The Master Thief by Madhab Kumar Bandyopadhyay (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📖

again remember that the law is against him. He has no public sympathy and once caught in the act he is as good as dead. He has only his knowledge, cleverness and skills to fall back upon. There is no one to help him.’
‘I get it, sir.’- Sadananda said. ‘There is time yet, think twice before you commit. There are other easier, safer and respectable trades. You will succeed in any of them much more easily.’- Bhatta cautioned. ‘My interest in this science is now more than ever before. I’ll not return. I am determined to attain all the qualities sitting at your feet,’ said Sada.

Sadananda began his training in all earnest. His teacher taught him how to observe people and estimate their wealth. In those days there were no ATM and branches of the banks were few and far between. So villagers kept their money and gold ornaments in concealed places of their dwelling houses. Gour Bhatta taught him how to guess those locations. Sadananda had to sit for hours together at night outside the village homes. Then from the sounds of the breathing of the residents he would have to find the number of people, their age, state of health and whether they were deep asleep or not. Gour Bhatta himself would check the information and correct him, if necessary.

He learnt to mimic the sounds of different animals and birds, studied their behaviors, particularly those of the stray dogs and cats. Finally he was introduced to using the sid-kathi

– an iron made instrument for cutting holes in the walls.

‘These holes must be very beautiful to look at,’ instructed his master, ‘these must be perfect half-circles. The arch created will support the weight of the wall so that no damage is done. First thing that the people will notice in the morning are these arches and they will be forced to praise the artist.’
Day in and day out Sadananda worked hard to learn all the tricks of the trade. Finally the time came for his graduation. Gour Bhatta declared to his evening students, ‘this time the exam is going to be pretty tough, the reward for the first-rank holder will also be very high. I have decided to give him my own enchanted sid-kathi. I received it from my master who fortified it using his magic power. Besides, it has been designed and made by a master craftsman.’

After the general tests were over, time came for the final test-the competition to win the prize the master had declared.

Gour Bhatta usually took a nap after lunch; his sleep used to be deep and of short duration. ‘I shall keep a bowlful of milk on my chest during my mid-day siesta,’ he told the students, ‘the doors will be bolted from inside but the windows with iron grills will remain open. At the bottom of the bowl I shall keep certain things. Without spilling a drop of milk and without disturbing my sleep you have to find out what those hidden things are. Everyday one student will try, if somebody fails he goes. If somebody succeeds I shall design a tougher task till only one student remains.’ One aspiring thief tried everyday and failed. Sadananda’s turn was on the last day.

When his turn came, Sadananda appeared with a long rubber tube. He pushed the tube through the openings between the iron rods of the window till one end reached the bowl. Then he sucked all the milk and drank it. Not a drop spilt, the bowl also remained undisturbed. He found at the bottom of the bowl three coins made of gold, silver and copper.

Sadananda graduated with flying colors. With the enchanted sid-kathi

in hand, he became invincible. He stole only from the wealthy householders and in the morning after his adventure everybody would praise the beautiful holes he made in the walls.There was no evidence or witness against him. Still the villagers all around gradually came to know that Sadananda is the great artist they praised. After each theft Police would be routinely informed and complaint lodged against Sadananada. Each time he would go scot-free for want of evidence.

Sadananda was inebriated with the adventure and the chance of showcasing his art, which his trade provided. He regularly paid Gour Bhatta his due. He kept little for his own consumption and would distribute most of his earnings among the poor. He thus built up quite a following. Wealthy villagers gradually accepted Sadananda as an inevitable part of their fate and life went on. Then one day, to everybody’s surprise, Sadananda gave up thievery and ultimately left the village. Nobody heard of him since then.
Rumor-mills worked overtime to explain the reason of Sadananda’s change of mind. I give here the version which, I think, is nearest to the truth.

One fine morning Sadananda’s agent brought the news that a wealthy villager about ten miles away had amassed great riches and was in the process of shifting those to a far away town. Sadananda immediately started for the village in the guise of a beggar. He completed his recce of the house and adjoining area to gather all the information he needed. He decided to act on the very next night, which was a new moon.
The night was perfect for Sadananda’s purpose. It was dark all around and the dogs did not bark. Villagers were all asleep. Sadananda sat for some time outside the room , which he had identified as the one where the money, gold and other valuables were stored. Sound of someone’s breathing came from the room, but it was the slow deep breathing of someone having a sound sleep. He diagnosed that the man was not too old and was not suffering from any serious disease. So he ruled out the possibility that his almost silent procedures will awaken this man.
Sadananda used his enchanted sid kathi to remove the bricks one by one as if he was cutting a mound of butter with a hot knife. He slowly removed the debris and created the most perfect half circle. His master had taught him not to enter through the hole immediately after its creation. He pushed through the hole an earthen pot painted as a human head. If, by chance, somebody was there he would hit the earthen pot and Sada would leave the place. Then he first put his two legs through the hole and gradually he smuggled his entire body into the room. All the time his trained ears ascertained that the sleep of the man in the bed was not disturbed.
Everything worked fine. Sada took a half erect crouching posture and proceeded to the vault in the room. Suddenly his advance was halted by what appeared to be rope stretched across the room and tied with the wall. The rope must have been as black as the darkness itself so Sada was not aware before he struck it. Holding his breath, he halted but the bed got a jerking. Now Sada understood that one end of the black rope was fastened with one corner of the bed.
Rustling sounds came from the bed and someone lighted a lamp. Sada felt a bone-chilling terror as he looked at the bed.

Gour Bhatta himself was sitting upright on the bed.
‘Sadananada, give me back the sid-kathi I gave you’, Gour Bhatta ordered in a firm voice. It was like the University confiscating the degree of a student, who earned it through much hard work. A tremor went through the whole body of Sadananda.
‘But… what is my fault, sir?’ Sadananda almost wept.
‘You have been caught in the act. That is the greatest of all faults.’

Don’t ask me why Guru Gour Bhatta

was present in the room that night. Honestly, I don’t know. In fact, nobody knows.

Imprint

Text: All rights reserved by the author Acknowledgement:'Select specimens of the theatre of the Hindus'- Horace Hayman Wilson
Publication Date: 05-29-2010

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
To the young readers