Balaji Corner, a musical shop, was probably the most scary looking shop of the small, remote part of the city. Though the name did not suit well for a musical shop, where musical instruments are sold, it was the last name which Swami Balaji, an old, rusty-complexion man can get. It has been completely an year, when no customer has showed up to Swami Balaji. All his workers, who used to work with him, had also left their jobs because Swamiji was not able to pay their earnings.
Now it was all his shop and Balaji himself. With deserted, empty streets outside and a dim shop, Balaji was leading a very boring life until he received a customer one day, a small boy, of about 8 or 9.
With a low creak, the small, old door of the musical shop opened, and there came a young customer there, panting as though hewas running for hours. He was a small boy, of around eight to nine years. He was a wheat complexioned boy, with gleaming and silky black hair and big, black eyes. He was spotless as snow and his eyes were deep as an ocean.
"Uh... Uncle, what type of instruments you sell? " he asked, in his squeaky, childish voice, looking behind as though seeing that no one else is coming after him.
Swamiji smiled. He was amused on hearing such a cute voice of a child. Swamiji was a delightful man who had immense love for children. He snorted lovingly from his fat, flat nose and said, " Musical instruments, son. I sell musical instrument." But then, one thing disturbed him. That thing was how such a small child was here in such a deserted, remote area of the city. He decided to ask the boy.
"Son, you are so small. How you managed to come into this backwoods of the city? And that to, alone? "
The boy hesitated. Hesitation showed up on his face very easily.
" Well, that...t...tha... I don't know. "
" Don't hesitate, son. If you'll not tell me your problem, how'll I help you? "
The boy stared at Swamiji pensively for a moment, until he broke up, tears falling rapidly from his cheeks like rain drops. Swamiji quickened his way from the counter and bent down in front of the child, and asked, " Why are you crying, boy? "
" I was being chased here, Uncle. "
Swamiji was confused.
" Chased here? But why and by whom? "
The boy whimpered.
" By some bad uncles, who were trying to send me somewhere far away from the city. "
" What? "
Balaji was appalled. Human trafficking taking up in the city? And such small children being sold abroad or somewhere else in the country? Shame, he thought.
"Okay son. You don't worry. You go and hide behind that harmonium. "
He asked the boy to hide behind the harmonium. The boy ran fast and hid behind the old instrument, covered with dust and cobwebs. It was an ideal place for a very diminutive boy to hide. And it was a dark place too.
Swamiji thought something for a while and then fastened his way towards his countered and dialled a number from his old landline. After a long talk, he cut the line.
II
The boy was fast asleep. It looked to Swamiji that the poor lad was not able to take proper sleep from a long time. He was going towards the boy only when the door bolted. Three men, with hideous pirate-like looks hurried up inside, holding guns.
" Does a boy came here shortly? " one of them asked loudly to the musical shop owner.
" No, no one. " Balaji replied, sweating.
" IT looks like you're lying, man! "
" No, not at all. " Swamiji said, swiping of the sweat from his forehead.
"Tell where he's otherwise you're..." The kidnapper stopped and pointed his way towards the shop owner, " GONE. " , the kidnapper completed his statement.
Balaji gulped. He was incoherent. Should he expose the truth or should he keep mum? He decided the second option.
"I am saying truth, no one's here!" he said, again dabbing his sweat with his handkerchief, which was very dirty and looked like unwashed from many years. This showed that Swamiji was not a man of meticulousness and was untidy.
Now the gangsters were more enraged. They what, anyone who would have seen the shopkeeper's expression, would have said he's lying.
Enraged, one of the gangsters, who looked like their leader and an important man of their gang, took a step forward. He inserted his hand into the pocket of his cut, short cargo trouser and took out a revolver. And pointed it straight on shop owner's forehead.
"This is the point where you're dabbing a lot, I see, eh? " , he paused, laughing and looking at his comrades behind, " So why not blow this head only, uh? "
Swamiji froze. His eyes were widened and his mustache, which was dyed as black as a sweep moved in fear. Sweats and sweats rolled down from his face, showing his fear.
The leader was just about to shoot until...
" Hands up! "
The police showed up !
" Don't try to move or do any movement, otherwise you'll be dead! Leave your weapons! "
The constabulary ran inside and said to the three criminals the common phrase used by all police men , " You're under arrest! "
The criminals were taken away by havaldars and the head policeman came up to Swamiji. Swamiji took a sigh of relief.
"All the other children will be rescued, and all the others who are involved in it will be arrested. I assure you, Mr.Swami. " he said.
" How to thank you, constable! I'm not able to understand!"
" Ah! It's our duty to serve the people! Instead, I should thank you because you was the one to inform us about this case of human trafficking. We are thankful to you.! "
" Well, constable. The boy..."
Before Swamiji was able to complete his sentence, the boy woke up from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms to refresh himself. As he opened his eyes, he saw a policeman with Swamiji. He was confused because he did not knew about the case of his kidnappers.
" What happened, uncle? " , he asked the shop owner.
"Now you will be meeting your parents soon, beta. By the way what is your name? "
" My name is Mantri. And when will I go and see my parents? " The boy asked cheerfully.
"The police uncle will take you to your parents. "
"Will he? " Mantri asked childishly.
"Yeah, very soon." Swamiji replied.
After hearing this conversation, the police officer said to Swamiji in his ears. " Now I think, its time to drop this child in his house. "
Swamiji nodded and told Mantri it was time to go home.
Mantri smiled and laughed. He was happy. He thanked Swamiji and waved goodbye to his life saver. And then he went away with the constabulary.
And as for Swamiji, of course, he has to look after the Balaji Corner!
Now it was all his shop and Balaji himself. With deserted, empty streets outside and a dim shop, Balaji was leading a very boring life until he received a customer one day, a small boy, of about 8 or 9.
With a low creak, the small, old door of the musical shop opened, and there came a young customer there, panting as though hewas running for hours. He was a small boy, of around eight to nine years. He was a wheat complexioned boy, with gleaming and silky black hair and big, black eyes. He was spotless as snow and his eyes were deep as an ocean.
"Uh... Uncle, what type of instruments you sell? " he asked, in his squeaky, childish voice, looking behind as though seeing that no one else is coming after him.
Swamiji smiled. He was amused on hearing such a cute voice of a child. Swamiji was a delightful man who had immense love for children. He snorted lovingly from his fat, flat nose and said, " Musical instruments, son. I sell musical instrument." But then, one thing disturbed him. That thing was how such a small child was here in such a deserted, remote area of the city. He decided to ask the boy.
"Son, you are so small. How you managed to come into this backwoods of the city? And that to, alone? "
The boy hesitated. Hesitation showed up on his face very easily.
" Well, that...t...tha... I don't know. "
" Don't hesitate, son. If you'll not tell me your problem, how'll I help you? "
The boy stared at Swamiji pensively for a moment, until he broke up, tears falling rapidly from his cheeks like rain drops. Swamiji quickened his way from the counter and bent down in front of the child, and asked, " Why are you crying, boy? "
" I was being chased here, Uncle. "
Swamiji was confused.
" Chased here? But why and by whom? "
The boy whimpered.
" By some bad uncles, who were trying to send me somewhere far away from the city. "
" What? "
Balaji was appalled. Human trafficking taking up in the city? And such small children being sold abroad or somewhere else in the country? Shame, he thought.
"Okay son. You don't worry. You go and hide behind that harmonium. "
He asked the boy to hide behind the harmonium. The boy ran fast and hid behind the old instrument, covered with dust and cobwebs. It was an ideal place for a very diminutive boy to hide. And it was a dark place too.
Swamiji thought something for a while and then fastened his way towards his countered and dialled a number from his old landline. After a long talk, he cut the line.
II
The boy was fast asleep. It looked to Swamiji that the poor lad was not able to take proper sleep from a long time. He was going towards the boy only when the door bolted. Three men, with hideous pirate-like looks hurried up inside, holding guns.
" Does a boy came here shortly? " one of them asked loudly to the musical shop owner.
" No, no one. " Balaji replied, sweating.
" IT looks like you're lying, man! "
" No, not at all. " Swamiji said, swiping of the sweat from his forehead.
"Tell where he's otherwise you're..." The kidnapper stopped and pointed his way towards the shop owner, " GONE. " , the kidnapper completed his statement.
Balaji gulped. He was incoherent. Should he expose the truth or should he keep mum? He decided the second option.
"I am saying truth, no one's here!" he said, again dabbing his sweat with his handkerchief, which was very dirty and looked like unwashed from many years. This showed that Swamiji was not a man of meticulousness and was untidy.
Now the gangsters were more enraged. They what, anyone who would have seen the shopkeeper's expression, would have said he's lying.
Enraged, one of the gangsters, who looked like their leader and an important man of their gang, took a step forward. He inserted his hand into the pocket of his cut, short cargo trouser and took out a revolver. And pointed it straight on shop owner's forehead.
"This is the point where you're dabbing a lot, I see, eh? " , he paused, laughing and looking at his comrades behind, " So why not blow this head only, uh? "
Swamiji froze. His eyes were widened and his mustache, which was dyed as black as a sweep moved in fear. Sweats and sweats rolled down from his face, showing his fear.
The leader was just about to shoot until...
" Hands up! "
The police showed up !
" Don't try to move or do any movement, otherwise you'll be dead! Leave your weapons! "
The constabulary ran inside and said to the three criminals the common phrase used by all police men , " You're under arrest! "
The criminals were taken away by havaldars and the head policeman came up to Swamiji. Swamiji took a sigh of relief.
"All the other children will be rescued, and all the others who are involved in it will be arrested. I assure you, Mr.Swami. " he said.
" How to thank you, constable! I'm not able to understand!"
" Ah! It's our duty to serve the people! Instead, I should thank you because you was the one to inform us about this case of human trafficking. We are thankful to you.! "
" Well, constable. The boy..."
Before Swamiji was able to complete his sentence, the boy woke up from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms to refresh himself. As he opened his eyes, he saw a policeman with Swamiji. He was confused because he did not knew about the case of his kidnappers.
" What happened, uncle? " , he asked the shop owner.
"Now you will be meeting your parents soon, beta. By the way what is your name? "
" My name is Mantri. And when will I go and see my parents? " The boy asked cheerfully.
"The police uncle will take you to your parents. "
"Will he? " Mantri asked childishly.
"Yeah, very soon." Swamiji replied.
After hearing this conversation, the police officer said to Swamiji in his ears. " Now I think, its time to drop this child in his house. "
Swamiji nodded and told Mantri it was time to go home.
Mantri smiled and laughed. He was happy. He thanked Swamiji and waved goodbye to his life saver. And then he went away with the constabulary.
And as for Swamiji, of course, he has to look after the Balaji Corner!
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