The Trophy

“Ok guys! That’s it for the day. Have a nice weekend! Make sure you are all safe and keep yourselves fit for our match on Tuesday”, hollered out the Captain to all his boys.

The Knowledge Systems Incorporated had recently announced a Cricket Tournament to raise the mood of its employees. Around twelve teams had registered for the tournament and Ram A’s Team was one among them. His Captain, Venky P had a lot of faith in his boys and believed that they could go the distance this time, provided everybody practiced a lot. He was the most enthusiastic as well. Venky P was the fast bowler of the team , not to be confused with his namesake, ex-Indian player Venkatesh Prasad who bowled some of the slowest leg cutters, Venky.P was express fast. In the practice trials his raw pace had knocked out one of the organizers cold. The tall frame of the Captain bowling reminded him of Curtly Ambrose striding in with his sweat bands. The rest of the team wasn’t a pushover either. Their senior most player, a research scientist, who was named after his parents’ favorite OS Ubuntu, was a very good fast bowler. In addition to these known faces, there were a lot of enthusiastic new joinees, who were keen to prove their worth. The ground that day was certainly filled with a lot of employees sweating it out, perfecting their back-lifts or trying to bowl express fast deliveries. Some of the enterprising folks were also working on their fielding skills.

Ram A , was a die-hard cricket fan himself. Gone were the days when he could play really well. As a young kid, he cherished the hopes of becoming a cricketer, but then so does every other kid in the country. This tournament presented an opportunity to regain some of that child like enthusiasm. I am growing older, so why not have some fun when there is the opportunity.

“Enjoying it aren’t you?” asked Siva excitedly to him. He was the organizer of this tournament. An idea conceived by him, which had received the whole hearted support of the entire corporation. Siva somehow had convinced the top brass to award prize money to the team and had also got a handsome trophy, worth a huge sum for this particular tournament. The amount of cash spent for the tournament meant that there was a lot of seriousness around, and that every other team wanted to place their hands on the coveted trophy, which in itself was worth a little fortune.

Ram A had a careful look at the trophy the previous day. It was a gleaming silver cup on a golden pedestal, bearing no inscriptions. His colleagues who caught him gazing at the cup longingly, chided him playfully for wanting it so much. Ram just looked at them and smiled.
Suddenly realizing that he had important things to do, Ram turned to Siva and asked him rather casually,

“Ohh Siva! do you have a Facebook account?” .

“Dei, Who doesn’t have one?”, A bemused Siva replied and handed Ram his id.

Finding a new Facebook friend was a norm in this Internet era. If you had a new acquaintance, you’d be more likely to add him on Facebook, sooner or later. That’s how the brave new world of social networking worked. It had started with the popular website Orkut in the early 2000s and slowly moved to Facebook. As you know Facebook makes the world a smaller place. Through status messages you could post what’s on your mind and all your friends would see that. In addition there were features also to let people know your location and also what you are doing currently. Status messages like Bought a wonderful new car, Finally proposed to my girl!, I ate Pasta at Pizza Hut now and it tasted yuck, My house is burning like hell now!... was common parlance, and everybody wanted to beat the other one in show casing their inanities. On top of it, you could also post your photo albums with nice captions. This was a new world indeed, albeit virtual.

On his way home, Siva was lost in his own thoughts, Oh! I have to update the trophy’s picture. I’ll get a picture of it from my terrace and upload it tonight. And how can I not show the glossy gift vouchers? How can they be left alone? League of Champions sounds a good album name.

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He called himself The Dark Knight. Yeah! After a tiring day as a Software Engineer, he always figured out that night time was the best to carry out his activities. He considered himself a freak! An aberration! He thought that his name was very ironic, since he was probably somebody who did more wrong than right. He slipped into the thief mode only during exigent circumstances. Nobody ever figured out where little things were lost, and the police also couldn’t easily find a motive. Random people losing house hold items that cost in thousands don’t really raise alarms every other day.

Siva has accepted your friend request.


He looked at the notification with a wry smile. Let me click on info.

Siva has added new photos to the album “League of Champions”.


There was more information that made him smile. He realized that it is going to be his day after all.

Siva is attending a “All night party at XXXX-Café”.


Casually he went through the album. Any other person would have wondered on why he spent so much time looking at each photo in detail. But he likened his activity to a kid who fills in a jigsaw puzzle. Aah there is the first piece. Sure enough, there was a picture of Siva holding the trophy in his hands. Ok before any suspicions are raised, let me ‘like’ it.

You and 75 other people like this


He decided that a like was not enough. A comment to show his keen interest in the trophy seemed harmless.

*Sigh*, I wish the trophy were in my home now :).

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The thief decided that he had enough of fooling around and focused on the remaining pieces of the jigsaw. Ohh look! A Hotel near his house. This is going to be a cake walk. Sure enough, Google gave him the location of the hotel. These days it’s so easy finding an address, he thought. Luckily for him the city he lives in was covered by Google Street View. All he had to do was to key in the address, and behold, a a panoramic view of the entire street was presented to him . With a few clicks, he was able to spot the house which would be the scene of his crime.

The night was young, and so was the thief. He entered the house without any trouble, and was inside in a jiffy. The absence of alarms or security systems ensured that he had no troubles whatsoever. The trophy gleamed even in the dark. I’ll allow him to keep the vouchers, he thought benevolently, looking at a set of vouchers beneath the trophy. He opened his bag, got some tools, and with the dexterity of a master, dismantled the trophy. Each of these parts is going to be worth something.

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The pawn broker at XXX-Street wore many hats. One of them was buying stolen goods from petty thieves and maid servants in the city. Many a time he would end up paying much little for the stolen good than it was ever worth. Today, as he was ruminating on the lack of customers, a young man entered the shop. The pawn broker recognized the familiar face, and beckoned to him. The young man took the rusty chair available and spread out his wares on the table. A smile ensued from the lips of the pawn broker. The bargain was then stuck and money was exchanged. The young man bade the pawn broker good bye and went on his way.

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The police registered a case in the morning. What was lost would not cause a ripple in the bustling scene of crime in the city. They were sure that the thief would never be found, but they still had to do the paperwork and the other formalities, not to mention the false assurances.

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Ram A was very excited on that day. His team had won the Cricket Tournament. Both the teams in the final had fought really well, braving the heavy rains that lashed the city on that day. The tournament went on despite the fact that the trophy was lost. After all the presentation ceremony was over, when everyone was trudging along, Ram found Siva, sitting alone in melancholy, ruminating over probably the lost trophy and losing in the finals. Ram thought it was appropriate to console him. “You played really well Siva, I am sure you can win the trophy next time”. Siva gave a weak smile and said, “But we can never get the company to sponsor us for a new tournament again, all because of my mistake”. Ram A consoled him and walked towards his departing team members. As he ran, a wet slip of paper fell out of his pocket without his knowledge, and the name “Ramchand Jain-Pawn Broker...” could be made out from that worthless piece of scrap.

PS: If you have read this not-so-good piece till here, thanks a lot :)