SMART JUDGEMENT

Chatun was a young boy of thirteen years who resided with his grandmother in the village. They were very poor. Chatun had lost his parents long back thus he was alone too. Daily, his grandmother made some oil cakes and the young boy took them to the market to sell. 

  One afternoon, he was returning home after selling the oil cakes for a good profit when he saw an old lady trying to lift a bundle of wood onto her head. Her skin was full of wrinkles, and she clearly had no energy to lift it. 

  “Wait, Grandma! Let me help you,” he called and rushed to her, putting his basket of sold-out oil cakes down.

  With minimum effort, he put the bundled wood onto her head. “God bless you, son,” said the old lady, and a rush of pleasure filled Chatun. I am glad I could help her. She’s so old after all, he thought, walking back to his basket. 

  While he proceeded to pick it up, Chatun was taken aback as his eyes fell upon the inside of the basket. “Hey!” he yelled. “My money! It’s gone!”

  Soon several villagers gathered around the boy. “Where did you keep the money?” a bald-headed old man asked. 

  “In this basket,” replied Chatun, his voice still filled with shock. 

  “Are you sure it’s gone? Let me have a look.” The man put his hand into the basket but suddenly pulled it back again. “Ugh! Your basket is too oily.” 

  “I sell oil cakes,” Chatun answered. 

  “What’s going on here?” 

  Everybody round the young boy turned around. “It’s Eeshwar Sen,” said one of the villagers. 

  Eeshwar Sen was a judge. When he learned completely about the theft, he asked, “Did you see anyone near the basket?” he asked. 

  “No, sir,” responded Chatun. 

  “Hmm. You haven’t seen anyone around, yet the money is missing.” The judge looked about the place. “I presume that the stone there must have taken it. Bring it to the court.”   

Everyone was startled, including Chatun. “Has the judge gone mad?! How can he put a stone on trial?” whispered one man to the other. 

  “Let us see how he does that,” a guy said and everybody agreed. They were, indeed, curious on how a stone could be arraigned. Therefore, everyone wanted to enter the court to watch the proceedings. 

However, the judge stopped them at the gate. “Wait,” he said. “Anyone who wants to enter the court must drop a coin into this bucket.” 

  Nearby was a bucket full of water. Several people started to drop a coin each into it. Gradually, everyone entered the court. Then, a stranger came forward and dropped a coin into the bucket. 

  “He’s the thief!” screamed Eeshwar Sen. 

  “Wha…” came the voice from the man as he started to back away. Nevertheless, the other villagers caught him just in time. 

  “Let me go!” cried the man, looking bitterly towards the judge. 

  “Return the money to the boy,” said Eeshwar Sen, the judge, sternly. 

  “Here,” said the man in a regretful voice and handed the money over to Chatun. 

  “How did you know he was the culprit, your honour?” someone from the gang of villagers asked. 

  “Money kept in the basket is sure to be oily,” answered Eeshwar Sen. “When he dropped the coin into the bucket of water, a ring of oil spread out from it. So, of course, I knew he was the thief.” 

  The villagers were astonished at the remarks. Chatun thanked the judge and ran home, springing to tell his grandmother about his little adventure.

Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of my imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. || Contents of this story should not be reproduced in any manner without permission.