Shyam Sundar's Underwear

October 2nd dawned bright and sunny. Shyam Sundar woke up fresh and vibrant, all set to face the day. Suddenly he recalled that it was a holiday. It was Gandhi Jayanthi. He smiled. At last he could indulge himself. He charted out the day's plan mentally. He would water the plants, walk Mr. Subramanian's dog, read the latest Harry Potter and go over to Sumi's place. Not essentially in the same order. He would probably go to Sumi's first. The dog could wait. And so could Harry Potter. He had been looking forward to a quiet date with her, at some secluded spot, where he could bare his soul to her. He loved her so much. Oh, yes, yes, yes!!! The very thought pepped him up.

He brushed vigorously, and splashed water on his face. He felt revitalized, and very, very cheerful. He had been working very hard lately, and he sure deserved this break. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror and said, "Shyamu, sweetheart, you have a great day ahead!"

He quickly finished the breakfast that Veda Mami delivered as usual and set off, leaving the carrier near the front door - a usual practice that he had been following ever since he moved into Nogo Nagar.

As he was about to lock the grill gate, Shyam Sundar noticed that something was amiss. He could not identify what it was, but it made him so uneasy that he retraced his steps to the front door. Then he saw it. There, on the floor was a footprint. He knelt down beside it and examined it carefully. It sent a shiver down his spine. Then he cautiously looked around. Just then something caught his eye. The clothes he had hung on the clothesline were all messed up, and something was missing. Quickly he got up and went over to investigate. He recalled having put to dry eleven pieces the previous evening. He counted them..."eight, nine," he finished. "Huh??" He counted again. The towels were there. So were the lungi and the vest. The two new shirts were there too. And the tattered jeans and two handkerchiefs. So what was missing? He scratched his head, trying to figure out which two clothes were missing. "Bingo!" he said aloud. "My briefs! Two of them!! They are gone!!"

Commotion on the ground floor drew his attention. Shyam Sundar rushed down the stairs to see his landlady talking agitatedly to their neighbor. Both of them were so animated that Shyam Sundar was amused. After a few minutes, both the women noticed him observing them and abruptly stopped talking. His landlady gestured for him to come down. He walked up to her and asked, "What's the matter, Veda Mami?"

"There has been a burglary! Ambujam has lost jewels worth Rs. 15,000," she said, pointing to the other woman.

"And Mr. Malhotra who stays in the third house from the temple has lost silverware and cash," said the excited Ambujam Mami.

"Oh…" said Shyam Sundar, "Mami, I lost two of my briefs. Imported ones..."

The two women exchanged glances. Then Veda Mami said, "Shyamu, don't tease us!"

"No, Mami, really. Two of my briefs are missing. My favorite ones, too! I think it's the work of the same thieves," reiterated Shyam Sundar.

Veda Mami let out a disgusted snort and chided him, "Go away, you creep! Making fun of a serious situation! Hmph!!!"

Seeing that there was no point in trying to convince Veda Mami, Shyam Sundar decided to do something about it himself. He went back upstairs and dialed 100. Half an hour later, the colony was buzzing with activity. Two police vans and a couple of press reporters were interrogating all the residents. Most of them were very forthcoming, enjoying all the attention. Each person had his or her own version to the story. One old man said, "They ran towards Veda Mami's house!" Another woman stated, "They were carrying a huge bundle! There were two of them. I saw them!"

In the midst of all the chaos, Shyam Sundar managed to get through to a constable. He said, "Sir, two of my imported briefs have been stolen," The policeman gave him a weird look and turned away. Shyam Sundar tapped him on his shoulder and said, "Sir, you have been registering complaints from all victims. Please write down my name too. I need my briefs back very badly."

"Oh, shut up!" growled the livid constable. "People have lost jewels and silverware worth thousands of rupees and you crib about a couple of useless underclothes!"

"Useless? What do you mean useless? Maybe you don't wear them. But I do, and my briefs mean the world to me. And I want them back. At any cost! If you are capable of recovering whatever all these people lost, then you must find my underwear too."

By this time the constable was fuming. He screeched, "Will someone take this madman away?!!" Then he looked straight into Shyam Sundar's eyes and bellowed, "Get out of my sight! Before I kill you!"

Shyam Sundar obeyed meekly. Then he decided to try his luck with a press reporter. He went up to him and cleared his throat. The reporter looked at him curiously. Shyam Sundar sheepishly fished for his business card in his pocket and handed it to him. The reporter looked at it. For a few seconds, the reporter looked at the card and at Shyam Sundar, seemingly sizing him up. Then he asked, "Do you have any specific information?"

Shyam Sundar cleared his throat again and began, "Well… I live in house number 110. I am also a victim of yesterday's robbery."

"I see. What did you lose?" asked the reporter with renewed interest.

"Two imported briefs," stated Shyam Sundar straightforwardly. There was no trace of embarrassment on his face.

The reporter looked staggered. Then he spat out, "Look mister, if you think you are being funny, let me tell you how wrong you are! This is not some silly joke. We are talking thousands of rupees worth of jewelry here. Not a pair of briefs! For God's sake! Let us do our work. If you can't contribute anything worthwhile, then just stay away! Don't act like a wise guy, trying to crack jokes..."

"Who's trying to crack jokes," interrupted Shyam Sundar. "I am serious. These people may have lost thousands of rupees. But to me, my briefs were worth more than a million dollars. They were a gift, do you understand? Someone very close to me gifted me those on my last birthday. And to me they are invaluable. Absolutely priceless. And for all the insults you just hurled at me, let me tell you something - balls to you!"

Then he stomped out of the place, seething with rage. He took the stairs, two at a time, and went back to his room. He decided to read Harry Potter after all. It would take his mind off the current issue. He didn't intend to reach Sumi's place in a foul mood.

Sometime later, Shyam Sundar looked at his watch. It was 3.30 pm. "Gosh! I better leave now," he said to himself. He got up from the sofa, and placed the book on the table. He walked into the bathroom. Just then, the telephone rang. "Hello," he said into the receiver.

It was Sumi. "Hi, Shyamu! Guess what? I'm going to Shimla. I'm leaving now. What do you want me to get you from there?" she asked fervently.

"Uh… no... nothing. You have a great trip," said a disappointed Shyam Sundar. Then he hung up.

This was by far the worst holiday Shyam Sundar had had in years. First, he lost his underwear. His precious underwear. He still couldn't get over the loss. And to top it all, his plans of a nice date with Sumi went for a toss. "God, why does this always happen to me?" he wondered. Then he thought, "Gandhiji wanted India to be so safe that a woman could walk around in the middle of the night with jewels adorning her body. And look at where we are today… no safety even for your favorite underwear! Sigh!"

Then he settled back down resignedly to finish the half-read book.