On November 27, 1993, we experienced a quirky burglary at our Fraser Town, Bengaluru house. By coincidence, it happened on the day my wife gave birth to my younger son, J R Sunny, at the HAL Hospital in the city. My wife and I had moved into a rented accommodation a year after the birth of our first son, Sachin Kumar.
The gynaecologist predicted that the 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, the adorable baby boy with chubby cheeks and hair protruding from his ears 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 at the maternity home gawking at the newborn, my elder son, Sachin Kumar (barely two years old then), and I decided to spend the night at my parent's 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 ajar and the guard in a drunken stupor, the thief must have fancied his chances of carrying off a successful heist. The security guard and the three neighbours living in the same compound displayed no concern over the theft, making us suspect their involvement.
We assume the thief must have gotten in while the drunk and dozing security guard was not paying attention. After breaking through the cupboard, the offender's eyes must have lit up at seeing the chocolate boxes. Chocolate wrappers lay strewn across the floor. His sweet tooth was undeniable, as the two empty tin containers showed. Sarees and clothes were scattered everywhere, but the burglar's craving for delicious chocolates meant that most valuables were untouched.
When I showed up at the house the next day to grab some clothes, 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, and he didn't react to my greeting. A slender opening on the front door revealed the open almirah and paper scraps. I struggled to regain my composure and calculate the worth of the stolen items, which was fortunately minor.
A neighbour who stopped by to ask, scoffed at my decision and said I should brush off the incident since the loss was petty. People had varying views on the incident, like always. Certain people thought a theft occurring on a child's birthday was a good sign, whereas others bluntly dismissed it.
Nevertheless, I reported the burglary to the local police station. The constable assigned to investigate the crime scene 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. But every time we recount the comical episode, everybody goes into stitches.