"Come on, come on, lets go !" Already late for my appointment at the dentists, i had been shouting at my son to hurry and get dressed, so we could leave. As he emerged from his room, i grabbed my bag, from the table and rushed to my mother in law's room. Ailing from the past month, she had been bed ridden. The maid had been given strict instructions to remain at home till we returned. She seemed asleep, so closing the door gently, i retreated to the hall, even as the door bell rang.
Pulling it open with a hand, i found myself face to face with two young men. "Courier ? " the word died in my throat, as i was pushed back inside roughly. The two jumped in and closed the door. "Hey ! What the hell do you think you are doing ?" this from my gallant youngster, as he drew himself to his full height of five and a half feet plus about half a foot of upright gelled hair. Wordlessly, they pushed me down onto a chair, one whipped out a knife, a small pen knife, actually, that he put against my throat. I noticed that his hand trembled slightly against my throat, though i was trembling so much i could have given him a run for his money too ( poor choice of words). "Move," the bigger one of the two said, "And he'll split her throat." I could see the stunned look on my son's face as all the belligerence went out of it. Replaced by a kind of desperate fear. The maid, stood in the doorway, also frozen with fear. Turning to my son, he said, "Keys. Quick. Give me the keys to the cupboard. " A small signal, from me indicated that it was inside the room. Herding my son and the maid towards me, he turned to go in. " Shyanpatti nai karne ka. ( Don't try any tricks) Varna." (or else). He drew a finger menacingly across his throat. To our panic, however, he headed into grandma's room. Before we could say anything, we heard him yelling at her to keep still. In a world of her own she didn't react at all. When he realised she was not even moving, he started throwing open cupboards flinging things into a bag he carried. By now i had recovered sufficiently to know that the boy in front of me was a novice, i mean, he was sweating almost as profusely as i was ! Seeing the gleam in my eye, my kid, alarmed, said an urgent, "No, Ma. !" A rather sharp one. What happened next, was utter mayhem.
The thief, swung around to look at my son, mother hen instincts kicking in, i leapt up, swinging my huge bag, with its sundry knick knacks, as hard as i could. The boy holding the knife, had no chance. As he collapsed in a faint at my feet, my son, the amateur karate champ, aimed a kick which probably had the poor lad incapacitated for a week. The commotion had the second thief running in, and we collectively froze again, as he brandished a pistol at us. The lull, however was temporary, as we looked on in open mouthed horror, grandma teetered behind him and before we could react, had biffed him with, of all things, her bed pan! In tandem, we raced towards them , my son and i, while the maid flung open the door and raced out, setting up a banshee screech of her own. Another karate kick from my son, took care of the bewildered thief. My son dialled my husband and the police, while i tried to tie up the thief's hands, with a charger cord.
After peace and grandma had been restored (With all her exertions and the sudden flow of adrenalin, she was difficult to contain. She lay on her bed, tremulously regaling awestruck neighbours with the embellished tale of how she had single handedly caught the thief, and saved her beloved grandson from harm.)
As for my husband, he never ever complained about how big handbags were getting these days..
Pulling it open with a hand, i found myself face to face with two young men. "Courier ? " the word died in my throat, as i was pushed back inside roughly. The two jumped in and closed the door. "Hey ! What the hell do you think you are doing ?" this from my gallant youngster, as he drew himself to his full height of five and a half feet plus about half a foot of upright gelled hair. Wordlessly, they pushed me down onto a chair, one whipped out a knife, a small pen knife, actually, that he put against my throat. I noticed that his hand trembled slightly against my throat, though i was trembling so much i could have given him a run for his money too ( poor choice of words). "Move," the bigger one of the two said, "And he'll split her throat." I could see the stunned look on my son's face as all the belligerence went out of it. Replaced by a kind of desperate fear. The maid, stood in the doorway, also frozen with fear. Turning to my son, he said, "Keys. Quick. Give me the keys to the cupboard. " A small signal, from me indicated that it was inside the room. Herding my son and the maid towards me, he turned to go in. " Shyanpatti nai karne ka. ( Don't try any tricks) Varna." (or else). He drew a finger menacingly across his throat. To our panic, however, he headed into grandma's room. Before we could say anything, we heard him yelling at her to keep still. In a world of her own she didn't react at all. When he realised she was not even moving, he started throwing open cupboards flinging things into a bag he carried. By now i had recovered sufficiently to know that the boy in front of me was a novice, i mean, he was sweating almost as profusely as i was ! Seeing the gleam in my eye, my kid, alarmed, said an urgent, "No, Ma. !" A rather sharp one. What happened next, was utter mayhem.
The thief, swung around to look at my son, mother hen instincts kicking in, i leapt up, swinging my huge bag, with its sundry knick knacks, as hard as i could. The boy holding the knife, had no chance. As he collapsed in a faint at my feet, my son, the amateur karate champ, aimed a kick which probably had the poor lad incapacitated for a week. The commotion had the second thief running in, and we collectively froze again, as he brandished a pistol at us. The lull, however was temporary, as we looked on in open mouthed horror, grandma teetered behind him and before we could react, had biffed him with, of all things, her bed pan! In tandem, we raced towards them , my son and i, while the maid flung open the door and raced out, setting up a banshee screech of her own. Another karate kick from my son, took care of the bewildered thief. My son dialled my husband and the police, while i tried to tie up the thief's hands, with a charger cord.
After peace and grandma had been restored (With all her exertions and the sudden flow of adrenalin, she was difficult to contain. She lay on her bed, tremulously regaling awestruck neighbours with the embellished tale of how she had single handedly caught the thief, and saved her beloved grandson from harm.)
As for my husband, he never ever complained about how big handbags were getting these days..
hilarious! loved it..
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