He was easily native looking like any other typical illiterate farmer. With a rice bag in one hand and his shirt pocket clenched with the other, he entered the village collector’s office. Reaching the table of a busy officer he waited for sometime, cleared his throat and said, “Sir, I am a farmer, I’ve come to hand over gold coins”.
”Sorry”, the officer cut him short, without even seeing him on his face; “The loan section is at the extreme right”.
The farmer stood by the table for a while, then decided not to disturb him again. He looked up to his right, at the loans section. There was a middle aged lady at the counter. He approached the counter and said in a nervous tone, “Madam, I’ve come here to hand over the four gold coins, please —“ . He was stopped again by the lady, “For ornaments and jewels, you have to approach the cooperative bank”.
The farmer thought for a while, then decided to leave the office and had already retraced a few steps when someone called him. He turned back and saw a bespectacled clerk seated by a table, wave at him. The farmer wished him as he reached the table. “Did you get the loan?” the clerk enquired.
“No”
“You see getting a loan is very difficult, but I’ll get it for you. You just got to take a little care of me when you receive the amount”.
The farmer smiled and replied, “I haven’t come for any loan, I just wanted to handover four gold coins, I found in my field”.
The clerk starred at the farmer and his clenched pocket and said, “Let’s go out and have some tea”.
The farmer showed him the gold coins and the clerk observed it carefully. He then told the farmer, “Twelfth century coins or may be earlier, each is a priceless treasure. I’ll take care of these”. He gave two hundred rupees to the farmer and said, “Now don’t tell this to anyone and just forget that you had found gold coins in your field”.
Three days later the farmer once again came to the collector’s office to meet the clerk who had exchanged his gold coins for two hundred rupees.
“Idiot, why have you come here again”, the clerk welcomed the farmer.
The farmer looked on all sides, smiled and whispered; “Yesterday evening when I was ploughing the rear side of my field, I found a small pot with ninety six gold coins, all similar to the ones I gave you. It’s in my house right now”. The clerk blinked for a moment, came back to his senses and the two left outside for tea.
“Keep the pot carefully, I’ll come to your place tomorrow to collect it, we’ll talk everything later; now leave the place”, the clerk told him.
The farmer had already left when the clerk called him and said, “Don’t tell this to anyone; you know what the punishment is if the authorities come to know of this?”
“No”, the farmer replied.
“You will be punished under Section 123, that is five years in prison”.
“Five years”, the farmer repeated, shockingly.
The clerk didn’t seem to be satisfied with the farmer’s reaction; and so continued “That is only under Section 123A and you will also be punished under Section 123B. Do you know what it is — it is death sentence, both the sentences are concurrent”.
A chill feeling gushed through the farmer, who had started sweating by now. He wiped off his sweat and left to his house.
The next day the farmer waited for him as scheduled, but the man did not turn up. As night approached a fear gripped the farmer and he called his wife. “Five years in prison and death sentence, both concurrent. I don’t want to die”. Together they discussed and finally decided; and at midnight, the farmer walked to the field with the pot. He had the pot buried in the same spot, he found.
It was dawn; the farmer was washing his face when he saw the clerk; “Sorry boss, I couldn’t come yesterday. I had some very important work. Now where is the pot?”, the clerk asked. The farmer explained his anxiety and fear of having the pot, which had made him put it back in the same place.
“It’s okay, let’s go and get it”, the clerk replied as the two proceeded to the field.
There were in for a shock, for they saw to their disbelief that the particular spot had been dug into a pit.
The clerk was very angry, “It’s all gone now, how can you believe in what I said, I told that just to frighten you a bit. But you were a lot stupid”. He turned towards the farmer to tell something more, but stopped when he saw the farmer’s red eyes, already starring at him.
For days, the farmer tried to trace the person who had lifted his pot. It had been done in less than six hours and should therefore be the work of some neighboring farmer, who had seen him in the night, he thought. He saw all his co-farmers with suspicion.
It was market day. “I’ll meet all the farmers together today’ perhaps I’ll get a clue”, he thought. The farmers were already doing their business when he reached the market place. Some greeted him, some smiled at him and others enquired him about his products. He stared at each one of them silently for quite sometime, then turning his back to them said, “Don’t take me for granted, stealing valuables from my land can be punished under Section 123A, that is five years imprisonment, and together with that comes the death sentence under Section 123B”.
He then walked away a few steps, looked back and said, “Remember both the sentences are concurrent”.
