By Vimal Kapoor
(This story is based on a true incident; however, the names have been changed. This happened before CCTV cameras became popular.)
The Lower Paltan Bazaar in Dehradun is commonly referred to as “Sarraffa Bazaar”, as most of the shops lining the streets are run by jewellers. A few others are occupied by clothing merchants and dry food vendors. Some of these jewellery stores date back to pre-Independence days and are now managed by the second or, in some cases, third generation of the original owners.
One such shop is ‘Durga Jewellers’, founded by Lala Padam Lal before Independence and now run by his sons, Prateek and Manoj. It is one of the town’s most renowned jewellery stores, with a loyal customer base that has been passing down the tradition of purchasing from the store for generations. In the jewellery trade, trust is paramount, and Durga Jewellers has earned its customers’ confidence over the years, maintaining its reputation and goodwill.
On a warm, humid June morning, two young girls, likely in their late teens, wearing uniforms from a well-known college, walked in and took a seat near the entrance. Dressed in pristine white salwar kameezes with dark maroon chunnis, they looked fresh and charming. Prateek, busy with stock updates, signaled to his best salesman, Sunil, to attend to them. The girls expressed interest in diamond rings.
Seeing a potential sale early in the morning, Sunil quickly fetched seven boxes containing ladies’ diamond rings. He checked each box to ensure all ten slots were filled and noted 70 rings in his register. With everything in order, he opened all the boxes in front of the wide-eyed, innocent-looking girls. Their eyes lit up as they started trying on the rings, admiring how they looked on their perfectly manicured fingers.
They asked about the prices and the clarity of various rings, and Sunil, a seasoned salesman, answered their queries with ease. After some time, the girls mentioned that they liked a few designs but found the rings too expensive. They said they would return with their parents later in the evening. As they were about to leave, Sunil, following his usual routine, checked all the boxes once more and was shocked to discover that one slot was empty.
“Please wait, ma’am, one of my rings is missing,” he said politely, but with firmness in his voice.
He searched the floor but found nothing. Prateek and Manoj also joined the search effort. The girls, however, remained calm and unruffled. “Please hurry up, we’re running late for college,” one of them said.
Prateek called for the accountant, and after checking the tags, it was revealed that a ring studded with 1.5-carat ‘F’ color solitaire worth Rs 5 lakhs was missing. The tension in the air was now palpable. Prateek and Manoj addressed the girls sternly: “Neither of you will leave until the ring is found.”
“You can’t keep us here like this!” the taller girl snapped, her face reddening with anger.
“We’re not staying, and if you suspect us, search us. But if not, let us go, or we’ll call the police,” the other girl said sarcastically.
“Leave that to us,” Prateek replied coldly.
“The earth won’t swallow the ring. We’re giving you one last chance to return it, or we’ll call the police,” said Manoj.
“Go ahead and call the police,” the taller girl shot back, her eyes blazing with fury.
The shop owners and staff held a brief meeting before combing the area once more, but the missing ring was nowhere to be found. Prateek, now visibly worried, called the nearby police station and explained the situation to the officer on duty. Within minutes, a police jeep arrived, with an inspector and two lady constables.
One of the senior lady constables, her expression stern, fixed her gaze on the girls and said sharply, “Hand over the ring, or we will conduct a strip search, and if the ring is found, the consequences will be severe.”
“We’re prepared to undergo a strip search, but if you don’t find the ring, we’ll take you to court for defamation,” one of the girls snapped, pointing a finger at the two owners.
Prateek gestured to the female officer, and both girls were escorted into a nearby office. One officer shut the door behind them while the male inspector remained outside. Tension and anticipation thickened the air as Prateek and Manoj nervously paced inside the shop.
Exactly 11 minutes later, the female officer emerged, her expression one of frustration. She was followed by the other constable and the disheveled girls.
“We’ve searched them thoroughly—not once, but twice—and the ring isn’t there,” she reported.
Prateek and Manoj’s faces paled with panic as the girls began shouting insults.
“Just wait and see,” one of them yelled, her face contorted with fury. “We’ll sue you for defamation and drag you to court!”
A small crowd had gathered outside, curiosity writ large on their faces. The inspector took down the girls’ names, addresses, and phone numbers before sending them off. Once they left, the inspector warned the brothers to be more careful when making accusations in the future.
It had been a long day for both brothers. They spent the rest of it in a state of distress, repeatedly searching the entire shop and office. It wasn’t just a financial blow—it struck at their confidence and morale. The staff, too, seemed visibly shaken.
At 7:30 p.m., they closed the shop and headed home, weighed down by the events.
That night, both brothers struggled to sleep, replaying the incident in their minds over and over, unable to figure out where the elusive ring had gone.
The next morning, they opened the shop at the usual time and once again searched the floor thoroughly, but there was still no sign of the ring. They had mentally resigned themselves to the idea that it was gone for good.
Business continued as usual when a family came in to buy a gold chain. In the afternoon, a girl entered and asked to see silver toe rings. She picked one and paid for it, it was then that Prateek noticed something strange—she was wearing exactly the same outfit the two girls from the previous day had worn. He kept a close eye on her and noticed her reaching under the chair, searching for something.
Suddenly, it all clicked for Prateek.
Without hesitation, he rushed over to the girl, and she quickly stood up. He signaled for one of his staff members to hold her and then turned the chair she had been sitting on upside down. There, stuck under the seat with chewing gum, was the missing ring—with a sparkling 1.5-carat diamond.
The entire room watched in awe as the diamond gleamed brightly.
Later, the three girls admitted their scheme. The plan had been clever: two of them had secretly stuck the valuable ring under the chair with chewing gum, and the third girl, their accomplice, had been instructed to sit on a chair near the entrance to retrieve the ring. If only she hadn’t been wearing the same college dress, they might have gotten away with it.
All three were sentenced and sent to juvenile prison.
(Vimal Kapoor, a Dehradun resident, is passionate about literature, creature writing, cricket and exploration through travel)
