Miya Fooski and a Vilayati Saheb

- "Don’t move your veil even a bit. Don’t say a word. If you even flinch, I’ll stab you. Head down and sit quietly just like that. Don’t say a word. If you even flinch, I’ll..."

- Rumors began to swirl. Everyone made up their own story.

- Jivram Joshi

“Dadaji… Dadiji… tell us a story, please! Just one story!”

Sonu and Monu were at it again, their eyes sparkling with excitement as they rushed in after dinner.

Dadaji chuckled, “I knew it! The moment your plates were empty, I said to myself—here comes the story request!”

“Story time, story time!” the kids chanted in unison, bouncing on the rug like two little springs.

Dadaji leaned back in his chair, pretending to think. “Hmm… So, which story shall it be tonight?”

“Miya Fooski’s story!” Sonu shouted without missing a beat.

“Yes, yes, Miya Fooski!” Monu echoed eagerly. “We love that funny fellow!”

Dadaji smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Aha! Miya Fooski it is, then…”

And so, with a little stretch and a happy sigh, he began...

***

Vilayati Saheb (an English officer) was already caught and detained by the police when Miya Fooski reached the police station.

Miya Fooski asked, "How did you get here? What happened?"

Vilayati Saheb then shared his story. This is how it all happened:

The goons had taken Miya Fooski away, and Vilayati Saheb was left alone, sitting in the garden. The other goon, Bungalu, stood nearby, keeping watch. For a while, he just stood there, then decided it was time to escape. In a gruff voice, he said:

"Hey you woman, keep your head down and sit quietly just like that. Don’t move your veil even a bit. Don’t say a word. If you even flinch, I’ll stab you."

Poor Vilayati Saheb turned pale. He knew how dangerous thugs could be. If one disobeyed, they might strike. Until there was a chance to escape, he decided not to speak or move. He stayed frozen, quietly sitting with the thick sari wrapped around him, which was so heavy he couldn’t see outside.

After a while, Bungalu quietly slipped away. Since he had been standing behind, Vilayati Saheb didn’t realize he had left. He assumed the thug was still standing behind him. Time passed, but he stayed still.

Then the gardeners of the garden arrived. They were about to water the area. A tap was some distance away, and they had laid pipes for it.

One gardener said, "Sister, please stand up and sit elsewhere."

Vilayati Saheb thought it was the goon speaking again. So he hesitantly stood up. As he got up, the hat he had tucked under his arm slipped and fell to the ground, but he didn’t notice.

The gardener said, "Please go sit over there."

Vilayati Saheb started walking, although he couldn’t see clearly. Still, he peeked through the veil and took small steps.

The gardener saw the hat on the ground. Thinking it belonged to the lady, he shouted, "Sister, your hat fell!"

The kind gardener picked it up and went to give it to Vilayati Saheb.

"Here, your hat," he said and held it out.

Vilayati Saheb slightly lifted the veil to take the hat. The gardener saw the beard and was shocked. Was this a woman or a man?

He quickly went to another gardener and told him. Soon, a group gathered and began observing.

"Hey, this person doesn’t walk like a woman."

"Look at that sari! It’s not worn properly."

Just then, a pant leg slipped out from beneath the sari.

"Wait, that looks like a trouser leg!"

The gardeners were truly shocked.

"Run! Inform the police. This person is definitely in disguise!"

A gardener ran to the nearby police post and reported the matter. The inspector and a few constables rushed over. Vilayati Saheb had only taken a few slow steps when the officers reached him.

Seeing the police running, people started gathering. A large crowd formed. "What happened?" one asked.

"A thief has been caught," replied another.

"What’s going on?" asked a third.

"There’s been a murder!" said a fourth.

Rumors began to swirl. Everyone made up their own story. With police at the front and the crowd behind, everyone ran to the garden.

The inspector approached Vilayati Saheb, looked him up and down, and said, "Stay where you are. Move even a bit, and you’re done."

Vilayati Saheb thought it was the goon again, so he stood completely still. The crowd grew larger and louder. Hearing the noise, Vilayati Saheb thought, people are here. If I shout now, maybe the thug will run away or get caught. The sounds grew closer. Vilayati Saheb decided it was the right time. He threw off the veil and shouted loudly:

"Help! Somebody help me!"

He screamed repeatedly. But just then, he saw a constable standing nearby and an inspector pointing a pistol at him. Seeing this, he froze.

"Criminal! Keep shouting!" the inspector yelled.

Vilayati Saheb was stunned. Why was he being called a criminal?

"Your tricks are exposed now. No more acting!"

"Tricks? I’m a military man. Who are you?" asked Vilayati Saheb.

"What? You don’t know who we are?" the inspector responded.

"No. And where did that goon go? Did you catch him?"

"You think you’re not the goon? Who are you? The leader of the thugs?"

A constable chimed in, "If not the gang leader, then surely the leader of some scam."

Everyone burst out laughing. Vilayati Saheb was confused. He thought perhaps the inspector had come to catch the thug but mistook him instead.

"You must be the inspector," he said.

"Yes."

"Then shake hands. I’m a military man. I respect officers."

He extended his hand. The inspector got angry. He had a small stick in his other hand and struck Vilayati Saheb’s hand with it.

"Ow! Ow!" cried Vilayati Saheb, clutching his hand. His face twisted in pain.

"Criminal? You call yourself a soldier?"

"Yes, I served in the army for 30 years."

"And now you’re doing this kind of scam?"

"What scam?"

"You’ll understand soon. Come along."

Vilayati Saheb was now worried. Why were they catching him instead of the thug? And now calling him a criminal!

"Please explain, why are you arresting me?"

"Why are you wearing a sari?"

"Just for fun. When we got off the train, the compartments were crowded. Miya Fooski had the idea that if we dressed like women, we could get seats in the ladies’ coach."

"And where is Miya Fooski now?"

"He was taken by the thugs."

Everyone laughed again. They thought Vilayati Saheb was making up stories.

"Let’s go to the station. You can explain everything there."

Two constables grabbed his arms and led him away. A big crowd followed. News reached the main police station. Senior officers arrived. The whole mess now reached the police station.

All the officers gathered.

Vilayati Saheb began to understand. Because he wore a sari, someone must have reported him to the police, thinking he was a disguised thief.

He stood in front of the officers.

"This is all a big misunderstanding. The truth is, my friend Miya Fooski and I came from Abu. At the station, there was a huge crowd. Long lines. Mischievous Miya Fooski suggested we wear saris to get seats in the women’s coach. We did. We got seats. We got off near the garden. We came here to change, but some thugs thought we were women and followed us. They took Miya Fooski away. That’s what happened."

The officers were surprised. It all sounded like a farce. They even laughed. But they still needed to verify the story.

"We must check if this is true," said the chief inspector.

"Don’t release him without investigation," said the district officer.

"It sounds like a comical trick," said the judge. "But confirm everything."

"I’m a retired army officer. I live in Abu. I have a good reputation with the officials there. Please investigate," said Vilayati Saheb.

"We will. But till then, you must stay in custody," said the inspector.

He was locked in a holding cell. When someone is suspected of a crime but not yet proven guilty, they are kept at the police station. This is called custody. Such suspects can only be held for 24 hours unless a magistrate gives permission to extend it. Otherwise, the person must be sent to jail.

The magistrate was present and gave permission to hold Vilayati Saheb for seven days.

The inspector sent messages to Abu and deployed undercover officers for investigation.

Three or four days passed. Then Miya Fooski returned.

He told the inspector everything about the thugs. The police quickly filled a truck with constables and rushed to the hideout of Jhudalu and Bungalu.

Both goons were arrested.

Miya Fooski was praised and rewarded for his help.

And they lived Happily ever after.