THE MANGO HEIST.

347

Year:1985

Place: Anushakti Nagar-BARC

Characters: Sab ek se badkar ek!

Anushakti had a lot of mango trees. A few of them in and around my building too. It was fun to pluck mangoes from them. And what made it even more joyful was, IT WAS NOT ALLOWED to pluck from them!

We had a Wednesday and Saturday market where one could get kairi’s at a very reasonable rate. But usmein mazaa hi kya hai?!

There is something about plucking a mango, and eating them. So tasty! And a dash of salt and mirchi powder- aaha!!! Pure, pure joy! 😊 and amma made awesome chutney with the mangoes…yumm…

(Please allow me a moment…the thought of it is just mouth-watering! Gulp)

Haan…so, it was that year, and mango season. Bharpoor mangoes around.

It was around 7 p.m. one fine day, when I was passing by the dispensary. I casually looked up, and WOW! Itnaaaaaaa saara aam! Kuch karna padega.

I reached home, called for a family (well, selective members :P)meeting. Young Vasant mama, young Prakash kaka, Bandu bhai, Anand and me.

To plan the M-heist! The mango heist! Roles were allotted, the plan was sketched. Dinner was done. It was now time. 11 p.m. We leave home.

Grinning, unable to contain the excitement, walking towards the dispensary, taking the shortcut. With a bucket in my hand to gather the mangoes.

There is not much activity around. We reach the location.

The streetlights dim enough…or, bright enough to just see the mangoes.

Bharpoor hai re aam! Excitement grows among the fraternity.

Bandu and Anand would climb the tree as planned. Fataafat.

Kaaka and Mama would collect the mangoes thrown by them from above.

(Ok, wait. Let me tell you, while playing cricket, Vasant mama dropped catches, effortlessly. And we called him Rapya mama. But when it came to catching mangoes, he would put a Jonty Rhodes to shame! Such skill, such focus I tell you. Kamaal ekdam. He would skilfully catch a mango judging just by its falling woooshh sound!)

My job was that of a Santri- a watchman to see if the watchman or maali was doing rounds or coming by. Of course, it was most critical to the mission!

So now, Bandu climbed the tree. Plucked 3 mangoes at one go and started dropping them one by one. Mama caught them. Negotiating the branches, Anand plucked a few more, dropped them. Kaka and mama both caught them. Dhapadhap, mangoes falling, and catches happening. I looked out for the security or maali. A 360-degree watch. No one in sight. We continued the heist.

And as we almost filled up the bucket, my peripheral vision sights a shadow. Aila…maali? The shadow was cast by a person…walking swiftly towards us.

“Maali aaya!!!” I shouted in panic! And that panic spread! Bandu and Anand jumped from the tree and started hurtling helter-skelter!

Bhaaagooooo!!! Shouted mama, picking up the bucket and running towards the post office. He hid the bucket behind the post box.

We were all over the place! Mama tried to hide behind a tree, but damn, he was big and easy to spot! And the maali caught him.

To our utter surprise, Bandu was caught by another maali who sprung out of nowhere.

Kaaka, from where he was, saw that Mama and Bandu were caught, so he came out. (No, not playing hide and seek here!)

Anand followed suit.

They pleaded to the maali- please, sorry, jaane doh na.

But no, he was not the one to budge!

“Chalo thane…police thane” he said.

Whatttttt? Police station?!

Jaise hi maali bola Police station, kaka pointed out to the bucket– “ji who poora aam rakh lo.”

What an offer to make! Bucket bhar ke aam!

But-for the maali-it was Teri toh, bucket bhar ke aam toda?! His resolve grew stronger!

Scared to go home and face the barrage of questions from DADA (my father) all alone, I decided it’s better to be beaten by a maali than face Dada. So, I too surrendered.

That didn’t improve anything!

Leke gaya re humko police station! The security was called and they took us to Mankhurd Police station! Can you believe it?! For merely plucking a bucketful of mangoes from trees growing in the open!

I was terrified, imagining being put behind bars. JAIL! Maaaa kasam! Barbaaad hai!

We pleaded to the havaldaar, but he was in no mood to listen.

He said “ek jan jaao, aur apne pitaji ko leke aao…fir dekhtai, fir hi chodega”.

Now now…who would go? None of us wanted to go get my father! An angry dada is more dangerous than Mogambo…(10 times Mogambo!)

We pleaded. We begged. “saab, jaane doh na…fir se kabhi nahi karenge”.

The havaldar, shaking his head in disbelief, said pointing to Kaaka and maama “Bacche log theek hai…Tum log bhi?”

Kaka: “saab, aap sab aam rakh lo…poora”

Whatt the!! This totally antagonised the havaldar and he almost picked the lathi! (hahahah, I just can’t stop laughing, now, thinking about the emotions that ran there!)

The pleading went on for 30 hours…or so did it feel. But the clock showed just 30 minutes.

The police were not the ones to budge. I thought its inevitable that I have to call my dad.

So I said aloud to mama-“Mama, mai jaake Dada ko bulaake laata hoon”

The havildar looks at me.

He turns and looks at his colleague behind. And swiftly looks at me again.

“Sala dhamki detai? Dada ko leke aaega? Kaun dada re? Bahut dada log ko iss laathi se thik kiya hai…kaun hai ye dada?” and he goes berserk, swinging the lathi connecting it to my bum! Fataaakkk! Fataaaak!!! Oiillllaaaaa!!! Mera bum!!!

Massive confusion! He thought I was referring to some Bhai/Gunda/Daada to bail us out!

Hahahahahah sometimes words can just play with life!

“Arrey uncle, nahi nahiiiiiii, (I was doing a sort of dance, jumping on one leg, and another, with the knees bending, hands covering the butt, evading the laathi!)

Pitaji ko hum log dada bulaate hain” I said in whatever voice(s) that came out!

And only then did he stop the lathi charge, if I may!

JAA…BULAAKE LA…yeah, that echoed.

I ran home and told my father quickly about the incident.

Understandably, he was furious!

He said “Its ok. Jail mein raho. I am not coming”.

My mom was like…”Idhar ek peti bharke aam hai…why would you want to pluck mangoes? And that too at this hour?”

In my mind, I was thinking- iska mazaa hi kuch aur hai! But now was not the time to explain the ‘joy of plucking mangoes!”. I doubt they would get it 😐

After much cajoling, dada agreed to come. We went to the police station. Poor dada, stood there embarrassed in front of the police, to bail us out!

There was lecturing by both, the police and by dada. We just nodded, head hung for a bit, nodding in acceptance for a bit. And finally, they let us go! We were free!

What an evening it was!

An attempted heist so beautiful, where M for Mangoes supersedes M for Money, or the mangoes it could buy!

“Theek hai Dada” said the policeman with a smile, looking at dad. “Sambhaal lena inko”

And they too referred to him as dada, with love.