Saturday, August 24, 2013

Chapter 2: The Case of the Golden Deer

मसार गल्वर्क मुखः शंख मुक्ता निभ उदरः |
कस्य नाम अनिरूप्यः असौ मनो लोभयेत् मृगः || -४३-२९

Its face is like a mug made up of sapphires, its paunch is pearly and conchoidal, and whose heart is it that will not lured for this deer with an inexplicable beauty. [3-43-29]
   
“We need a case Lx, my brains are starting to get rusty” gushed Raam

“Let’s wait it out. A good detective is a patient one. And if we don’t get a case in the next 10 minutes, I am in favour of committing a crime” replied Lx

Raam stared at Lx the way one would stare at a friend with lower IQ but one you care about.

“It’s plain and simple logic, my friend. You need to adapt to a changing environment. You cannot keep making bulky televisions when everyone wants thin LEDs. You cannot keep making big hand phones when smaller is cooler”

Raam interjected, “Clearly you haven’t seen the latest mobiles, they are starting to get bigger now, the size of a person’s face”

“I think we are losing the plot Raam, we need a case to solve remember. Let’s focus on that”, said Lx.

Ding Donggggggggg

“I knew it!” exclaimed Raam. Any self-respecting detective knew that once the detective settles down in his chair and declares that he is in the mood for case solving, a beautiful mysterious woman usually shows up either accused of murder or afraid that someone might murder the beautiful mysterious woman’s portly husband. The reason why these mysterious women only wore red, black or white was probably linked to the fact that “The mystery of the polka dotted t shirt woman in figure hugging jeans” just doesn’t seem to hit the spot. 

Having concluded that the bell must be the precursor to the entry of one such beautiful mysterious woman Raam shouted “Come in, detectives Raam and Lx await you”

The portly man entered with some difficulty. He looked around with disgust, covering his face with a handkerchief. “You have got to be kidding me. Kids !! Kids !! I knew I shouldn’t have trusted the yellow pages. Kids”

“Welcome sir, you are neither beautiful nor mysterious, and my instincts tell me that you are also not a woman. You are a man, and you are portly” deduced Raam

“Well done Raam. I think you summarized that rather well” agreed Lx

“Hummmm” hummed the portly man

“Have a seat Sir, and tell us how we can help you” they said in unison. 

The odd “Hurrah” could be managed by groups of the non-synchronysed swimming variety, but the boys display of skill in managing 12 words in chorus clearly had a positive impact on the portly man. He sat down, then realized he had sat down and leaned forward to brief them.

 “Gentleman, my name is Tukaram. It’s my sister, she’s been kidnapped. And it has something to do with a golden deer that I saw outside my house” gushed the portly man, or Tukaram if you prefer

“A golden deer??” exclaimed Lx. He continued, “Why don’t we start at the beginning. Tell us more about yourself”

“I work on a farm and my sister, Sita, stays with me. After our parents died, I have been taking care of her. We have been farming for years now, growing sugar cane and selling it to the local factories. I run the tractors on the field, Sita handles the accounts and makes sure we have enough money in the bank to feed ourselves”

“Business hasn’t been great lately. The monsoons are still key to whether we make a good crop. And then there is all the construction”

“Construction? You mean real estate developers. Where are your farms located Mr.Tukaram? With the way the city is expanding they must have reached all the way to you”

“My town is called dodakanahabulli”

“Dodakabli?”

“Dodakanahabulli”

“Dodakaboooli?”

“Dodakanahabulli”

“Dodaaa….so focussing on the issue at hand. I am sorry about your sister Mr.Tukaram.Tell us about the day Sita was kidnapped. When did it happen. Did you notice anything unusual about her behaviour. Please tell us everything you can remember about the incident. Anything could help”

“It happened two days back, on Thursday. It was a normal day, Sita was actually happier than usual. We finished up our daily work routine, wake up at 5am, take the tractor through the fields, rest, lunch, inspecting crops for diseases in the evening, house chores, dinner..and that’s when I saw it”

“Saw what?”

“The…….golden deer”

“Is it possible you just saw a regular deer. The light plays tricks on the eyes sometimes. Why just the other day, I was walking with Ram in the park and we saw this couple. And they looked silver but it was actually the moonlight, so they weren’t actually silver. If they were silver, you could say things like “you guys make a shiny new couple” or “Which band do you guys like? Metallllllica?” or you”

“Lx. Shut up”

“Thanks Ram” said Tukaram and continued “It was golden I tell you. I have 6/6 vision. The moon was out, and it was a clear night. First I noticed a golden flash outside the window, but I ignored it. Then Sita saw it as well, she poked her head out of the window and almost fainted”

“I ran across to her, and there it was. It was moving quite fast, it was a golden deer. You must believe me”

“I wore my sandals, rushed out of the house to catch it or at least get a better look. I thought I saw it in the distance, and I ran after it with all I had, but the further I ran, the further it seemed to disappear. The air was suddenly not very clear. Black fumes engulfed me, and I found it hard to breathe. I suddenly felt afraid for Sita, and ran back to the house as fast as I could”

“I reached home calling her name but I didn’t get an answer. It was as I had feared. Someone or something has taken my sister. I am a god fearing man sir, but the deer, Sita, I feel mythical forces are at play. I haven’t been to the temple in years, maybe this is god’s way of taking revenge. I must have angered the lord, for he has .”

“CTFD”

“CTFD?”

“Calm the fuck down. Lx, get the man some water.”

Grudgingly gulping down the water, Tukaram’s pulse seemed to come back down towards frantically out of control. Ram sat back in his chair and assumed a more comfortable position, a good detective needs to be comfortable. Imagine trying to solve a case or connect together clues when your jeans are too tight or in bad weather. Holmes must have a good tailor, he figured. But enough about Holmes.

“Now that you have CTFDed, Lx and I would like to ask you a few questions. Please keep your answers brief and to the point. Understood?”

“Yes, I think I have. Ill do my best. I shall answer your questions as best I can. I will try and remember every little detail. It is difficult but I must, for my sister. I shall answer eve”

“CTFD”

“…..”

“Good, now let us begin” said Raam to Tukaram, arming his verbal racquet with the semi-eastern grip, positioned himself at the middle of the net near the T and began his volley onslaught as Lx assumed the standard look to the left-look to the right-look to the left-repeat position. 

“How big is your farm”

“2 acres” 

“Any neighbouring farms in the area?”

“Most of the farmers have sold their land to the local developer Lanka Constructions. It’s just me and Sitaram. He holds another 4 acres right behind mine”

“Did Sitaram have more lands in the area?”

“He did. He owned more than 20 acres. But he sold most of his land to Lanka. In fact, the entire Lanka urbania opposite my farm belonged to him.”

“Can you draw this out on a map for us”

Exhibit A: Tukaram’s Map




“So the Green plot is where I farm. The blue one is where Sitaram does his farming. That’s the main road running right next to my plot. On the other side of town is Lanka Urbania, the large township project that is almost complete. They have met me a couple of times asking me to sell my land, but I would never sell to them. Money is money, but you don’t give up what you love doing for years for a pile of cash. You just dont”

“That’s very useful Sir. Very useful indeed”

“Indeed” added Lx

“I hope you boys have heard about the legend of Maricha. If you know any priests who can do a havan or do a grand offering let me know. That’s the only way to get Sita back”

“Maricha Sir?  You didn’t tell me about this dude before”

“This dude son, is a savage demon. He transformed himself into a Golden Deer to entice Raam to move away from the house, while his wife Sita was left unguarded at home. This helped give Raavan the time to kidnap her.”

“Sorry to interrupt you sir. All very nice to hear, this Maricha business. But we would like to focus on the facts if you will”

“For example, when Lx handed you our favourite set of coloring sketchpens to make a drawing, we noticed you also took a yellow one. What we didn’t understand was that squiggly drawing you made at the end”

“That’s the deer”

“That’s the deer?”

“That’s what I saw, the deer. And the yellow path is the direction in which it ran before I lost track of it, also the air around me got smoggier and I couldn’t see very well”

“Hmm” hmmed Raam

“Hmm” hmmed Lx

“Ok. This is done. I made a big mistake coming to you guys. I should have gone to the police. I thought they would find me crazy for telling them a story about golden deer and the Raamayana, but I think they are my best chance. Or maybe Ill go tell the priest at the local temple. Maybe he will help me out of this mess”

“The case is solved” exclaimed Raam and Lx in unison.

It was this kind of synchronous exclamations that had given Tukaram confidence when he had entered their sparsely decorated office. It was the same synchronous exclamation that made him sit up again.

“Really? You know who abducted my sister? Tell me. Tell me quickly”

“It was a clear night, the moon was out and your eyesight was clear. Yet, as you ran behind the deer, you said you were finding it hard to breathe and see, and that the air got blacker”

“You work on a farm, on a farm there are two things, crops, and a tractor to run through it”

“Your plot gives Sitaram access to the main road, and the fact that he owned the lands on the other side indicate that he knows Lanka well”

“You did not want to sell to Lanka but you might have been persuaded to sell to another farmer, with the right amount of pressure from outside”

“Go immediately to the police, tell them to bring a search party, and search Sitaram’s premises. Tell them to take special notice of where he keeps his tractor and his other farm equipment. You should find your sister there. She will be unharmed and well fed. He didn’t mean to harm her, just keep her there till you signed over your land parcel to him”

“That unscrupulous no-good two bit lying conniving motherfucker”

“Well put”

“Thanks. I will go immediately. Thank you boys. Here is a cheque, its blank, you can fill in your fees and cash it in”

“Wow. That’s awfully generous of you”

“Yes no worries. That account of mine has 600 rupees in it. That’s about how much I was willing to pay you two anyway. So go ahead and take it”

Tukaram gathered his stuff and started out towards the door. Suddenly he paused and turned around.

“You might have solved who took my sister. But you boys must admit. The golden deer must have shaken your modern-age beliefs. Maricha…he may have distracted me but I shall continue to pray to Lord Raam so I don’t see that monster again”

“There was no golden deer sir. No Maricha and this is definitely no Ramayana. The deer has a name”

“Yes it does, Maricha”

“Well, you might want to call it that, but the more anglicised correct name is John”

“John?”

“John….John Deer”

“WHAT”

“What you saw sir was the symbol on Sitaram’s tractor made by the John Deere Tractor Company, 

Exhibit B: John Deere Tractor Company Logo



which he ran past your house to distract you. He then circled back and came to your house, took your sister and went towards his farm while you were still searching the elusive beast. The black fumes, exhaust, from his tractor as he ran it at high speed to make sure you didn’t get too close”

“Ayooooo Raaaama”

The next day, Ram woke up early. A good day to go to the park. 

His dad called out to him from downstairs “Raaam..Time for breakfast. Come fast”

“Pass me the cereal dad. Thanks”

“Crazy stuff in the papers today. Some farmer’s sister was abducted, but the police managed to find the guy who did it. The farmer’s neighbour! People these days, they ll do anything for money”

“Maricha….you didn’t get away this time”

“What did you say son?”


“Nothing dad….Nothing”

Chapter 1: The one that hummed and the one that is handsome

Chapter 1: The one that hummed and the one that is handsome

Bangalore, India

The fir trees were dressed in yellow, the more dapper ones in green. They stood firm as the wind hurried through. The more risqué coconut trees flirted with the wind, allowing him to run his hand through her outstretched leaves. But just when the wind gained confidence in its approach, they would return to their original upright position, leaving the wind huffing, puffing and dejected, only to be teased again.

In the middle of the park stood Raam, a young man of fifteen, as young a man as any man of fifteen should be. He was neither dark nor fair. His height was just about average. His features were far from striking, the kind that might rob a bank on Tuesday morning at 10:00am and have the teller unable to draw him out from a line-up of him and old women by 10:14am.  We are of course assuming a teller of sound intelligence, the kind that manages to find two bunnies in those memory games.

“Hummmm” hummed Raam. It wasn’t the most original sound he had uttered in his fifteen years, but it was off late, a common one. Young men hum for two reasons. There is the more loving sighing hum that starts at a low pitch and ends even lower. This hum usually follows spotting a girl with a cute hairdo or just after you consume a sloppy burger, fries and a belch inducing large coke. There were many girls in the park that day, some with exceptionally cute hairdos but none had passed by Raam’s field of vision. It was safe to assume that the young man had not been on the receiving end of a happy meal either.

Clearly, the hum was of a different lineage. In its formative years the hum had been influenced by watchful parents and an irritating older brother. As it grew up, it had experienced mediocrity in poetry and sport, failing to impress the fairer sex and the darker one. On a dark rainy night, some might mistake it for a guffaw and they wouldn’t have been way off the mark. “Hummmmm” he hummed again, hoping it would draw the attention of either a fellow Hummee or anyone who would be willing to give him a listen. Finding no Hummee rushing to his aide, Raam put a hand on his red cycle, as a show of support and escorted it as it creaked and rolled devotedly by his side.

His father had bought him the cycle from the monumentally prestigious store – Hanu’s Cycle shop. The owner of the shop had first shown them cycles from Belgium, Germany and other countries of questionable existence. His dad has smiled, unperturbed by the salesman’s pitch and Raam’s wide eyed coat-tugging every time a shiny new European cycle was pointed out.  The owner finally sighed a loser’s sigh and had shown them one made much closer home, and the red bike had never left Raam’s side since.

He mounted his steed with elan, and after a 5 second pause, his legs that pedalled, the pedals and the chain that rounded the wheel found synchrony. He rang the bell for effect, but its rusty sound only reminded him that he needed to take it back to Hanu for an overdue service. Ten minutes later he rounded the kerb near his house and made a dash for the finish. Screeeech

“Congratulations Raam, You are late again. If you start making this a habit, practice it with resolve, and if they decide to include it in the Olympics, you would make us so proud”

“Thank you Dad. I would love nothing more than to collect my medal and make a heart-warming speech thanking you”

Rebuttal completed, Raam trudged upstairs to his room, slammed the door shut and plonked himself on his bed. He had hoped an owl, partly grey, partly white would arrive soon with his letter of admission. He had hoped for it so much that he even left the window open one night. The pigeon that had relieved itself on his desk had left an amusing reminder of the folly of such hope. The window had stayed shut since, and his desk had been subjected to no further abuse from fluttery fiend.
Damnnnnnn whooose a sexxxxxxyyyy
“Hey, Whats up” said Raam. He always made sure to pick up phone calls before the singer got around to finishing the sentence. He suspected that letting the singer finish the song might coincide with the thwacking sound that would doubtless emanate when father’s hand met son’s back at above average speeds. He had no interest in hearing a thwack, but ringtones needed to be cool, that’s just the way things are, he concluded.
“Nothing much Raam, I just reached home after basketball. Do you want to head out for a bit?”

“In this weather? I was just at the park with a few friends of mine. Its really hot. Id rather not”

“I don’t mean head out Raam! I mean lets head out”. The last two words were said with so much stress that two junior spies on a spying mission would have spotted that the words ”head” and “out” were of significance. This code was luckily not lost on young Raam

“Aaah, head out we shall. Usual place at 8pm. I have a good feeling about this one”

“Sure. Bye Raam”

“Bye Lx”

Lx a.ka Lakshminarayana Subramaniam was a good friend. His name was not incredibly difficult on the tongue. But neither were the names of India’s biggest export – IT engineers in strange foreign lands like Fremont where Rajendran transmogrified into R-cat and Sivaramakrishnan dudified to S-dawg.  Lakshminarayana Subramaniam was Lx simply because he was a whiz at mathematics, and any self respecting algebra solver or worshiper of Fermats theorem would understand that x was central to mathematics. The letter and what it stands for is usually all that stands between any 10th standard student and the elusive centum in the board exams. Raam was quite proud of the name he had given Laksminarayana. Lx sounded tough enough a name to announce to a pizza delivery guy to deserve some attention and an extra slice of pepperoni. It was also short enough to leave your mark in toilets, buses and on trees; the three favourite forms of writing paper for young lovers, ruffians and drug addicts.

Raam mumbled “Dad, I’m heading out to Lx’s place, Ill be back before sundown”,

“Sure raam, have fun, and don’t forget to practice for the Late-a-lympics! Hahahahahahohohohoho”

His father had been laughing at his own jokes more often than not, a product of senility with a heavy dose of caffeine, he concluded.  Raam set off on his bike, occasionally getting off his seat and powering his feet downward to gain momentum.

He loved the feeling of cycling. It was like flying, except there were wheels on the ground and flapping your hands like wings made you look slightly demented. In all other aspects it was exactly like flying! He made his way past 5th cross, 4th cross, allowed 3rd cross to sneak past as a cute girl carrying tuition books fluttered by. Reaching 2nd cross he concluded that the girl must have been cute enough to beat the sign for 3rd vying for his limited teenage attention span. The abandoned plot was a breeding ground for pollen, weed and other forms of tropical vegetation that Sir Attenborough would have loved to explore. It was also the breeding ground for the boy’s secret hideaway. He swung the wicker gate open, noting that the light white thread that they had tied near the bottom was broken. He knew what that meant, either the Indian police force had finally caught up with their small detective outfit or his friend Lx had reached slightly earlier than expected. He sized up the first hypothesis as follows: The Indian police force while competent, extremely intelligent and comprised some of the toughest moustached men south of the Himalayas, they were also by prefix and nature Indian, which made them late.  He steamrolled past to conclude that the second hypothesis however improbable must be true, an epitaph to the late Holmes or was it Poirot or was it Holmes

Ram exclaimed to his general-in-arms, “Hey Lx, whats up dawg, hows it hanging L Man, whats the word XL”. Lx replied with equal aplomb and weighted enthusiasm “Hey Raam”.

The boys had been classmates since as long as they could remember, and their memory stretched as many years back as they had birthdays and as many years back as they had not got up to watch the Republic Day Parade on the telly. A cursory glance by a less informed stranger, which is the level of information most strangers have, would have concluded that the two boys could not be friends.

One was average looking and hummed a lot, messed up hair, grungy clothes and grungier demeanour.

The other, tall, fair and handsome, the stuff face-creams should be made of and the top buzzwords on any marriage website of decent repute.

Raam, the one that hummed faced his friend Lx, the one that was handsome.

They glared at each other with unsaid brotherly friendship, that is unbreakable till broken and is carved in stone through years of broken noses, dusty cricket and sharing ice-cream in new unhygienic ways that their mothers were oblivious to by choice.

“I came here as fast as I could”, gushed Raam. Patting his cycle for effect, and allowing his panting to be more audible than the panting itself would have wanted. “I know you did, shall we enter our secret hideaway” said Lx
Raam declared with authority, “Sure, allow me to lead the way. It has been a while since we entered our secret hideaway. I hope the roots haven’t grown through it!”

“Sure Raam, to the secret hideaway!!” boomed Lx

Raam shook his fist at Lx threateningly and declared “Lx….if you say the words secret or hideaway in any particular order, either one by one or one after another or in reverse or even use the letters in that word one more time…..”

“Sorry mate. I will make sure to keep it a secret”, Cough, “Hi”, Cough , “D”, Cough , “Away..we go?”


The two boys carefully held back the wooden boards that fortressed the impregnably rickety wooden shack. Raam scurried in first with Lx following close behind. Bumping into Raam’s posterior, Lx straightened himself up and flicked the switch flooding the room with light.