[Preliminary Note from Dr Vatsan:
These are records of some of the cases handled by my illustrious friend and colleague, the consulting detective Om Prakash, known to an admiring public as ‘Chalak’ Om on account of his astuteness and acumen in uncovering mysteries. Since he specialised in cases relating to fraud, bribery, corruption, chicanery and all manner of sharp practice, ministers and bureaucrats and the police were not always his best friends, though it is amazing how often they consulted him. This they did whenever they thought he might be of help in uncovering evidence that could fix their political or professional rivals.]
§
From among the innumerable cases filed by his trusted Boswell in his archives, there are a few investigated by my friend ‘Chalak’ Om that had outcomes which he neither promoted nor prevented, but merely deciphered and foretold. A typical member of this category of cases is well represented by the singular event of the Five Amla Seeds which may now be disclosed with the passage of time and which will, I trust, enable readers to finally acquire an insight into the circumstances leading to the extraordinary governance of the county’s major institutions in the months immediately preceding the General Elections of the year ’19.
It was on an unseasonably cold morning of early March in the capital city that the case in question was first brought to our attention. Our landlady Mrs Hardhan was a kindly and gifted provider of nourishment whose efforts were often wasted on Om’s spare and meagre appetite, for which deficiency I felt called upon to compensate: it was, accordingly, as I was putting away the last of twenty-two idlis at breakfast that morning that the first of what proved to be a regular retinue of distinguished clients, all of them heads of one or other of this country’s major institutions, made their appearance at b122 Bekar Street.
Our first visitor was the Prime Justice of the Apex Court, who arrived in a state of considerable agitation. Om, in his customary soothing manner, had no sooner seated the Justice in the armchair by the room heater and lit a Langar Chhap bidi, and closed his eyes and steepled his fingers in anticipation of his client’s deposition, than there was an interruption. Overriding Mrs Hardhan’s futile efforts at restraining him, the door was flung open to admit a second seriously agitated visitor who proved to be the Governor of the Reverse Bank of India. In less than no time, he was followed, in that order, by a shaken Chairperson of the Media Trust, a stirred Chief of the Central Vigilante Commission, a quivering Chief of the Central Misinformation Commission, and a trembling Head of the Ballot Commission.
It did not take long, under Om’s masterful handling of the situation, to gather that all of the dignitaries had come to consult him in connection with an identical occurrence that each of them had experienced that morning.
The facts can be briefly related as follows. Each of our visitors had found upon his breakfast table an envelope addressed to him. The envelopes bore no postal marks, having evidently been delivered by hand. Each envelope contained a folded message enclosing five dried amla seeds. (For the benefit of ‘Chalak’ Om’s overseas admirers, let me clarify that an amla is an Indian gooseberry.) The message, typed in bold letters, conveyed the following chilling intimation: ‘THIS IS YOUR FIRST, LAST, AND FINAL WARNING.’ Each message was signed off with a ‘ψ’.
“An assignment executed by Maurya, R. T.’s organisation, if I am any judge of these matters,” said Om. “The man’s tentacles spread far and wide, and it would have been no difficulty for his agents to suborn some member of the domestic staff in each of you dignitaries’ households and get him or her to deliver the note with its contents. Be that as it may, why have you come to me? Surely you should have consulted the police on this matter, or our premier national snooping agency?”
Also Read: ‘Chalak’ Om and the Case of the Missing Aircraft
The dignitaries shuffled their feet and shifted their eyes. “Ah,” said Om, “You do not trust our snoopers…nor each other, I should imagine. Nor do I wonder,” he added in a marked manner, following a deliberate study of the delegates’ countenances. “Well, well, not that it matters. I have been expecting him for some time now, and here, if I mistake not, is his step upon the stair—”. Even as Om spoke, the door burst open once more, the Director of the Central Snooping Bureau staggered in, waved an envelope with its by now familiar contents at Om, and then—since no set of ‘Chalak’ Om chronicles is complete without this event—he fainted dead away on our modest Pepperfry rug (acquired third-hand).
We revived the man with a snifter of Old Monk rum which we always kept handy for these not infrequent occasions, and in a few minutes, all the dignitaries were seated, albeit—in view of the limited furniture in our humble abode—in a somewhat constricted manner, with the Prime Justice having to sit upon the Reverse Bank Governor’s lap, and the Vigilante Commission Chief upon that of the Ballot Commission Head. (I myself stood on the Misinformation Commission Chief’s toes, and made the most of the rare opportunity by shifting my weight from one leg to the other and pressing down as hard as I possibly could.)
Om addressed the assembly of dignitaries. “The whole idea was to strike terror in your hearts with the vague and ill-defined foreboding of which the envelope and its contents are a harbinger. You would be filled with even more terror if you knew the source and meaning of the warnings. It calls for some specialised knowledge of these matters to infer the source, and Maurya, R. T. anticipated, correctly, that you would consult me, and that I would be in possession of the requisite knowledge. You see, gentlemen, there is no new crime upon this earth. It is a common feature of every secret society to have its own convention of issuing warnings to its victims before it executes them. To the Chief of the country’s premier snooping agency at least, I am moved to impart this advice: you really should be thoroughly acquainted, you know, with the latest updated version of Heckethon’s classic on Secret Societies of the World. If you were, you would know that the National Self-serving Sect (NSS), which is the ideological mentor of our government, has a Monitoring and Retribution cell whose job it is to warn people holding public office to demit it, on pain of—”, and here Om made a gesture by drawing his forefinger across his throat. “The warning is typically delivered in a sealed, hand-delivered envelope containing that folded message you have seen and five amla seeds. The ‘ψ’ is the trademark signature, signifying the trident, of the Monitoring and Retribution Cell of the NSS.”
“But why are we being asked to step down? We have, after all, been loyal to the ruling dispensation!”
“Quite,” said Om, knowingly. “That is everywhere in evidence. But possibly not loyal enough, especially considering that loyalties can be—ah—switched with elections looming on the horizon. As to what you do next—step down or stay on—well, that is entirely up to you.” ‘Chalak’ Om shrugged his shoulders indifferently, presented the dignitaries with his bill, and signalled that the consultation was over.
Also Read: ‘Chalak’ Om and the Return of the Dancing Men
After I had seen the last of them off, I returned to my chair and said: “Well, Om, what will they do? Resign or stay on? And if they resign, by whom will they be replaced?”
“Of course they will resign, Vatsan: they have always had a proper regard for their health. As to who will replace them, you should have no difficulty in anticipating if you were familiar with my monograph On the One-Hundred-and-Thirty-two Varieties of Godman, Guru and Sage, with Specific Reference to the Distinctive Differences and Essential Sameness of their Devices, Schemes and Stratagems. The field is presently bristling with competitors, but the most likely candidate, by my reckoning, is—” and here Om mentioned a name.
He was to be proved right, of course. The foregoing account will have enabled the reader to learn how as many as seven of this country’s major institutions—the Apex Court, the Reverse Bank, the Media Trust, the Misinformation Commission, the Vigilante Commission, the Ballot Commission, and the Central Snooping Bureau came to be headed by a single personage who earned the sobriquet of ‘Seven-in-One and All-in-All’: Yogi Swamy Sadguru Baba Sri Sri Mahamahopadhyaya Parabrahma Brahmaccharya Vedanti – III.
Athur Kannan Thayyil is an author who sometimes writes under the name of S. Subramanian.