as if going to start a big riot. They were walking with a purpose. Suddenly they spread out. It was too late when I realized that they were coming for me! I thought it would be wise not to do anything silly and show even remote signs of hostility from my end. It could save my life! I just sat there flabbergasted and comprehending what must have provoked them that made them come in search of me with such malicious intents.

In no time, they were all around me. I was finishing the last of the grub in my box and was about to pack it and go out for my routine afternoon play. But it seemed remotely likely this day. One of them caught hold of me and starting dragging me along. The others joined in and started dragging me like a dead animal being dragged to its doom. I soon found out that humanity hadn’t died completely when one of them actually showed some mercy and allowed me to pack my boxes. No sooner had I completed packing they started dragging me again. I was trying to reason out the reason for this reprehensible behavior. But all my efforts to reason out went in vain as the boys were only concerned about dragging me along to a place which only they knew. It seemed as though the goons of a big mafia don were kidnapping a victim for ransom.

None of them responded to my questions. Rather, they were very busy pulling and pushing me all the way. I didn’t understand what on earth was going to happen to me and to what part of this world were they dragging me to. It became evident a little later that they were dragging me towards the staff room. I was really frightened by the sight of them pulling me towards the staff room, because for kids like us at that time going into the staff room was a huge expedition. At the same time I was wondering, what great crime had I perpetrated that I was being dragged so ruthlessly towards the staff room. Finally when we were at the doors of the staff room, they just pushed me into the room where there were many prying eyes looking strangely at me, disgusted to see my face!

As a kid such hostile behavior from everyone could have only one effect on me, and that would be to shed tears. But I was holding onto my nerves until I could figure out the reason for such hostility. Just then, one of my teachers came close to me and looked into my eyes with an inquisitive expression on her face. She asked, "Did you steal money from the printers outside the campus?" I was dumbstruck! I didn’t know what to say. I was being accused of theft, the thought of which would never ever remotely cross my mind. But my silence was not working in my favor. Her voice now raised, she asked the question again, "Did you steal money from the printers?" I could not hold it anymore. I could feel a trickle of tear running down my cheek. I burst out into tears and wailed, "No. I did not steal the money. I did not steal any money…"

Everybody in the room as purposely trying to hurt me even more kept asking me the same question, "Did you steal the money?" And I kept crying, shaking my head in denial. Even though I reiterated the statement that I did not steal any money nobody was in a mood to heed to my innocence. It seemed as if they had decided that they were going to stick a label of "thief" on my forehead for everyone to see. Amidst all the commotion I wondered as to who might have given such a preposterous complaint. This question was going to be answered very soon, when the boys of my class dragged another boy into the staff room. "Oh!" I exclaimed to myself. "No wonder, it should have been this guy," I pondered. Now it was all falling in place, and I slowly understood what must have transpired for all this to have happened. The money had definitely vanished but it was not me who was involved, it was the other boy who just got dragged into the scene. I looked at him with disgust, but he had no guilt on his face. He was quite unfazed by the accusations. While I was crying my heart out, he stood there with absolutely no expressions on his face.

It later came to our notice when the owner of the printing press visited our school, when he narrated the incident. He had seen one boy stealing the money, and the people who were around suspected that the other boy who was with me in the staff room had stolen the money. It also became apparent to me that he had already agreed to have stolen the money but instead of taking all the blame on himself he decided to drag in somebody as his partner in crime. Friendship is a relationship where the people involved in the friendship look beyond each other’s shortcomings. Nobody had told me this quite incomprehensible thought, at that tender age, but it seemed to come naturally to me. The reason why this point has been raised here is to make you aware of the fact that even though I knew he suffered from kleptomania I still chose to be friends with him. Little did I know that I would be rewarded for this act in this manner!

While I was going through this ordeal, by the grace of God, came to my rescue an aunt of a very close friend of mine. She managed to convince my teachers that it was not only a false accusation but was absolutely preposterous to remark such a kid to be a thief. She spoke very highly of me and my family so much so that the teachers started repenting for having accused me of such a heinous crime. They now actually started to witness my tears which were still flowing and would have flooded the city in no time if they had gone about their accusations for long. But they weren’t totally convinced yet. That day they did not allow me and the other boy to attend the afternoon session and we stood outside the headmistress’ cabin embarrassed to having been accused of theft.

We stood outside that cabin overlooking the entire row of classes on both sides of it, looking at each other. Even after what the other boy had put me through, I still talked to him and kept him company! Finally my ordeal came to an end when the owner of the printing press visited us again and he told that there weren’t two people involved in the theft but only one, and it was the other one. It was easy to come to this conclusion because the other boy had already agreed of having perpetrated the crime and the story he portrayed of having a helper was turned down by the owner of the printing press.

But my test of grit was far from over. The next big test I had to face was my parents. I thought that it would be wise to tell them about the whole story before they come to know about it from anyone else. The unfortunate thing about telling at home was that a relatively weak father of mine, who had just been discharged that day from the hospital after a brief illness, had to listen to it. My parents listened to me patiently and then rebuked me for making wrong friends and they made me realize that life had taught me a lesson about the importance of being friends with the right people. Even though at that time all these words of advice had little impact on me, more or less I can say that those words fell into deaf ears, today I realize the significance of the words that came out of their mouth.

But, that day my tears and my friend’s aunt came to my rescue. I found out my own worth and the trust and belief my friends and my elders put in me. I thanked God for saving me from getting a bad name as I proudly walked back to my class acquitted of a crime that I never perpetrated.

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