The Accomplice

Ok! There I was, a James Bond. Self-appointed James Bond. So, what do you think I really did? I was not having any assignment in hand. Neither did I know what to do nor there anybody to give me one. So I started hiding alone in the shades of trees and behind the pillars for hours together. I watched people with suspicion. If some unknown person were passing by, I would follow him till that man either entered a house or took a bus. Before sleeping every night, I carefully wrote everything whatever I noticed that day in my new detective diary.

Nothing really ever happened any day. As the days continued, I lost interest in my detective games and I settled down with my reading novels. Exactly, at one of those times, something happened.

On one day, when I was studying my history notes, I got little playful and so casually started rolling on the floor and in the process; I got rolled myself down the cot in our hall. As I could see myself disappeared from my mother’s notice, who was working in the kitchen on the other side, I stayed back there comfortably, in the utmost interest of finishing the detective novel which I was reading, hidden inside the history notes. Then suddenly something happened. My elder brother, who thought there was nobody in the hall, sneaked slowly towards the closet. He turned his head in all the directions, except down the cot of course; then after making sure that no one was watching, he took out something from my father’s shirt pocket. He carefully stuffed that in his pants and rushed out.

Oops! I couldn’t believe what I saw. I wondered what my brother took from my father’s pocket. My fragile mind debated whether to tell this to my parents or not. The truth was that I did not really know what my brother took from my dad’s pocket. I felt like I should investigate the case more and decide later. So, I just kept quiet.

I followed my brother for the next few days silently, whenever I got time. After the school, instead of going home with my friends, I started to take the path of my brother and his friends. I found him stopping near ice cream parlors and buying things for his friends. A strong suspicion that it must have been money that he stole occurred to me.

I waited for a chance to talk to him. When we both were running errands, I raised the topic. “Brother, I noticed you taking something from our dad’s pocket the other day” I slowly mentioned. At first, he slowed the bicycle for a second and looked back at me. And then he tried to ignore me, for being young. I was not ready to let it pass, “So, what did you take?” I insisted this time.

“Hey, what’s up? You think, you are a policeman or what?” he dragged me to the side of the road. I could see the guilt in his eyes. Even though he was guilty, I believe he wanted to prove that he was right. I kept on looking into his eyes.

He was uneasy, as if he was caught for some mistake. He looked that side and this side and sighed heavily couple of times. “So, what do you want?” he almost yelled at me. “Nothing, I just wanted to know.” I replied, still calmly watching him.

“Ok brother! Here is a rupee. Keep it and shut your mouth” he took out a rupee note from his pocket and stuffed in my shirt pocket. “Dad and Mom should not know about this”, he warned me again and again, while pulling the bicycle onto the main road.

That was a bribe I received for lying to my parents. I was thrilled to have that one rupee with me. That might be the first time; I had one whole rupee for my own. I felt like I got richer. But frankly, I was not intending to spend that money at all. I carefully saved that one rupee inside my cupboard, under the books.

As I continued spying on my brother, over the next two months, I caught him couple of times lifting money from our dad’s pocket. Always he tried to escape from me and the very moment he put his hand in the pocket, I used to appear in front of him from nowhere. Even though he hated me doing that, but inside his mind, I believe he always admired my new and new hiding places and spying skills. “Damn, keep your share” he used to stuff my one rupee share always into my pocket before leaving.

My share crossed more than five rupees by then. I carefully kept all the money under my books in the cupboard. I did not want to spend that money at all, I secretly used to check that money every now and then, to make sure that it was always there. The truth was that I was enjoying my spying games more than the money what my brother was giving me as bribes. The more he was trying to steal the money without me noticing it; I was turning more and more adamant in catching him. If on the first day I sneak behind the almirah, next day I would hide under the cot, that next time I would be somewhere else.

Even though I was enjoying my games, I always had the guilty feeling inside my heart that I was lying to my parents, by not bringing this to their notice. But in the other angle, I used to console myself that I was not using that money. The moment something happens, I would be ready to surrender that entire money what my brother paid me and prove my innocence.

That day, in our English prose class, our teacher told us about the Mahatma Gandhi story. The story was about telling the truth. The way my teacher reiterated the moral again and again, it struck to me like anything. I felt very guilty that day with full of remorse and I thought I should go and tell my dad and mom. I rushed home after the school to confess everything.

There was a saying in my native language, “If you think one thing, God will consider the other thing." Exactly in the same fashion, by the time I reached home, I found my father holding my brother at fault. It looked as if they caught him for his wrong doing just then. He was standing in front of them weeping and swearing all sorts of promises for the future. The moment they saw me entering the house, my father said, “Here comes the accomplice."

I got agitated hearing the word 'accomplice'. I rushed in and said, “I am not in this." I went and brought back all the money what my brother had given me. I tried to explain my angle of the story, but my parents did not listen at all. They punished both of us for the next one month, by not allowing us for any games in the evenings and banished us from our favorite television shows.

Even today, sometimes when I remember this incident, I still have a strong urge to explain my point of view to my parents but then, as a 28 year old, I think I am too grown up for that now.

-Aparna Pelluru

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