Here a Scam there a Scam, everywhere a Scam Scam!

Newspapers nowadays are full of news articles about someone or the other getting scammed (Courier scam, Nigerian scam, Customs scam, etc). I would like however, to step back a few years.

Those who know me will put me in the handsome, suave and ‘man of the world’ category. And for the most part I may add, even if a bit immodestly, they are correct. However, every coin has two sides and into each life, as is said, some rain must fall. I shamefacedly have to admit that I have the ‘other’ side too; that of being easy meat for scamsters. Scamsters, howsoever down in the dumps they may be, perk up like a lion sighting a tasty gazelle, on seeing the gullible me. They see me as a ray of sunshine in their lives, a ‘murga’ who can always be depended upon, should their financial situation necessitate access to some quick and easy money.

Cut to 1992. Self and The Wife were at the magnificent VT station (now rechristened to a mouthful ‘Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus) at, then Bombay, in preparation for a train trip to Hyderabad. I was accosted by a respectability-personifying-well dressed man who apparently had lost his wallet AND his train ticket; but had to urgently proceed home to visit his mother on her deathbed. The worldly wise would have seen the Red Flags, but I sighted none. I was already 90% convinced that if there was anyone more in need of help, I hadn’t met him.

To cut a long story short, he asked me for Rs 165/- to enable him to buy a ticket. He continued telling me (for some reason) that he is a  Jain of a God fearing family and that he would ensure I get my money back soonest. He added in support, that he had already called a friend of his in Pune who would meet us with the required dough at the Station. But the reason why my 90% conviction touched 200% was that he also asked me to keep his watch and spectacles as collateral till then. Now here I thought, was a sincere gem of a person dealt a cruel twist of fate; most deserving of some milk of human kindness. Doubts, as PG Wodehouse would say, were conspicuous by their a in my mind. Politely declining the collateral, my hand dove into my various pockets and I mustered the requisite Rs 165/- which I handed over to him; to expressions of gratitude from his side as he left to buy a ticket. If I remember correctly, he equated me with Lord Ram. This equivalence pleased me no end and almost made me ask him if he needed more, but the disbelieving look in The Wife’s eye put a dampener on my generosity; as did the fact that I had only about Rs 200/- with me. Now ladies and gentlemen, Rs 165/- in 1992 is roughly Rs 1400/- today, which shows that I parted with quite some money.

The train started in due course and reached Pune station about four hours later. I scanned the people at the station, more specifically for the respectability-personifying-well dressed man, sanguine in the expectation of my Rs 165/- being back in my pocket shortly. Er, well, I sighted all the alluring sights that typical Indian stations offer, but the well dressed  man remained, again in the words of pal Wodehouse, conspicuous by his a. The only thing that was definitely not conspicuous by its a was the ‘look’ on The Wife’s face and the earful that I got on my gullibility/stupidity. That was the day I lost all faith in humanity.

But then you know, time as is said, is a great healer. By the time many years later, when The Wife expressed a desire to see the fabulous Lingaraj temple in Bhubaneshwar, I was again convinced that humanity was in top shape. Brimming with religious fervour, both of us drove down to the temple in our car. Scarcely had I stopped the car when we were greeted by a saintly looking individual in the garb of a priest who asked us solicitously if we needed a ‘guide’ for just Rs 20/-. Ordinarily we scoff at guides but then we thought to ourselves, what the heck, it is just Rs 20/-. Plus,  the man positively reeked of spirituality. We accepted. For those who have been to the Lingaraj temple, will know that it has a large compound with an assortment of mini temples surrounding the main one. He, for a small additional fee of Rs 200/- each, gave us a short tour to seven of these mini temples. Rs 1420/- gone. Then onto the main temple. He asked us if we wanted a special ‘discounted’ puja at a ‘nominal’ cost for our well being. Discounts being my weak spot, I was still contemplating the pros and cons, when before one could say the proverbial ‘Jack Robinson’, we were served with a fait accompli in the form of two pujaris who waved some mango leaves, lit some incense and asked us to pour some milk over a stone. Two minutes later, out stretched their hands seeking the ‘discounted’ fee of Rs 2700/-. A mighty costly two minutes you’ll agree, but not wanting to seem stingy in the presence of Lords Vishnu and Shiva (yes the temple is dedicated to both), we parted with said amount, not admittedly, without many silent misgivings.

Our guide thereafter asked us if we wanted the ‘special’ bhog made at the temple. Now going by how the Rs 20/- had already swollen to Rs 4120/- we should have thought this through, however, we nodded as if hypnotised. A packet materialised literally out of nowhere and we were divested of an additional Rs 900/-. So in sum total, the Rs 20/- cost us Rs 5020/-. The stories our guide must have told his wife on meeting us murgas that day! I’m sure he still recalls us with fondness.

Still, I take solace from the fact that I at least, am not a woman. Or not at least a woman seeking a match via Shaadi.com. Heard of this Odiya man named Bhibu Prakash Swain who had swindled not one, not two, but 27 women into marrying him? These include, lest you think he was targeting only susceptible ‘not-worldly-wise’ women, a Chartered Accountant from Chhattisgarh, two advocates of the Supreme Court, an Assistant Commandant from ITBP and an officer in the Kerala Administrative Services. Conglomerates can learn a thing or two about pan India operations from him. While they grumble about complexities wrt language, attitude and red tape, our man Bhibu says, ‘pfft’ to such piddly gripes. All he had to do was take on the guise of the Chief Controller of the NEET exams to convince the ladies that he was ‘The One’. The Police estimate that while difficult to arrive at an exact figure, he swindled each lady to the tune of Rs 2-10 lakhs. On being caught in his car, the police expecting a Brad Pitt or Shah Rukh Khan replica to step out, were a bit non plussed to see this 60 plus year old pot-bellied, 5 feet 2 inches man with a mini jungle of ear hair, smiling sheepishly. Goes to show doesn’t it, that while beauty is merely a skin-deep favourable arrangement of golgi bodies on one’s face, it is nothing compared to the allure of a Government job!

Nowadays of course we have Nuh and Jamtara, but having learnt my lessons well, I launch into a 10 minute lecture on the futility of life when someone calls me about a Fedex package for me stuck at Customs. That teaches them!