The Mysterious Maid

Bobita had been working in my house for three years when the most detestable disaster struck. She was around forty years and her behaviour was a little out of the ordinary and eccentric. She was thin and preferred to appear in jeans. Her most disagreeable habit was to smoke brazenly in the presence of people. But she didn't neglect the household chores entrusted to her. She was extra clean and so were her habits also.

One thing we didn't like about her was her reticence. My wife had given her a dainty mobile phone when she thought it was necessary. We never saw her carrying the gadget. She lived in a room downstairs. It appeared that she was a repository of mysteries. We decided to give her a small portable tv but she showed little interest in the offer.

I'm an old-fashioned type and still use cash when it comes to financial transactions. My wife is far more advanced than I am in this respect. My elder brother and my younger brother excel in these matters. I marvel at their ability to learn new things related to computers and electronics. I always admire and adore such tech-savvy people, but hardly ever try to learn from them.

A childhood friend named Sujit once called me in my residence and told he instantly needed twenty thousand rupees. I said to him, "Now it's 3:30. I'll pay you tomorrow. The bank might have closed by the time I reach there. "

"Your ATM card? You can pay me in a jiffy. . !You don't use sbiyono?"

I felt embarrassed and allowed some anxious moments to elapse.

Sujit ate some fruit, drank coffee and said he would take the money next evening. He took leave of me thanking my wife heartily for the good coffee.

I went to the bank next morning and withdrew twenty five thousand rupees. On reaching home I kept the money in the drawer of my office table. I had walked eight kilometres early in the morning as per the advice of my diabetologist. I was feeling uncontrollably sleepy and after having counted the money somehow, I fell asleep in an armchair till it struck 12:30 pm. When I got up, my first concern was to check the money. And to my greatest shock and astonishment, I found the money missing!I was stunned. . . !

My wife Kajol returned home from work towards 4 pm in the afternoon. She found me devastated and I narrated the whole incident to her. Our first target of suspicion was Bobita because after I got up I saw that the room had been cleaned and the litter on my table cleared. Bobita didn't like me being a litter-lout. Trembling with rage, Kajol hurried downstairs. She found door of Bobita's room simply unlatched. She never used a lock. Bobita was not inside. Kajol phoned her but her phone was switched off.

"Where is Bobita then?" I said with a sigh.

"Where is Bobita then. . ?"Kajol mocked. "She must have left the city. . Or must be somewhere we can't know. . Shall we report her to the police. . ?"

"I don't think there is anything worthwhile other than that. . . . " I answered.

My mobile phone started ringing. I heard an unfamiliar voice. It said, "Sir your maid Bobita Sen is seriously ill. . . Please come to Smriti Hospital at IRC village. "

I had seen the location. We drove there. . I was both confused and upset. Kajol sat tight-lipped all through the twenty-minute long drive.

When we reached the private hospital and found our way to Room 28, we were told that Bobita's blood pressure had become drastically low. An auto-rickshaw driver who knew us had taken her to the clinic in a very critical state. That she survived the low blood pressure level was nothing less than a miracle. I cleared her treatment dues forthwith since her monthly salary was overdue.

"Sir and Madam I have not stolen your twenty-five thousand rupees. It's not me. . Your suspicion is baseless. Let's go home. . "

I thought to myself, "How are you able to know my money i. e rupees twenty-five thousand is stolen unless you're the culprit. . ?"

Kajol and Bobita entered the car. We started the short journey back to our home at Santoshi Vihar. As we were about to enter Santoshi Vihar, Bobita insisted we turn right towards Badagada. I was sure the maid was either going to betray us into the hands of some notorious gangsters or was bent on taking revenge upon us as we had sent home her cousin brother after he had been implicated in a local robbery. He was driving our old ambassador car, the duty being to drive Kajol to work in the morning and bring her back home in the late afternoon. We entered a narrow lane. There was a very small temple. Adjoining the same was a low shanty whose roof was a sheet of black tarpaulin.

Bobita was indignant. "Look at that son of a bitch. . ! He has stolen your money. . !"

"Look at him. . How he is guzzling foreign liquor. . ?"

We saw the Nepali night watchman Kumar Thappa inside the shanty. There was a big whisky bottle. Some chicken pokodas were on a plate. We loved Thappa a lot. He had been very polite and gentle with us. Now we could hardly believe our eyes. An infuriated Bobita thundered at the man, "Return the money, I say. . . ! Otherwise we will call the police. . "

Thappa returned the money to us with downcast eyes, but it was short of three thousand five hundred rupees. We drove back home. On our way home, Bobita told us that Kumar had seen me keeping money in the drawer. He had caught a glimpse of the cash in my wallet at the newly-opened Patanjali ayurvedic medicine store and had followed me without my knowledge.

"But how are you able to know this. . ?"

She ignored my question and said to my wife, "Madam you have been through my belongings. . . . You have searched them thoroughly. Both of you wanted to get me arrested, didn't you. . ?"

Then she said indifferently, "There is no room for honesty in this world. . "

Both of us felt deeply ashamed. After some time, she said, "Madam a promotion awaits you. . !"

Honestly speaking, in a few days she was promoted to the post of the Principal of her school. But when my wife praised her forecast, she told us strictly not to spread any news about her, otherwise she would leave. At that moment, something unearthly in her eyes scared the daylights out of me. After that, she resolutely refused to discuss the otherworldly side of her life. Life went on as it did previously, but we developed a new kind of genuine respect for her. She played with small children and street dogs like a child.