Truth is stranger than fiction

 In the year 2002, Mr. P. K. Roy, a resident of Kolkata, requested a diamond merchant to find a valuer for a big diamond in his possession. It was a 32-carat Golkonda diamond, no less!, set in a gold ring. The broker turned up with a valuer at his house. The way they conducted themselves and handled the stone made Mr. Roy suspicious and he asked for the stone back. The broker swiftly took out a pistol, pinned Roy to the ground and asked his accomplice to run away with the stone. He too, legged it successfully.

Mr. Roy filed a police complaint. The police traced the whereabouts of both the merchant and his accomplice but could not locate the stone. They thoroughly searched the house of the accomplice several times. Mr. Roy approached the court. The case ended recently after the stone was recovered and handed over to Roy. It is currently valued at Rs. 15 crore.

The accomplice lived on the first floor and below the staircase there was a switch-board. All these years, the diamond was tucked away, neatly wrapped in paper, in one corner of the cavity of the board. The police passed it several times when they conducted their searches. Suddenly, a few months ago, one policeman, just felt like it and looked at the cavity on a whim. The board was outside the accomplice's home and so no one had looked for it there.

The judge invoked a Feluda story (Feluda was a fictional detective created by Satyajit Ray) where a thief hides a precious stone in the mouth of a stone lion, the  carrier of goddess Durga.

(The Times of India, 14 August 2023)

True story

 Newspapers reported it a few years ago.

A family of poor migrants went to Sangli. They found a comparatively deserted spot and put up a small hut there. Next day, mother and daughter in the family went to the river bank to wash clothes. Men in the family had gone in search of work. The son, hardly 11 or 12 years old, wandered a little away from them, found a nice spot and put his feet in water there. So much water was undreamt of luxury to them.

Suddenly a big crocodile sprang up and pulled the boy in the water with half his body in its fearsome jaw. The boy, the mother and daughter cried and shouted. The croc kept coming back to the bank and it flogged the body of the boy repeatedly. Only after some time, the croc's fury abated and it withdrew.

The horrified women ran and brought some nearby people with them. The boy was dead and his corpse had vanished. They were told that there were crocodiles in the river; it was their mating, breeding time and they were awfully aggressive during this period.

What misfortune! What an end to an upcoming, innocent young man!

Have I ever pondered over this aspect of poverty? Migration is necessary as your own place cannot support you. Some word of mouth from known persons takes you to a strange place. You know nobody there. Everything is alien. The place, topography, seasons, daily temperatures - nothing is known to you. You have no money, no contacts. You will just get by and eke out a living. Or you won't because of accidents like this one.

The news may or may not reach others. In any case, how much time will be given to the death - howsoever gruesome - of a stranger?

Everything is stacked against the poor.