How Sherlock Became Curlocks
How Sherlock Became Curlocks
Curlocks was named Krishnan at the time of his birth. His mother had passed away after giving birth. His father brought him up for a while single-handedly, and he too died in an accident, leaving Krishnan an endowment to take care of his expenses. His father’s friend managed the grant, and Krishnan grew up in a boarding school. He had lots of curls in his hair like the mythological Krishna, and he got nicknamed Curlocks Krishnan. There were other boys in the boarding school by the same name Krishnan, and the addition of Curlocks to his name made the distinction.
Curlocks grew up with a phenomenal memory. He can remember pictures in all its details as he was very observant. He would know how many steps were there in the library building. He would remember the number of rods in the windows in the classroom and could spot an ink mark on a classmates’ hand. He would recall the different shirts and their colors that belonged to the class teacher. He found himself in heaven when he got introduced to the famous detective Sherlock Holmes by the English teacher, and his first book he read was the Hound of the Baskervilles. Following Sherlock’s footsteps, he excelled in chemistry and was naturally good in mathematics. Mind benders and puzzles became his cup of tea. In one of the stories he read about how Sherlock derived an accurate description of Watson’s brother when all he had was a watch of Watson’s brother. He decided he would become a detective himself. But he went on to a degree in chemistry and mathematics.
When he became an adult by the legal definition, the endowment got transferred to his name. His father’s friend said the endowment was more than sufficient to manage Curlocks’ and his family life, in terms of all financial needs for a lifetime. Curlocks, to his dismay, discovered that unlike Sherlock’s story, which was fictitious real life did not provide so many opportunities for a detective.
He took to writing detective stories, which became popular. He wrote a lot of books that involved puzzles based on maths and chemistry, which sold well too. He became an expert bridge player and spent his time conducting bridge classes and organizing tournaments at the local clubs.
He had once narrated the following episode upon my request to add to his introduction. When he was 18 years of age, he had gone to his friend’s house for a game of cards. Being summertime, his friend's cousins were there along with their mom. They started to play a game of cards called the Ace of Spades. The game involved distributing the 52 cards to the number of players participating. In the first round, the person who had the Ace of Spades has to throw the card down, and others would follow suit and throw a card from the same suit. If they did not have the suit, they could cut with a color of their choice, and the person who had discarded the biggest card in the suit would have to collect the cards.
Then the person who got cut had the option of dealing another card from a different suit or the same suit. The idea of the game being those who could discard all their cards win the game, leaving the only person who was unable to drop the cards. Curlocks, with his ability, could never get beaten in this game, and he showed his prowess. In the second round, the youngest player, a girl in her teen, had the greatest number of cards, and the other player had only three cards. The boy was a little arrogant, and Curlocks didn’t like him much. He decided to help the girl. He saw her cards and knew she would win for the boy got left with a thirteenth card in the Heart suit. Curlocks guided her to play in such a way that the boy had the thirteenth card left to play.
The girl did not have the Hearts suit, and she won the game. The boy called him a cheater. Curlocks protested. He had memorized all the cards that got discarded in the game and knew that the 13th card in the Heart suit remained. Once he saw the cards in the girl’s hand, he knew that the boy had the 13th card and trapped him. Still, they would not believe him. Curlocks tied his handkerchief around his eyes and recalled every aspect of the attire the girls and their mother wore. He could remember the color of the watch strap that the boys wore. His phenomenal observation power and his memory got displayed that instant, and the group got blown off their mind. When they walked downstairs, Curlocks could tell the exact number of steps in the staircase which his friend who was living did not know. He could remember the pictures displayed in the hall with their details. The reincarnation of Sherlock got completed that day, 1st June, 1990.
When I met him for the first time, I did not know my life was taking a turn for good. I had moved into the next-door apartment. I wanted a broom to clean the floor and knocked on the Curlocks house. As soon as he opened the door, he asked you want a broom, don’t you? And he went on to fetch the broom and the dirt collector.
Later, when I went to return my broom, he offered me coffee and cookies. Curlocks said he knows that I had a lot of questions in my mind. He went on to explain: he had known through the broker that a bachelor had rented the next-door apartment, and he was expecting a knock. What would anyone require immediately than a broom to clean the house and settle down. He had also noticed the dust on my shoes and pants. When I had introduced myself, he knew from the accent that I was a Tamilian from Madurai side. About the journey by the state transport bus, he said I got profusely drenched in sweat and the ticket stub he had noticed inserted in the ring I had worn. Plus, the reasonably worn-out state of my shoes and slightly faded trousers. He also knew that I was from a modest economic background since the neighborhood was for such income group people. That also confirmed his notion about the journey by bus. He had noticed that I was a writer from the ink stain in my middle and forefingers and also from my posture, which got slightly bent at the shoulders, and lastly from my protruding belly that I was involved in a sedate job.
I laughed heartily and said that I had found my Sherlock, and he reposted, “you are my Watson.” Our journey together had begun that moment.
There is more to Curlocks, and I shall provide the reader with further insights into his character as and when the opportunity presents. This introduction, I hope, gives the reader a reasonable glimpse of Curlocks and his prowess.