The Klepto

Like most women, Shilpa had a weakness for sales. She loved buying things she didn’t need. And if they cost less, all the better. Why, just yesterday she had had a discount haircut. A friend’s friend was apprenticing at a swank saloon and had offered to cut her hair for half the price. Shilpa needed no second invitation. She had gone in for a complete makeover. Trading her hitherto long tresses for a chic boyish cut.

She was dying to show it off to her friends. Wait till they hear how little it cost, she chuckled with glee. It would be the talk of the town. Little knowing that she would be the talk of the town in the days to come. And in a not-so-nice way. All thanks to The Incident.

The day The Incident happened, Shilpa was rushing to the mall. She had seen the magic words SALE SALE SALE in the paper. Oh, she couldn’t wait to loosen her purse strings. She left home seconds before the clock chimed ten. She wanted to be the very first customer, you see. So you can imagine her surprise when she discovered a mile long queue outside the store. Apparently a lot of women had the same idea.

The whistle blew. The shutters lifted. And a wave of excited women carried her inside. There she was. Inside the store. During a sale. She felt like Alice in Wonderland. She swirled around in the ocean of humanity. She liked everything. Everything. Was that the gown she had oohed and aahed over in last year’s catalogue? Gosh, that was last season’s IT bag! Her hands shook as she surveyed the price tag. At that price? It was her lucky day. She clutched it close to her chest and headed for another killing.
 
She could do this for hours. But didn’t. Not because she had another engagement. It was just that she had sworn to herself to be thrifty. She would only get what she needed. Not what she wanted. Was there a difference, she had once asked herself. Those days were long behind her.

She didn’t want her desires to get the better of her. So she tried the oldest trick in the world. Headed for a sale with limited cash and no plastic money. Enough for the lovely calfskin bag. She was happy. She got what she wanted. She wasn’t going to look around, she thought looking around. Too late. Her eyes fell on the lacy lingerie. Gosh, she had to have it. The woman next to her was eyeing it with similar admiration. No, Shilpa couldn’t let this go. She grabbed it before the woman’s talons even touched it.

She could afford this dress. Not today. But on another day, she could. And she would pay for it. Just not right away. That wasn’t stealing. She had every intention of paying for it. Perhaps, she would leave an envelope along with an anonymous note after the sale. Yes, that sounded reasonable. She debated no further. She cast a furtive glance around and quickly stuffed the negligee into her bag. Thank God, big bags were al the rage now.

She had a lucky escape. In the hustle bustle, no one noticed her lapse of virtue. So imagine her surprise when the same afternoon, she heard from Mrs. Ahuluwali, a busybody to beat all busybodies.

“Hi, Shilpa. How are you?

“All well, auntyji. How have you been?”

“Is mom there?”

“Aunty, she has stepped out to the parlour, where else?” she said with a practiced laugh she kept reserved for these gossip types.

“Oh, I wanted to chat with her.”

Don’t you always, thought Shilpa, rolling her eyes. Heavens, I hope she doesn’t corner me. The last thing I need right now is gossip. She braced herself to hear the worst about some of parents’s friends.  

“Shilpa, you are my friend’s daughter and you know…”

Here it comes, thought Shilpa.

“…That’s why I am telling you this.”

Shilpa was concentrating on her nails, working the emery board swiftly.

“Please don’t mind. I would have spoke to your mom but…”

You can’t wait to gossip. You are literally salivating. Oh, drop the act, aunty. You ain’t fooling anyone, thought Shilpa.

“Beta, what I am about to tell you is none of my business…”

So why are you, thought Shilpa with a shake of her head.

“…But if someone does something wrong, it is my moral duty to point it out. “

And have fun at the person’s expense, added Shilpa under her breath.

“If I see some crime being committed…”

Crime, did the fat lard say crime? Shilpa’s breath caught in her throat. No, it couldn’t be. Or was it? Was it remotely possible? Had Mrs. Ahluwali seen her shoplifting? Shilpa let out an expletive.

“What did you say, beta?”

“Oh, nothing aunty. Please continue.”

Shilpa cursed herself inwardly. She had scanned the room before plucking the thing, it was a deserted section. The CCTV monitors didn’t work during the sale, she knew that from experience. She had been careful. Obviously not careful enough. These aunties were dangerous. They had eyes everywhere.  

Shilpa held her tongue. Aunty was going to have a gala time berating her with this. And what if she ratted to Mom? And dad? There would be a bloodbath at home. Shilpa couldn’t begin to imagine the repercussions. Her best friend, the credit card, would be cruelly snatched away from her, her shopping expeditions would be curtailed, she would be tailed….

Mrs. Ahluwalia’s gravelly voice broke into her morbid thoughts. “I think Monty has a problem.”

To those who came in late, Monty happened to be Shilpa’s brother. College dropout. Ne’er do well. The black sheep of the family. The only one not to have joined the family business in three generations, the poor thing. He couldn’t stick to anything. Remember how when we are kids, we think of being a new thing everyday. Doctor one day, scientist another. Monty was like that. Only thing he was 28 years old. But he didn’t have a single mean bone in his bony body.  

What on earth was Mrs. Ahluwali talking about? Why was she dragging poor Monty into this mess? Wasn’t it enough that Shilpa had tainted the family name?

With great difficulty, Shilpa found her voice.  “Err, what sort of a problem, aunty?”

“Well, he likes picking up things which don’t belong to him.”

“Which is a polite way of saying that he is thief,” retorted Shilpa.

“No, no. Malati said it is a disease….”

Malati, thought Shilpa gnashing her teeth. Second in command of the gossip operations conducted in their locality.

“….What did she call it? Keepomania or some such fancy name, beta. She said it happens to well-off people. They steal things just for the fun of it. Tch-tch.”

“how can Malati aunty be so sure that Monty suffers from it?” shilpa piped up.

“Well, last week Malati was shopping at All Seasons Mall….”

“Malati aunty shopping during a sale? Wow, that’s news to me.”

Mrs. Ahluwalia laughed nervously. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. No respecting aunty would be caught dead shopping at a sale. “Heh heh, anyway, she saw him picking a negligee  at a sale and stuffing it into a bag.”

“Malati aunty saw Monty doing that?”

“Yes, beta. She said she found it strange that he was carrying a ladies bag and was dressed in tight jeans and a pink top. Pink top, would you believe. Bad disguise, I tell you. Malati saw only his back but one look at those messy curls and she knew it was him right away.”

Shilpa’s heart was pounded. Thanks to her newly cropped hair, Malati aunty had mistaken her for Monty! Of course, hadn’t all her friends commented that she and Monty finally looked like brother and sister?

Shilpa swallowed hard and tried her best to act nonchalant. “Why didn’t Malati raise an alarm? She had caught him in the act, after all,” she asked aloud.

“Family honour, beta, family honour. She and your mom have been friends for donkey’s years. How could she do that to her?”

So she had confided in the city’s worst gossip. Great, thought Shilpa, wondering how she had missed seeing Malati aunty. Maybe she was wearing a disguise herself.  

She knew (from experience and from Mrs. Ahluwali’s reputation) that it was too late. Mrs. Ahluwalia wouldn’t have lost a moment recounting this tale to everyone she knew. All around the locality family friends would be chewing on this juicy bit of news. Shilpa could imagine phones ringing off the hook, tongues wagging, solicitous tones clucking, “My my, the apple had fallen far from the tree”, “Never did trust that boy,” “Poor Mrs. Sarin, imagine her son turning into a thief.” As the Chinese whispers progressed, poor Monty’s escapades would be amplified, his faults magnified. She was sure they would soon be calling him a terrorist or something right across the street.

Shilpa was a loyal sister. She had stood up for her brother in school, bashed the bullies who made him cry in college and had even waived off the cash he was supposed to gift her every Rakhi. But this situation was extraordinary.  And as we all know, extraordinary situations call for extraordinary measures. In this case, her hands were tied. There was no way in hell she could give herself away. Better Monty than her. He had a bad name, anyway. No one would be surprised at his latest feat. But she had a reputation to uphold. What if Rishabh (her latest crush who lived across the street) got wind of it? No, she couldn’t risk spoiling her name at this stage (or any other) in life. So she had little choice but to agree with her Mrs. Ahluwalia.

“Aunty, you know how Monty is. I will try drilling some sense into his thick skull. I will do what I can.”

“Such a good girl, you are. Monty should learn something from you.”

“Yes, aunty. Could you do me a favour?”

“Anything you say, beta. You are like a daughter to me.”

“Just don’t breathe a word about this to mom and dad. You know, they have been looking for a good rishta for him for months now. They will be crushed and it would really ruin everything.”

“Arre, of course, I won’t. I called at this time fully knowing your mom won’t be at home. I don’t want to create trouble.”

I’m sure, thought Shilpa.

“Beta, as a close friend of the family, take my advice. Take Monty to a doctor before he steals something else. I can’t see such a nice handsome boy going down the drain.”

Shilpa had her doubts about Mrs. Ahluwalia’s altruistic motives, but she was grateful nevertheless. She replaced the receiver and heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God, mom was out. It wasn’t easy to fool any mom and nearly impossible to fool Shlipa’s. In any case, she had seen the lingerie, that incriminating piece of evidence, hanging in her closet and even commented upon it.

Mrs. Ahluwali was as good as her word. It went against her basic grain, but she didn’t spill the beans to the parents. She made up by telling everyone else. As for Shilpa’s mother, for months on end she wondered why Monty wasn’t getting a suitable girl from their vast circle of family friends and why they were giving vague reasons for turning him down. Shilpa, ever the dutiful daughter, never failed to lend a sympathetic ear to her mother.