Anyone who is foolish enough to trust people should immediately

make room in his life for betrayal because given the right reason and
benefit to self anybody will cheat anybody else. This is not merely a
conjecture based on my experience of but a statement of a fact
The Heart of a Lock:
Chapter 1
Continued from the notebook (But I fooled myself that I didnt)
And ventured an answer that proved fatal to life as I knew it.
Why do you like me? I asked him trying to suppress the suspicion
behind the question.
Do you want to learn it or not?
No, I dont. I lied.
But I want to pay you, he insisted, this is the only thing I can give
you. You will never have to use it if you dont want to. What is the
harm in learning something useful? Someday you might lose a key and
the skill will come in handy.
That was a persuasive argument. But he didnt know that I didnt need
to be persuaded.
Okay, but dont we need a lock, a locked lock.
Heres one he said and pointed to fat bronze lock that hung at the
bottom of the shutter beside us.
But that belongs to the owner of the tea shop and he is right there.
I dont know then. You find me a lock. I will teach you how to unlock it.
At this point, even if he had refused to teach me, I wouldnt have let
him go. I really wanted to learn how to pick locks. Suddenly, within my
mind, a side of me that I knew existed but wished it hadnt had woken
up. I pictured all the rooms I could just walk right into, all the suitcases
I could magically open, all the homes and I was scared. I had never
before stolen anything in my life, at least not until that moment. But all

that was to change soon and drastically. And by the way, there arent
many options between stealing and not. Either you are thief or you are
not. I at least wanted to know what it was like to be able to steal and
desist.
I dont know where we can find a lock. And I have to go to the class
Then go. He said nonchalantly.
No, I want to. I hesitated saying the words, but then blurted it out in
an awkward flow of thoughts. I want to learn how to, like, open things I
dont have, or, or lost keys to. I want to help my friends open the locks
in case
He laughed jerking his thin shoulders and the skin on his famished face
wrinkled unattractively.
I dont think your friends are going to like that kind of help.
I laughed against my intention and said, Youre right. I should go the
class.
Then why arent you?
I dont know. I need a cigarette. My thoughts are suddenly not clear to
me.
I walked in and got two cigarettes and offered it to him. He took it
without a word. We both lit it from the burning end of the jute rope. The
moment the nicotine kicked in I knew what I wanted.
Do you know how to unlock bikes?
Easier than you think. He said and blew the smoke through the corner
of his lips.
Really?
Yes, find me a bike. Ill show you.
I walked him to students parking lot and I couldnt help smiling at the
knowledge that in a moment I could ride any of them.

So, which one?

Anyone. I said, still smiling.
He lifted up his longyi and pulled out of a whole bunch of keys from
inside. There must have been at least hundred or some keys on that
loop. The sunlight bounced off them and hit me in the eyes. Then I
noticed that the bulge on his right side was actually the keys. And just
as magically he pulled out a triangular file and a flat piece of iron that
had a hook-like fold on its top. He held his tools in his hands and looked
at me for some sign of approval. I nodded eagerly. He slid in one of the
keys into the slit that is meant for it and shook the handle bar hard.
When he pulled it out, there was a fresh dent on the side of the key. He
filed into it and repeated the procedure. This time he also slid in the
iron piece. Nothing. He pulled out the key, filed it and put it in again.
He did it five times before the lock was undone. The handle bar
swiveled freely and the light indicating that the bike was ready for
ignition showed in yellow color. I was not merely happy. I was ecstatic. I
realized the whole range of possibilities this kind of thing unlocked,
literally. I was taken in completely. It looked liked black magic.
See, I told you it was very easy.
I didnt know that it was that easy.
It is. Do you want to try?
Yes. Tell me how to do it.
We then walked over to a new bike. A green, garishly altered sportsy
looking bike with stickers only insiders of the racing community
understood. When he handed a key to me, I tried to imitate him step
for step. I slid in the key, wiggled it and shook the handle bars and
pulled out the key. There was clear dent on the key.
He gave me the rusted file with rags wrapped on it for handling and
said, You have to
Dont say anything. Let me try this. I interrupted. I cut it slowly and
carefully and slid in the key with the iron and wiggled it and I heard
something snap. I was afraid that the iron might have broken but when

I pulled it out, it was whole. It was the lock. It had been un-locked. I
had gotten it right the first time. But it was not just the bike which got
unlocked but also the lock on the cell which held as its prisoner the
criminal thief within me. The handlebar swiveled and the light shone
bright and yellow. From that moment, besides the pieces of metals in
my hand, I knew that no other force could stop me from getting what I
wanted. He was amazed by my dexterity. I was amazed by my
dexterity. He thought I was born thief or something, a natural, an
undiscovered prodigy, an unexploited talent, a landmine of
opportunities that had grown thick with weed because of negligence.
And now that I had stumbled upon it, I saw it as my duty to clear it out
and put my gift in perspective and use. How? I whispered to myself in
surprise and it was double-question. How did I not know that I was
this? How do I now use it? I knew that I didnt possess an answer to the
second question and I knew who did. It was the strange, starved little
thief who stood beside me. He beamed at me, as if he had found a
worthy heir to his legacy. In fact, he had and we both knew it.
Now you have paid me for the first cigarette. How are you going to
pay me for the second one? I asked.
Do I have to?
Yes, you do. I said and we both laughed like to two thieving brothers
that we were.
All this may give off the false air of being completely immoral and
indecent, but that is quite off the mark. I too, like anyone else, was
born in a neigbour-fearing middle class Indian family and raised on the
common bourgeois crap that passes for morality here. I imbibed all the
virtues that made me polite and agreeable at the dining table and
everywhere, to my parents, siblings, relatives, friends and teachers
and everyone else. Some may wonder what my virtues are. Ill tell, for
instance, that I have never cheated a friend. But that may be because I
never had any friend I cared for enough to cheat. Or two, I would never
kill dogs, but I am not very sure if I can parade it around as a good
quality, since putting down rabid dogs is a kind of civic duty that would
elicit considerable praise from the public. And I would never force
myself upon a person, of any sex or no sex at all for that matter, to

have intercourse with me if they dont want to, that is I would never
rape anyone. Now if that is not a virtue, I dont know what else is. But
theres a hitch in this one too. Even though I wont force myself on
others, I am not so sure about forcing the other person to have forcible
sex with me. I call this one the reverserape and I dont know how it
works since I have never tried it before in my life. So I dont pass
around the no-rape policy as one of my qualities. I would never kill
anyone without a reason or a prior justification. I can go on and on. I
am a really virtuous person after all. So when I first learnt the art of
stealing, I was very ambivalent about the act, but when I thought of it,
my conscience was clear once again. Breaking open a piece of stupid
metal, I harm no one in the act and that was quite enough. Stealing is
the better of two evils. I will not be going into its alternative now
though its quite common and popular among the ethical ones.
The heart of a lock the world around me
IF you are caught in the act
a)
b)
c)
d)

Dont try running away from the scene

Go on your knees and start weeping your eyes out
Curse yourself and beg to be punished
Slap yourself, throw yourself on the ground and grovel like a little
girl

By this time, your audience should be crying with you

So I am not blameworthy at all and neither is my childhood (brought

up) or any other phase of my life. But somewhere within me, a patch of

my soul that so far remained covered in darkness was recovered and

revived to life that day. (I knew that trouble brewed in this place.)
Death is the lesser of two evils.
Bourgeoisie morality... I dont cheat on friends I dont kill dogs The
heart of a lock before they are dubbed as ethnic, racial or lingual
problems.. they are basically human problems and even more
simply.. animal and natural problems