Leaders are Born, not Made…

Dr. Dhiraj tells us about his being a Good Samaritan in his locality. The ladies were worried that the house had been burgled. What did he do to help them? Find out. An exclusive for Different Truths. 

In universities and colleges, when we discuss leadership, we do talk about ‘situational theory’. According to this theory, situations or some specific circumstances make a person a leader. However, theories are theories. The taste of the pudding is in the eating. A few years ago, I understood the actual meaning of this proverb. 

One evening, it so happened that while I was taking my car out of the porch to go to market, I saw some commotion outside the house diagonally opposite to ours. There was a group of seven or eight ladies along with three or four kids. They were discussing something very animatedly. Obviously, something was wrong. Being a good neighbour that I fancy myself to be, I could not leave that place without getting to the root of the issue. So, I parked my vehicle and approached the group. 

‘What happened, Aunty ji?’ I asked the house lady who was more than 70. She was clad in party wear.  She and her husband, their married son and his family were living in that mansion. All of them fell silent and all eyes turned towards me.

‘Ah beta, there seem to be some burglars inside the house. We had gone to attend a marriage.  On returning here, we heard some noises coming from inside. Your uncle and Manoj went straight to the shop after dropping us here. Now we ladies and kids are standing here. We’ve no idea what we’ve to do.’ Everything became clear to me. Their shop was in a neighbouring town, and they would not return till late evening.

‘Did you call the police?’ I asked.

‘We have been trying their number but no one is picking up. Who cares?’ She replied.

‘Hmmm’, I could say nothing else. 

Suddenly, I realised that I was no more a bystander just like most of them were. Aunty ji, her daughter-in-law and other ladies and kids were watching me with great curiosity. Having known my good Samaritan credentials, they expected me to perform some miracle. Perhaps they thought that I had Aladdin’s lamp from which I could summon a Genie for help. The cute little girl of about seven was looking at me as she would look at Salman Khan in the film ‘Tiger Zinda Hai’. Her elder brother, about eleven, however, was impassive. He did not appear to be so sure about me.

That I was the only male present there was quite intriguing to me. Where were the husbands and sons of the other ladies hiding? There was silence all around, an awkward silence, an expectant silence. I realised I had only two options before me. I could either walk away giving some stupid excuse. Or face armed burglars hiding in the house. My faith in the second Commandment in the Gospel of Matthews “Love thy neighbour as thyself” was shaking. But then something had to be done to prove that good, loving neighbours still exist.

I made up my mind. Very swiftly I went to my car and took out my baseball bat from the boot. They stood in deference, and gave me the way to let me try my luck. And to witness some action straight out of a Bollywood action movie.

The keys were already in the lock. But nobody had had the courage to open the door and step in. Slowly, I unlocked the door and went inside. Very cautiously, I moved with both hands holding the baseball bat under a tight grip.

I could see that the almirah containing the crockery was half open. The floor was littered with shards of a few broken cups and plates. I surmised that the thieves were perhaps novices. Otherwise why should they allow the chinaware to fall on the floor? My mind was working very fast. All the wisdom I had accumulated by reading detective novels was going to be put to good use. Add to it the wisdom gained by watching detective and action movies too.

There was complete silence in the house. The only sound which I could hear was the loud thumping of my own heart in my ears and tick-tick of some distant wall clock somewhere in the house. The wall clock was like a metronome. Its regular tick-tick was far less pacey than my thrumming heart. I was on my edge.

Suddenly, I heard a very faint sound. A chill ran up my spine and I just froze. It came from the upper section of the house. Did I really hear something or I was hallucinating? I could not say. Perplexed and by now sweating profusely, I waited. Stood there silently for not more than two minutes which seemed like eternity. Then the moment I began to relax thinking that it was my mind working in a tizzy, I heard a screeching sound. This time it was unmistakably clear. There was someone there on the first floor.

What to do now? Should I step back and tell the ladies to wait or call the cops? Tell them that I was too afraid to go ahead! That would mean losing my manly respect in their eyes. Or should I move ahead and have a showdown with this thief?

In such a situation, one cannot be in a state of dilemma for too long. There was no going back now. I steeled myself up for whatever was to come. With renewed confidence, I approached the stairs very silently. I could not afford to make any sound as that would alert the intruders. And they would be ready with their arms to welcome me at the top of the staircase. With slow nimble steps I crawled up the stairs. Soon I could see the entire first floor lobby. The bedroom door at the end of the lobby was shut.

There was no one there except a fat white-brown dappled cat playing with a steel cup. Ah! So the burglar was a cat! I could breathe again. I heaved a sigh of relief. The kind of sigh one heaves when the last pair of the Indian team wins the final of World Cup in the final over against Pakistan! Thief or a cat, finally I was a hero. I came out grinning. I had an expert explanation also. In a typical Sherlock Holmesstyle,Iexplained everything. How the cat might have entered the house from the kitchen exhaust vent. How it must have opened the already half open crockery almirah. How some cups and plates must have tumbled out. And how the ladies must have misunderstood it to be an attempt at burglary.

Well, I had always believed that selfless deeds and courage always pay. My belief was confirmed by the way my neighbours started treating me after this incident. From that day onwards, I gained special respect at least from the ladies of my neighbourhood. About males, I am not sure.

But two things made me uneasy after my stock went up in the eyes of the neighbours. One, I have not been able to figure out till day how a cat was not nimble-footed enough to perform a catwalk? Someone performing a catwalk on a ramp would not have disturbed the chinaware. And what if in future real burglars break into another Auntie’s house? Will I be called to confront them? Well, the first misgiving about the cats is a matter to be decided by fashion designers. The second possibility certainly gives me shudders every time I think about it. On such occasions, I forget the tinsel heroes and detective paper heroes. I only pray the next burglary attempt, if at all it happens, is also by a cat. 

Visual sourced by the author and by Different Truths