Corruption Saves The Day!

It was a clear morning when Mr.Ramprakash Ahuja set out for the Jairampur cemetery which was six kilometers from the Jairampur town. It was the cemetery where Mr. Ramprakash's grandfather Mr. Shivlal Ahuja was buried. Mr. Ramprakash was a small-time businessman settled in Kolkata, West Bengal. It was the last dying wish of Mr. Ramprakash's father, Mr. Charulal Ahuja, that had brought him to this cemetery in the Changlang district of Arunachal Pradesh. The Jairampur cemetery was around one and a half-hour drive from Miao and around 25 kilometers from the Pangsan Pass of the Indo-Myanmar border. The cemetery is famous because it contains the tombstones of the allied soldiers, the Chinese and the Indian soldiers who fought side by side against the Japanese occupation and perished in World War II. Many local residents and laborers who were Hindus could also be found buried beside the graves of the martyred soldiers. It was an old cemetery and dilapidated with trees and thick undergrowth spilling over the tombstones. Mr. Ramprakash had trouble in locating his grandfather's tombstone at first, as the damp moss had covered the tombstone, but his efforts did not go in vain as he finally managed to locate his father's wish of giving a tribute to his late grandfather, who was a soldier of the British Empire, by offering a bouquet of flowers. Once the task was completed he left the spooky place once and for all.

It was time for him to return to Miao. There he had his lunch and roamed about the picturesque town and saw a number of angling spots on the river Noa-Dehing. Then he went to catch a bus for the Mohanbari Airport of Dibrugarh, via Tinsukia from where he had an air-ticket to return to Kolkata. The road meandered through the lush green evergreen forest along the river then it went up the hills which are covered by a carpet of green foliage. The greenery flouted its production of oxygen and after a sharp drizzle, the fresh green earth smelled so good. The psithurism was so beautiful to hear as the wind rushed across his face and hair as he occupied the window seat of the almost empty bus. The dusk had just set in and the green foliage turned a wee bit darker in the shade as the darkness from hell enveloped the forest and the road. The bus trudged along slowly avoiding potholes.

Suddenly he noticed the shrieks of a group of hoolock gibbons and one of them, agitated, emerged and disappeared in the undergrowth. The shadows were lengthening and then suddenly the driver cursed and the bus shrieked to a halt. A single large log was placed horizontally across the road. Then out of the shadows emerged the danger. Four to five armed men, possibly dacoits, boarded the bus as two-three others watched the proceeding from outside. On finding the bus empty they cursed and threatened and heckled their way towards Mr. Ramprakash.

They ordered, "Give all you got or pay the price!"

Then they took his only gold wedding ring and whatever cash they could find on him. Thankfully they left behind the debit and credit cards he was carrying. They ransacked the bus within a space of almost five minutes and they disappeared in a huff, leaving behind the hapless passengers. None had the capacity, nor the courage to protest, after all, they knew protesting would mean sure death by hacking. Some of the women passengers were crying as they had been robbed of their gold jewelry, they were carrying in person. The helper and the conductor along with the driver then quickly removed the log and they started all over again.

As the bus trudged along the road, the darkness spilled fear and anguish on the passengers. They had not even covered some two kilometers when they were again stopped by a group of men, wearing the fatigues they had met earlier. Then again they boarded the bus and much to the astonishment of the puzzled passengers started handing the looted items back to the passengers.

Mr. Ramprakash was handed over the gold wedding ring, and the cash. So were the other passengers who got back their valuables.

As they were leaving, Ramprakash couldn't but help but blurt out, "Why are you returning these?"

Spat came to the reply, "I don't want to pay five thousand rupees from my own pocket!"

Puzzled, he inquired again, "To whom and why?"

One of them threatened and replied, "None of your business! Anyone who reports this to the police would not be spared, do you understand what I mean?"

Then the dacoits started to disappear into the darkness from where they had appeared.

Mr. Ramprakash, adamantly interjected, "You didn't reply to my question?"

The lone dacoit who was about to alight from the bus after the others, nastily replied, "Bloody hell, once a dacoity is reported, the police demand one lakh and fifty thousand rupees from us as bribes. We got only one lakh forty-five thousand rupees from this dacoity. Who would pay the extra five thousand, you or your granddad?"

Before Mr. Ramprakash could answer, the dacoit jumped out and disappeared in the cover of darkness. Mr. Ramprakash realized he had survived to tell the story of how "Corruption saved the day!"