“I will do it,” said Ajay, a young man who appeared to be in his twenties. He had retreated into a corner of the small room which he and his family called home.

Monica and Malini smiled involuntarily. “That was faster than expected,” Monica commented.

“Why? How many of them did you ask?” he asked.

“You were first one actually. Since your wife said he stole something, we decided to ask you first,” Malini answered.

He sighed dully. Monica felt a deep sadness within him. His wife sat in the other corner with a little boy in her arms. The room was barely large enough for Monica alone to call home, let alone an entire family. It was overflowing with plastic household items, all crammed into a small space.

“You need to understand one thing,” he started, “I am not doing this for you.”

His wife whispered something but stopped midway when Monica turned to her. She looked concerned at her husband and had a deep frown on her face.

“Then why are you helping me?” she asked, still looking at his wife whose eyes were now aimed at the ground in front of her.

“Because I want the ring he stole,” he replied.

“So, he wasn’t pretending?” Malini asked.

He nodded.

“I thought he only pretended to. He actually wanted to get rich doing it as well. Shameless,” Malini commented. Her lips twisted into a frown. Monica felt her anger.

“Whatever it is. I am only helping you so that I can try and get it back.” He then turned to Monica and continued, “I am sorry, but we are already swimming in hate, we just don’t want any more trouble.”

“Understandable,” Monica replied.

***

The three navigated the labyrinth of streets on foot before arriving at what was supposed to be a police station. Monica was completely lost and was at the mercy of her companions to lead her back to her room. When she saw the station, she was completely surprised to see that it was an old warehouse that was forcefully converted into a police station. Policemen in their uniform were scattered before the building and on the street before it. Meanwhile there was no parking space for any vehicles, which forced them to park on the street itself.

One of the men, who was sitting under the shade of the small makeshift tent jumped in front of them. His eyes were fixed on Ajay when he asked rudely, “what do you want?”

Monica felt unease on hearing his tone. Usually, it would make her retreat herself but today she was too annoyed to be treated like that. “I am here to file a complaint,” she said.

The police officer turned to her. He was six feet tall and had a healthy muscular build. He had to look down to see Monica before asking, “what happened?” His tone had somewhat softened.

“I was stabbed,” she said holding her right abdomen, “what to file a complaint against the assailant.”

He nodded and said, “go inside. The inspector will see to your request.”

They did as instructed. All the people at the station had their eyes fixed on them. The inside of the station was neatly maintained even though it needed an update. Three tables were spread out in the room with jail cells lining the right of the entrance. Malini led the two to the table on the left which was empty momentarily. The man, who stood beside the table with a rifle told them, “Just a moment he will be here. Take a seat.”

Malini and Monica occupied the two chairs at the table while Ajay stood behind them with his arms folded. A few minutes later, the inspector walked in and greeted them before taking his seat. He took off his cap and placed it on the table before saying, “yes. What is the issue?” He had a deep voice and spoke in a cold tone, probably to appear intimidating. Monica noticed that he was an aged man. White hair covered his head and moustache and wrinkles covering his face and hands did him no favours.

“I was stabbed by a man named Siddaram. I want to file a complaint against him,” Monica asked.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“Four days ago,” she replied.

“And you are coming now?”

“I don’t have anyone here. So, nobody came in my stead.”

“Tell me what happened. And make sure you don’t miss any detail.”

Monica took a deep breath and began, “I had come to the city on work basis. Friday, I came to the commercial street to just buy myself some new clothes. While I was passing by, I heard some commotion. When I looked at it, a few men were trying to hold down a man. I thought they were beating him, so I intervened. But that man instead stabbed me and ran away. I lost consciousness after that and woke up today.”

The inspector nodded before asking, “why were they trying to catch him?”

“He stole something from one of the residents,” Malini answered.

“From him?” the inspector asked, his eyes pointing to Ajay, “what could he possibly have stolen from him?”

“A ring,” Ajay said. His voice showed no fear.

The inspector looked at him with narrow eyes but didn’t say anything. He instead turned to Monica and asked, “why did he attacked you?”

“I don’t know… we don’t know. You will have to ask him,” Monica replied.

“Know who he is?”

“I do,” Malini answered, “he owns a shop in the area.”

“Tell me the address. We will pick him up.”

***

They waited for the policemen to return and with each passing minute, Monica’s anxiety continued to grow. She, however, did not let this show, sitting still like a stone with no expression on her face. Meanwhile, Malini and Ajay were discussing something that she didn’t pay too much attention too.

About half an hour later, a police jeep stopped on the road before the station. Two men walked in accompanied by the policemen with a few more behind them. She recognized most of the faces immediately expect for one. However, seeing his acne worn face and pot belly, she guessed it was his father. He immediately walked to the inspector and asked, “where is she?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Mind your tone and stand back,” the inspector replied.

The father looked around and spotted Monica on the bench on the other side of the room. He began walking toward Monica with an angry look on his face before being restrained by one of the policemen. “Let me go!” he shouted.

“Mind your manners or I will have to throw you inside,” the inspector replied.

The father calmed down before walking back to the inspector’s table. Monica knew this wasn’t going to end well.

Siddaram and two other men stood beside the table, their backs against the wall. His father and Monica sat before the inspector while the others stood behind them.

“So, your son is being charged on stabbing this woman, Monica,” the inspector said.

“It is a lie inspector, don’t believe her,” the father replied.

Monica was taken aback by how easily he said that lie. There was no way he believed it.

“So, you are saying he didn’t stab her?” the inspector asked.

“There were a lot of people there. There was no way of knowing who really stabbed her,” he said.

“No! I saw his hand on the blade!” Monica replied. Her voice was sharp and loud.

“She was just stabbed, and they told me she fainted after that. How could she remember correctly?” the father asked.

“There was another witness,” the inspector said pointing forward to Ajay.

The father didn’t even turn to see him, instead leaned forward, and said, “you are really going to trust their words? I think one of them stabbed her and are using her to put my son in jail.”

Monica was in complete shock. She couldn’t believe the confidence with which he lied.

“What was your son doing there in the first place?” the inspector asked.

“My son owns a shop near that place. These people had come to him and demanded money. Telling him that if he doesn’t pay, they will deal with him. My son, being an innocent fool, visited their place to pay them. They must have decided what he gave wasn’t enough. And now they are spinning this story,” he said.

“That is a lie,” Malini said. She was calm and unflinched. “Everyone knows that shop shut down months ago. He and his… friends are using it for God knows what.”

“She is right. We have already received complaints about that shop. We know that no customer goes there anymore. So… why don’t you tell me the truth?” the inspector asked.

Monica wanted to smile, to laugh even, but she did neither. Instead looked at him with a cold stare. The father was left speechless. It seemed like the story he had cooked up had fallen apart and was left now without any ideas.

“He and his friends have been creating problems for us. They have been picking fights regularly,” Ajay said.

The inspector turned to Siddaram who stood quietly in his place. All the anger, hatred, and envy seemed to have vanished and, in its place, was anxiety and fear. He wore a deep frown and sweat poured down his forehead. Monica almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“Tell me,” Inspector asked.

“What will my poor son say?” the father replied.

The inspector turned back to the father and said coldly, “shut up and let your son answer.” He turned back to Siddaram and patiently waited for an answer.

“They were encroaching on our business, sir. So, I went there to tell them not to do it. They got angry and started beating me,” he said.

Monica didn’t understand what he meant but others seemed to know what was going on. Seeing how tensed people were, she didn’t try to stop and ask for details.

“So, you didn’t try to rob them? Or you didn’t try stab this woman?” the inspector asked.

He simply shook his head. The inspector nodded his head and asked his assistant, “get the FIR document.” (The FIR is an official document detailing the offense.)

“Please sir. He is just a kid,” the father pleaded.

“Whatever it is, you can discuss in court,” the inspector said.

The father quickly turned to Monica, holding on to her arm and asked, “madam please. It was a mistake. Please forgive him. He goes to jail now; he will never recover from it.”

Monica, who always had a soft spot for anyone, didn’t feel an ounce of sympathy. Her lips twisted into a frown and her face squeezed in anger. Just then, Monica said something that turned the heads of everyone in the room, “fine.”

A bright smile appeared on the father’s face.

“I will not register a complaint,” she continued, “if and only if he returns the ring he stole.”

“Monica, what are you doing?” Malini objected.

“I know what I am doing. I will not put a case if your son returns the ring he stole,” she repeated.

The father looked clueless. He turned to his son who looked at him anxiously. “Do you have the ring?”

He didn’t say anything. Monica understood why. “I am giving my word here and now. Return the ring and I will not put a case,” Monica said.

“You do realize you are letting the man who stabbed you free? That ring might be bought up in the court,” the inspector said.

“I may have the luxury to run around the court. But these people don’t. And there is no guarantee he will admit to the robbery. If he is going to jail, he might as well keep the ring and make a profit of it,” Monica replied.

The inspector turned to Siddaram and asked, “so what will you do?”

***

“Why did you do it?” Malini asked.

Evening was around the corner and daylight was slowly fading. Children were out and filled the narrow lanes of the community. Monica and Malini sat on the bench before Malini’s clinic. The events at the police station had wrapped up neatly, which was not how either of them expected it to go. All parties seemed to have left the station from where they began. While there were certainly a few bruised egos, it was not the worst way things could have ended.

“It felt like it was the best outcome for the situation,” Monica replied.

“Did you really feel that way?” Malini asked.

“Yeah. I could have sent him to prison, I was sure of that. But I also didn’t want to put the poor kid behind bars for one mistake. I was also sure that he would never return the ring. Ajay told me how it was a gift from his grandmother. So, I thought this way everyone got what they wanted.”

Malini shook her head with a sarcastic smile on her face. “You are too soft.”

“Nothing like that. I too have done stupid things in the past. There also was this ominous feeling that things would have gotten worse if I pulled this further.”

“Nobody will debate that,” Malini replied.

“Who are these people? And why are the others angry with them?” Monica asked.

“They are gypsies. People with no place to call home. They settle wherever they find space and mind their own business. Some don’t bother with them, others see them as nuisance, while still others see them as vote banks. Government drew up schemes not too long ago, made things cheaper for these people. Like any person with a brain, they began selling the excess stock for cheaper prices. Shops around here simply couldn’t compete and even people who were ignoring them started complaining about them,” Malini explained.

“Is that what happened to Siddaram?”

“Partly. The thing is neither he nor his teammates are good at their business either. Never seen a customer visit their shop in the short time it was running. Now, it has turned into a hideout where… only God knows what they do.”

“But isn’t reselling what they got for cut down prices like… wrong?” Monica asked.

“To a degree maybe. One can see it as unethical. But they are only selling stuff that belongs to them. And do you see them getting rich of this?”

Monica looked around her. The small community was built off mud, stone, and whatever could hold the roof up. Men and women of all ages looked sun baked and worn out by the weather. Children were running around the place with little to no proper clothing, wearing whatever their parents found that fit them. “I guess so.”

“Sometimes even the noblest of intentions can backfire. What the government tries may appear to work on the surface, but shortcut methods always have a catch when we try to use them,” Malini said.

The words rung true for Monica. She remembered very well how her well-intended actions caused chaos that even she couldn’t control anymore. “Yeah. We all have seen how bad things can turn even if the actions had good intentions.”

Malini had an irking suspicion that this conversation was turning personal. “And what would those actions be?”

“I was talking about the Lady in White. Everyone remembers that disaster.”

Malini smiled. “You know it takes years to build something but only minutes for it to fall apart. And the saddest part is, sometimes the forces that destroy cannot be stopped by the one who built it.”

“So, you are telling me she was doomed to fail from the start?”

“Not really. All she had to do was endure. For if she had the will, she could always forge something stronger. After all, heroes aren't born, they are made. In her line of work, she is going to always face a force trying to destroy what she had built. I suspect she never saw that the people she was trying to help would be the ones to destroy it.”

Monica scoffed and said, “you make it sound so simple.”

“It isn’t so simple or easy. It would be the hardest thing she ever did, more than fighting a goon in the street. But isn’t that what she signed up for…? Anyways, best not to speak ill of the dead.”

The two fell silent, letting the moment pass. Malini eventually asked, “so, what next?”

“I should head back to my room. Hopefully it is still under my name.”

“Go back? Like nothing ever happened?”

“Yeah. That is how my life has been always,” Monica replied.