<p>It was February 11. The cold wave of winter swept as I hurried back on my moped along the Old Airport Road at 4 pm. The day had been hectic, lecturing to students and preparing for the science practicals of II PUC. <br /><br /></p>.<p>After parking the scooter, I dashed to the bakery to order some sandwiches for my children. As I took the sandwich packets to head back to the apartment, my daughter joined me on her return from school. We both walked home and unlatched the front door, which flung open without the need for a key. <br /><br />I was gripped by a sense of panic and felt the adrenaline surge in my body. I rushed inside my bedroom and found the display of open, empty jewellery boxes on my bed. The almirah was ajar and the clothes had been strewn around in disarray. <br /><br />Shouting aloud, I went to seek the help of security guards who adorned the “IN” and “OUT” gates mindlessly. A robbery had occurred and the guards and the neighbours only came to witness the incident. A series of calls were made to my husband and then the police. Looking at all this commotion, a neighbour in his late 70s enquired, “Is everything lost?” I just nodded trying to be strong. He finally said, “At least keep all your clothes properly.” Though the advice zoomed off my head, I urged myself to think positively and arranged the clothes. <br /><br />I cried aloud. Someone said call 100. I mechanically followed. Amid all this, my little son, studying in class 2, came in just then. I quickly took my children into another bedroom, and handed over the sandwiches to them. <br /><br />My son, Abhi, started enquiring about the chaos in the house from his elder sister. She told him that we had been burgled of gold jewellery. At that instant, my son said, “Thank god, all the trophies and medals adorning the showcase have not been stolen, they are also gold medals!” <br /><br />My daughter responded saying, “They aren’t real gold, Abhi.” My children looked helplessly at me and exclaimed, “We lost gold, ma!” I immediately embraced them both, assuring them that gold could be earned back but they were my real treasure. I slowly swallowed the lump in my throat.<br /></p>
<p>It was February 11. The cold wave of winter swept as I hurried back on my moped along the Old Airport Road at 4 pm. The day had been hectic, lecturing to students and preparing for the science practicals of II PUC. <br /><br /></p>.<p>After parking the scooter, I dashed to the bakery to order some sandwiches for my children. As I took the sandwich packets to head back to the apartment, my daughter joined me on her return from school. We both walked home and unlatched the front door, which flung open without the need for a key. <br /><br />I was gripped by a sense of panic and felt the adrenaline surge in my body. I rushed inside my bedroom and found the display of open, empty jewellery boxes on my bed. The almirah was ajar and the clothes had been strewn around in disarray. <br /><br />Shouting aloud, I went to seek the help of security guards who adorned the “IN” and “OUT” gates mindlessly. A robbery had occurred and the guards and the neighbours only came to witness the incident. A series of calls were made to my husband and then the police. Looking at all this commotion, a neighbour in his late 70s enquired, “Is everything lost?” I just nodded trying to be strong. He finally said, “At least keep all your clothes properly.” Though the advice zoomed off my head, I urged myself to think positively and arranged the clothes. <br /><br />I cried aloud. Someone said call 100. I mechanically followed. Amid all this, my little son, studying in class 2, came in just then. I quickly took my children into another bedroom, and handed over the sandwiches to them. <br /><br />My son, Abhi, started enquiring about the chaos in the house from his elder sister. She told him that we had been burgled of gold jewellery. At that instant, my son said, “Thank god, all the trophies and medals adorning the showcase have not been stolen, they are also gold medals!” <br /><br />My daughter responded saying, “They aren’t real gold, Abhi.” My children looked helplessly at me and exclaimed, “We lost gold, ma!” I immediately embraced them both, assuring them that gold could be earned back but they were my real treasure. I slowly swallowed the lump in my throat.<br /></p>
