The burglar who loved chocolates
BACK in November 1993, there was a quirky burglary at our house in Fraser Town, Bengaluru. It happened the day my wife gave birth to our younger son at a hospital. We had moved into a rented accommodation a year after the birth of our first son. The gynaecologist predicted that my wife would give birth on November 23. Yet, the little bundle of joy made us wait longer than expected. The inordinate delay gave the family members plenty of anxious moments. After an impatient wait of four days, a baby boy finally arrived. After my parents delivered the glad tidings, I was so thrilled that I sped to the hospital without locking the house’s front door.
After spending the day gaping at the newborn, my elder son (barely two years old then) and I decided to spend the night at my parents’ place. I was unaware that by leaving the main door of my house ajar, I had unwittingly given the burglars the licence to sneak in during the night.
Unfortunately, the watchman picked the wrong day to indulge in a drinking binge. With the main door open and the guard in a drunken stupor, the thief must have fancied his chances of pulling off a burglary.
We assumed that the thief must have entered while the watchman was drunk as well as asleep. After breaking open the almirah, the offender’s eyes must have lit up at seeing the chocolate boxes. His sweet tooth was undeniable, as the two empty tin containers showed. I found chocolate wrappers lying strewn across the floor. Saris and clothes were scattered everywhere, but the burglar’s craving for chocolates meant that most of the valuables were left untouched.
When I reached home the next day to grab some clothes, the sight of the guard lying on the ground the aftereffects of the night before made me pause. An empty bottle of alcohol and a few used food containers were beside him; he didn’t react to my greeting. A slender opening in the front door revealed the open almirah and paper scraps. I struggled to regain my composure and calculate the stolen items’ worth, which was fortunately minor.
A neighbour who stopped by to enquire scoffed at my idea of lodging a police complaint. He suggested that I should simply ignore the incident since the loss was petty. As always, people had varying views on the matter. Some thought that a theft occurring on a child’s birthday was a good sign, whereas others strongly disagreed.
Nevertheless, I reported the burglary to the local police station. The constable assigned to investigate the crime admonished the watchman for drinking and sleeping, but the latter seemed unfazed. The chocolate thief never struck again, and the cops, as usual, swept our complaint under the carpet after a while.
