be open so early in the morning?’ Verma ji asked him.
‘Why should I go to the market in the morning, we do our shopping on the weekends,’ Gupta said.
‘Ok then why are you dressed formally?’ Varma ji asked.
“Varma ji, what sort of question is that? Where else would I be going at this time of the day but to my office,’
‘Today, you are going to office?’ Varma ji started laughing.
‘ Why what is the matter with today?’
‘Can you tell me the date?’
Gupta Ji check his watch and said,’ It is 26 January…why can’t you check your own…….’
He stopped half way through his sentence. He realized why Verma Ji was laughing. It was 26th January and a national holiday.
‘A government employee, going to office on 26th January, and that too before time. That is something new,’ Varma ji was holding his sides as he laughed.
Gupta ji had to admit that the situation was a bit funny.
‘Oh, I just forgot all about it,’ he said, and turned around his scooter.
‘Verma Ji, do you want a lift,’ Gupta said.
‘No, I will complete my jog. As it is it’s been years since I have sat on the back seat of a scooter, have got too used to a car,’ Varma ji said and jogged off.
‘Hmmpf arrogant fellow,’ Gupta thought and returned home.
By the time he reached home, the children were awake. They were all laughing as he came in.
‘Didn’t you know it was a holiday,’ said Manish.
‘Don’t make fun of Papa,’Malli was always a supporter of her father, but even she found it funny and was smiling.
‘What about the bottle of milk? Are you going to do anything about it or not?’ Suvarna had only one thing on her mind. Gupta ji sighed. Today was a holiday. She was going to pester him about the missing bottle. He wished he had gone to office.
Mallika was looking out of the window. She could see Mohit standing on the lawn in front of the Verma’s house. He was exercising with a pair of dumbbells. After a few repetitions, he would drink from a plastic bottle and walk around a bit. Mallika looked intently at his firm body and felt a shiver pass through her. A thought came to her, ‘What if Mohit was taking the bottle of milk,’ she thought. ‘He might be doing it to grab my attention,’
Mallika liked that thought. She went towards the mirror and looked at her self. She looked closely at her face. No, there were no new pimples. The old ones had subsided. The face cream was working. She took the comb and started brushing her hair.
‘One, two, three…,’ she counted. ‘It must be Mohit. He likes me’.
She went out into the verandah, to a chair, which was in a corner. From there she could clearly see Mohit. She liked to think that he could also see her from there. Then she saw her brother, Manish walking around near the front door steps.
Manish was looking carefully at the ground near the steps. The path leading towards the steps was paved with tiles.
‘What would Sherlock Holmes have done in this case?’ he thought. ‘I will have to base my deduction on scientific facts. The mystery of the disappearing milk bottles’
He looked for footprints, and then realized there could be none on the tiles. Then he looked carefully for fingerprints. He went inside, brought out the tin of talcum powder, and started dusting the floor all around the steps.
‘Manish, what are you doing there?’ shouted Gupta from inside the house. He could see his son powder the floor but was not able to understand why.
‘Oh nothing,’ Manish said and quickly went in and returned the talcum powder to its place. He went out and sat down on the step, looked up, thought for a few minutes, and smiled. He knew what had happened.
‘It is aliens who are stealing our milk bottles,’ he told his mother. ‘Every night they come in and take one bottle and beam it back to Mars’
Suvarna looked at her son and sighed. Alas, the boy had got his brains from his father.
‘ Why would they come all the way from Mars and steal one bottle of milk?’ she asked him
For a moment Manish did not know what to say.
‘They want to experiment, see what we humans eat,’ Manish said. Manish knew it was pointless to argue with his parents. They would just not understand and argue pointlessly with him. He ran out and looked at the lawn closely.
‘ A UFO landing on this lawn is sure to burn some of the grass,’ he thought.
‘Tonight I will sit late ad catch them as they land. Then I will have irrefutable proof and become famous. I could also get the Nobel prize for this,’ he thought.
He spent the day roaming around on the lawn and that night was too tired and fell asleep half an hour before his normal time.
Early next morning, as usual the milk van came at five. By 5.10 AM, the milkman had climbed up the stairs and put down the five bottles. He took the four empty bottles, which were lying there, turned, and descended the steps to the waiting van below. For a few minutes, everything was quiet then there was a rusting in the bushes. The leaves parted and out walked Billi, Varma ji’s pet cat. Billi had never had it so good now that these people had moved in to this house. She was not interested in chasing rats. That was lot of hard work. She made her way towards the bottles and stood there looking at them. She looked all around. There was no one there. It was still dark, but as a cat, this was not a problem for her and she could clearly see her way around. She climbed on to the steps and gently nudged one of the bottles with her nose. It rolled over and fell on the doormat. From there she nudged it inch by inch to the rose bushes. There Billi, clawed the silver cap with her sharp nails and made a small tear on the top. As the milk flowed out, Billi lapped it all up. Billi looked at the empty bottle lying on the ground and rolled it over where it joined two other bottles, all hidden within the bushes. She had seen a few other bottles and made her way back to the front door.
As she neared the steps, she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. The newspaper boy came in the morning with the Gupta’s selections of newspapers and magazines. The boy saw the cat and aimed a kick in its direction. Billi growled at him and jumped out-of-the-way just in time. She then ran out of the lawn and disappeared in the dark.
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About the Author
Manoj Nair is a ‘weekend writer’ and is based out of Mumbai, India. The son of an Army officer, Manoj has travelled across the length and breadth of India. His stories and novellas are a reflection of life in India as seen through his eyes. Married with a college going son, when not writing he is a Senior Manager with a Software development Multi National. Read more of Manoj’s stories at https://www.shortstoriesforall.com/
You can also reach him at
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