Hero meets Heroine....Part 2

AbdulAbdul was a pickpocket, no doubts about that. But he was human too.

And siAnd now, sitting with that letter a hapless mother had written to her brave daughter, he couldn’t help tthelp thinking that this surely wasn’t the kind of money he wanted to make. From the purse of a girl who wwho was no less than a heroine for him. In his eyes she measured up like a Florence NightiNightingale or a Rani Laxmibai of Jhansi, not that Abdul would have known any of them.

So heAbdul decided to rush back to the restaurant from where he had pinched her wallet. And he decidedecided to quietly put that wallet back where it belonged. In her big bag.

He entHe entered the restaurant, quickly moved towards the table where the girl had been sitting and sure esoon enough, he spotted her.

She loThe girl looked worried and was surely looking for her wallet. Perhaps the shock of having lost the wallet wallet had kept her frozen here, rooted to the spot where she had been sitting while having her lunch.

He wAbdul only wondered if she had reported the matter to the police, or to the manager at the cash countecounter. Apparently not, he concluded, considering the generally calm air around the counter, because at such kind of places even a single, small incident could lead to a big uproar and commotion.

He quietly slid closer to her table and spotted the big bag. He was lucky, its mouth was open. He lost no time to pull it a bit more open and to slip the wallet in. I hope she doesn’t have to worry about money any more, he said to himself, recalling that he had slipped in another 600 from his side into her wallet before entering the restaurant. And that was almost two days’ worth of labour from his side…..

Suddenly he found himself being lifted off his feet and by his collar. Two big built men had seen him slipping the wallet into the bag. They lost no time in yelling out, firing obscenities at him and landing a few blows on his back and on his head. He received a few hard slaps too.

In no time, a large crowd had collected.

“Saala, chori karta hai? Ladki ke purse mein se paise nikaal raha thaa……maaro isko….peeto isko……!!” they cried.

It rained blows, his clothes were ripped apart. He was bleeding profusely now, he could taste the blood on his lips, and his eyes were closing even when he tried to keep them open.

Seconds before he passed out, he could just manage to see the outline of the girl’s face as she stepped forward and slapped him very hard on his face.

“Sab chor hain yahaan par”, he heard her scream.