BOMB DISPOSAL
I am a simple person, an average looking man, an office goer with an average lifestyle. I never dreamt to be extraordinary, but I enjoy life with my simple living high thinking lifestyle. Even now I don’t carry a mobile phone, it is not essential for me; neither have I had any craze for flashy cars. So, it was just obvious that my only daughter Bani completed five years of her life without a cycle, never even a tricycle. Its not that I can’t afford, neither I have any plan to make my daughter like me, but somehow I was being lazy to go to market to buy a cycle for her, in spite of my wife Rumi’s repeated request. But this simple thing turned into a serious issue when my daughter threatened us, me and my wife Rumi to go for hunger strike if we don’t bring a cycle for her immediately. Actually she had been to our neighbor Mr. Sharma’s home who has a daughter of Bani’s age, who flaunted her second cycle, a new one in front of Bani. So, obviously when Bani came back home after playing, her eyes were filled with tears, who burst out crying the moment her mother asked for the reason, how can she bear it any more.
“Ok, we’ll go to market tomorrow to buy your cycle”, Rumi assured her, trying to bring a smile to those wet eyes.
“Not tomorrow, I’ve my office, maybe coming Sunday, moreover I have to go to pay the electricity and telephone bills, or else I’ll have to pay the late fee”, I tried to settle the issue. However this has resulted just in the opposite, with Bani crying at loudest of her voice.
“But you can pay the bills after the shopping too”, Rumi looked at me, pleadingly. Well, with this age of democracy I didn’t have much choice. Ultimately I agreed on taking half leave from office, but to go to pay the bills on my way to office after shopping. Rumi and Bani both agreed instantly to come back home in an auto while I imagined my packed day ahead with so many in the day’s agenda, from market to go to pay the electricity bill, then to telephone bill and finally my office. Thanks to the flexibility of State Govt.
It always happens with bills. No matter how many time I promise myself whenever I pay late fees, that from next month onward, I’ll pay the bills just the moment they come. However somehow I always land up in the last date. I put both the bills in my office briefcase before I forget them and carried the briefcase while going to the market. Thankfully buying a cycle was easier than my anticipation, with Rumi already armed with all the necessary information from Mrs. Sharma. The shop in the Ganesh Market, near the flyover, and the other details of the cycle too. So, finally we bought the cycle, an orange coloured cycle that made Bani laugh from ear to ear. She was eager to remove the polythene cover so that she can ride on it. Just the moment we came out, we met Mr. and Mrs. Sharma with their daughter. Bani showed them proudly her new cycle, when we started discussing politics, the favorite topic of any gentlemen, standing in the pavement in front of a small store holding a cigarette each. Suddenly both the ladies decided to go back to market as Mrs. Sharma remembered to buy something with girls following them.
“Hold the cycle, this place is so crowded, someone may take it”, Rumi warned me before going inside the market. Actually more than crowd, Rumi was worried for my forgetful nature. With my cigarette in one hand, I had to put my office briefcase down to hold the cycle with the other hand. I put the briefcase between my two legs, so that it doesn’t get lost.
“Where are you”, it was Rumi’s concerned voice over my office phone.
“Of course at my office”.
“Please come home just now”, she was almost half crying. I couldn’t understand what might have gone wrong. I left both of them in an auto just some hours before.
“What happened? Any problem with the cycle?”, I was worried too.
“Just come as soon as possible”, she was sounding more than worried.
“Okay, I’m coming, just tell me what’s wrong”.
“They have found an unexploded bomb. Its all in the news channel. The Govt. is announcing red alert. There may be more bombs in other locations. Just come home urgently”.
Once I was out of my office, I could see what Rumi told me over phone about the bomb. The whole town was disoriented with the news and terror surrounding it. There were traffic jams all around with all people deciding to go back home the same time and moving my car ahead was a Herculean task. Finally I managed to cross the distance of 15 minutes in some one and half hour. Rumi was happy to see me back as we sat in front of the television to watch the news about the bomb while Bani was trying to ride her new cycle inside the house itself.
The channel was showing the market where the bomb was found, the same market we bought Bani’s cycle today only some hours back. I thanked God once from my heart. It was difficult to believe that it was almost the same place, near that small store where we were chatting with Mr. Sharma’s family, that they found the bomb, which made us really scared. We had a real good escape. The market was completely closed. The whole place was looking as if one storm has passed. It was entirely wet turning into mud with a lot of army and security personnel roaming here and there. Some fire brigades were also seen standing there and so were one van of some bomb defuse squad. Then the channel focused on the suitcase where the bomb was found. One Policeman in the Police Station, where the suitcase was kept showed proudly the suitcase, a half broken, brown coloured briefcase completely wet and disoriented, almost in rotten condition. “My God! Now a days you are not safe anywhere”, we concluded.
After discussing all ifs and butts of all possible issues surrounding the bomb, while handing me over a cup of tea, Rumi asked me casually,
“By the way, could you pay the bills?”
It was just then that I remembered my bills. Oh, Shit!! I was so engrossed in my work that I forgot to go to pay the bills completely, and then Rumi called me to come back home. She could read my mind.
“No problem, you can pay it tomorrow”, she was just happy that we were all safe.
Yes, I can pay them tomorrow, but I couldn’t remember where I kept my bills. There was no point of telling Rumi as I kept the bills myself to go to pay. I searched everywhere in my house where generally I keep these bills kind of things. Office? I tried to recall. I’m generally a forgetful person, so I use a formula………..when you don’t find something, try to recall back the last time you saw the thing. I tried to use my formula. Yes, my office briefcase. I remembered putting the bills carefully in my office briefcase before going to market so that I could go to pay. Yes, they must be inside the briefcase, safely kept. But, where’s the briefcase? It should have been with me while I’m back from office, but surprisingly I forgot the briefcase completely. One thing is certain, it was surely not with me. Did I leave it in my office? I couldn’t remember anything. Oh, my this amnesia! Where did I leave the briefcase! “Think calmly, think when you seen it last, starting from the beginning”, I told myself to use my tried and tested formula. It was on my lap when I was making the payment. It was with me while I was talking to Mr. Sharma. When Rumi was going to the market with Mrs. Sharma, I was holding the cycle with one hand, with a cigarette in another hand when I was putting my briefcase between my legs. Yes, suddenly I remembered………that I never picked up the briefcase back. I must had left it there itself. I might have kept a lot of important papers in the briefcase. I tried to remember back. No, its not easy, for some months I had not done any clearing of the briefcase. The moment I get back my briefcase, I will surely remove all other papers from the bag except those needed for office or for the day, I made a promise with myself. But will I get it back?
One scarring thought flashed my mind suddenly. I left the briefcase near the small shop in the market…….the same market and same place where the bomb was found……the bomb was found inside a brown coloured briefcase………..everything seemed to fit the situation accurately.
I rushed to the Police Station driving the maximum speed possible. It was not much difficult to make the officer in charge to agree to show me the briefcase. Finally he showed me the same decayed suitcase, which I had already seen many times in news channels. I opened the lid of the briefcase whose locks were already broken by force with shaking hand and found my diary inside, in a rotten condition. No doubt, it was my briefcase, I concluded in disbelief. Some papers were still inside, which were completely illegible.
Suddenly everything was crystal clear in front of me. I left my briefcase there by mistake and then somebody might have called the Police suspecting it to be a bomb. I could not hear anything the officer was speaking. So, this was the bomb everyone was talking about. I looked at the bomb, my torn and rotten suitcase. I could not control my laugh while coming out of the Police Station shaking hand with the officer, saying sorry for creating so much confusion and terror over the whole town with my silly amnesia.
© Anneshwa., all rights reserved.
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