Beware of Brutus

Every afternoon, when Rohan returned from school, he changed out of his uniform and waited for his friend. Hamza lived down the road, and the moment he arrived both of them would set up a badminton net between the gate and the garage. They played tirelessly until they had to part ways and settle down to their homework.

Badminton was Rohan and Hamza’s favourite sport, and the driveway of Rohan’s house proved to be a perfect court; well, almost! If the shuttlecock was struck too far to the left by a player, and missed by his opponent, it could fly over the compound wall. This did not matter as long as rs Sharma lived next door. When the shuttle first landed in her garden, she smilingly tossed it back to them. The second time, she called out to the boys, “Whenever this happens, please feel free to climb over and collect it.” Since the wall dividing her spacious residence from Rohan’s smaller one was not too high, that was easily managed.

“Why don’t you play on my lawn?” suggested Mrs Sharma. “It’s far more convenient.” Rohan and Hamza were delighted, but before they could take her up on her generous offer, she fell ill and moved away to live with her son.

Rohan and Hamza took a break from badminton before and during their board exams. Once that ordeal was finally over, they continued with their pleasurable pastime, pausing briefly to recall kind Mrs Sharma and wonder how she was doing. 

One evening, the shuttle whizzed past Rohan and over the wall. As he prepared to retrieve it, he was startled by someone who popped up on the other side, with the shuttle in his hand. “Let this be the last time,” snapped the grim-faced young man, throwing it rudely at Rohan.

“We have to be careful,” said Hamza, but the following day, the shuttle took off again. Engrossed in an exciting contest, the boys abandoned caution. Hamza leapt over the wall and back. “I was so quick that the dragon couldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled, but he was wrong. Later, when the boys passed Mrs Sharma’s house on their way to buy snacks, a board outside proclaimed: ‘Beware of Brutus!’

“He’s got himself canine company!” said Rohan. Not long ago, he had been bitten by a stray dog, and had no wish to face an aggressive animal. Hamza was no less disturbed. “As if we haven’t had enough of Brutus,” he muttered, referring to ‘Julius Caesar’. He and Rohan had read and reread that play for their exams, and knew it thoroughly. “I’m sure this Brutus is a brute.”

Rohan nodded. “Yes, the dragon’s dog is likely to be as fierce as its master. What shall we do, Hamza? We have looked forward so much to resuming our daily routine, after weeks of being glued to our books. Now, just when we don’t have to worry about studies for some time, there is this tiresome obstacle.”

The next morning, armed with extra shuttlecocks, the boys played nervously. “Stick to smashes and drop-shots,” urged Rohan. Hamza hit high, however, and the shuttle vanished. “No!” yelled Rohan, as Hamza jumped across.

“Get out of here!” shouted the man who had warned them before. “Get out before I let Brutus loose.” He almost grabbed Hamza by his collar, but the boy escaped.

When they had lost their last shuttle, Rohan and Hamza looked gloomily at each other. “I thought you’d like to have these,” said a pleasant voice.

An elderly gentleman, with twinkling eyes, was holding out three shuttlecocks over the wall. “Mrs Sharma is my sister,” he explained. “She told me to invite you to play here. I’m your new neighbour. You may call me Shyam uncle.”

“But, who’s the drag...?” began Hamza.

“That’s Dinesh, my gardener,” said Shyam uncle. “He’s terrified of trespassers, and insisted on putting up that silly notice.” 

“Then Brutus does exist!” exclaimed Rohan.

Shyam uncle placed a fat furry cat on the wall. “Meet Brutus,” he said, stroking the beautiful creature. “I got him in Rome. He’s aptly named, don’t you think? Remember how Mark Antony describes Brutus?” 

“The noblest Roman of them all,” chorused the boys in unison.

Shyam uncle beamed. “I see you know your Shakespeare,” he said approvingly. “Now, how about a game in my garden? You never ever need to worry about Brutus.”