Motorbike Thievery

There is an ostentatious house to the east of my house in Gongabu that is always full of one kind of racket or the other. Rumor is, it is a police-protected gambling den. That wouldn't be very surprising. Thisarea is full of the nouveau-riche, real-estate and overseas-employment agencies. Along Chakrapath, there are plenty of  dance bars and brothels. What is so surprising if the ugly hodge-podge of architectural styles across the street is an all-night gambling den?

A few days ago, somebody opened the gate of that house, coasted a motorbike out of the gate, closed the gate, disappeared. Imagine that!

It had to be someone who had access to the place, who knew what went on in there. The person must have pushed the motorbike some distance before riding it away. Broad daylight.

Yesterday, while I was watching the football game between the USA and Algeria on one channel and England and Slovania on the other channel [good for you, USA, that you got through, but a pox on you for creating and maintaining that unholy suspense over Slovania's fate...], a woman shrieked across the street.

"This man is robbing us!" she shouted from a window. "A thief! A thief! We're being robbed!"

There were people on the street outside, since it was a cool evening. They caught the thief. Nobody was  bothered by the fact that the house was a gambling den, where dozens of people of unsavory character gathered each day, each night, where it would not be reasonable to expect people to remember every face.

The thief had come with a helmet in his bag. He had lurked inside the house, put on the helmet, opened the gate. At that point, he was discovered.

He was beaten to a pulp. Police was called, but only three policemen showed up to control a crowd of  dozens. When a mob catches a lone man, everybody in the mob feels much stronger than he would normally  care to show. Some men were feeling particularly powerful, particularly in the right. They slapped the thief left  and right, kicked him, punched him, pulled his hair. One man, especially once others started to restrain him,  became more and more bold in his assaults. If nobody had bothered to assuage his anger, perhaps he wouldn't have had any anger or force to spare.

The gamblers were saying to the police: "Leave him with us. We're responsible if we kill him, but we'll make sure we get our lost motorbike from him. Don't worry, we won't kill him."

If you'd heard that, you would've been shocked at their hubris. It seemed they thought the police were merely ornamental, while they were the dispensers of justice.

What should really happen is that the gamblers should be put in jail--not for gambling, for I have nothing against it--but for openly defying the law, for bribing the police for protection, and for saying that they would "be responsible if the thief dies" while they beat him up for interrogation.