About two decades ago, the papers in Chennai used to be full of news of biscuit bandits and their raids. This was the generic name given to robbers who used to travel in trains, befriend co-passengers, offer them biscuits or snacks laced with sedatives and get off at intermediate stations with the luggage of the sedated passengers. Almost every day there would be news of such dastardly attacks on innocent people. An immediate consequence was that the good old Indian attributes of socialising with strangers and hospitality went for a six, at least on Indian Railways. Today, of course, the ubiquitous smart phone has taken on this role - of killing socialisation!
It hit closer home one day when we heard at that time that a colleague had become a victim. The first reaction was amazement, because he was a well educated and self aware person. He had gone to Vishakhapatnam for a conference and on the return journey, had taken a train. This city is roughly halfway on the Chennai Kolkata rail line and my colleague's train was reaching Vizag at about two in the morning. While he was looking for a cup of coffee to keep himself awake, he was joined by a well dressed gentleman. That's the last he knew for some time. He not only missed his train but when he came to, he found he was lying on the railway platform heavy headed and with his pockets cleaned out too. A Good Samaritan police constable at the station bought him a ticket and put him on the next train to Chennai. My colleague did not remember reaching Chennai station or taking the auto rickshaw home. He was surprised at how he reached home as his house was quite a distance from the main road and there were many turns on the way. Apparently he gave proper directions to the driver but did not recollect one bit - that was what worried him. It worried us too.
A few months later, he received a telephone call from the railway police at Vishakhapatnam saying that they had recovered some of his luggage. He went, largely in the hope that he would get his laptop. He got only the laptop bag and some of his clothes. So, in case, gentle reader, if you thought that biscuit bandits were not that such a big deal, this would probably make you change your views. My colleague was lucky - there were even a couple of cases where victims died. Eventually, the police got their act together and with the advent of more technology, most of these bandits did get caught. So much so that today one hardly hears of this genre of banditry.
In retirement, my association with biscuits is less spectacular and totally altruistic. On my morning walk, I frequently come across this elderly gentleman who always carries a small plastic bag. Wherever he goes, he is surrounded by all the dogs in the vicinity - stray or even pets. He throws a couple of biscuits to each of the dogs he meets, making sure every one gets a share. Most of the dogs get a rub or a caress too. I do admire him for his tenacity in doing this daily.
The humble biscuit thus becomes a symbol of villainy as well as kindheartedness, perfidy and niceness, badness and goodness. But isn't that exactly what life is all about - an interplay of yin and yang with one blending into the other and at times, man not knowing what is good and what is evil?
It hit closer home one day when we heard at that time that a colleague had become a victim. The first reaction was amazement, because he was a well educated and self aware person. He had gone to Vishakhapatnam for a conference and on the return journey, had taken a train. This city is roughly halfway on the Chennai Kolkata rail line and my colleague's train was reaching Vizag at about two in the morning. While he was looking for a cup of coffee to keep himself awake, he was joined by a well dressed gentleman. That's the last he knew for some time. He not only missed his train but when he came to, he found he was lying on the railway platform heavy headed and with his pockets cleaned out too. A Good Samaritan police constable at the station bought him a ticket and put him on the next train to Chennai. My colleague did not remember reaching Chennai station or taking the auto rickshaw home. He was surprised at how he reached home as his house was quite a distance from the main road and there were many turns on the way. Apparently he gave proper directions to the driver but did not recollect one bit - that was what worried him. It worried us too.
A few months later, he received a telephone call from the railway police at Vishakhapatnam saying that they had recovered some of his luggage. He went, largely in the hope that he would get his laptop. He got only the laptop bag and some of his clothes. So, in case, gentle reader, if you thought that biscuit bandits were not that such a big deal, this would probably make you change your views. My colleague was lucky - there were even a couple of cases where victims died. Eventually, the police got their act together and with the advent of more technology, most of these bandits did get caught. So much so that today one hardly hears of this genre of banditry.
In retirement, my association with biscuits is less spectacular and totally altruistic. On my morning walk, I frequently come across this elderly gentleman who always carries a small plastic bag. Wherever he goes, he is surrounded by all the dogs in the vicinity - stray or even pets. He throws a couple of biscuits to each of the dogs he meets, making sure every one gets a share. Most of the dogs get a rub or a caress too. I do admire him for his tenacity in doing this daily.
The humble biscuit thus becomes a symbol of villainy as well as kindheartedness, perfidy and niceness, badness and goodness. But isn't that exactly what life is all about - an interplay of yin and yang with one blending into the other and at times, man not knowing what is good and what is evil?
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So true rajan..one can never be sure of the intent of apparent well wishers..
ReplyDeleteThanks Akka !
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