For children: A break-in at Mumbai’s Asiatic Society Library may help uncover a rare blue sapphire

Indraneel Bapat perched uncomfortably on one of the rickety chairs in the grand Durbar Hall of the Asiatic Society. At 13 years, Indraneel, or Neel as he preferred to be called, was tall for his age, and had to fold his long legs to stop kicking the person in front of him. He was usually a happy-go-lucky kid, with a generous smile that always reached his eyes. But he wasn’t smiling now! He was blowing air out of the corner of his mouth, trying to flick away the lock of floppy, wavy hair that had fallen across his forehead. The collared T-shirt his mother had forced him to wear kept brushing against his neck, and he had to constantly fight the urge to pull at it. Focus, he said to himself, looking around. Giant spidery-looking chandeliers hung low from the oval ceiling, casting deep shadows everywhere. Large, ancient portraits of bygone scholars and reformists dominated the walls.

Neel’s imagination was getting the better of him. Something wasn’t right. He felt like he was being watched. Dark knights and shadowy creatures seemed to lie in wait for him and the hundred other guests seated in the hall. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of impending doom. Had he mentioned this to his mother, she would have probably blamed it on the higher barometric pressure caused due to winter, or some such absurd scientific fact which had nothing to do with his spiralling thoughts.

Why on earth had he agreed to come with his mom this evening? He could have been at home, playing box cricket with his friends. Or basketball, if he had had his way.

Neel shook his head, blinked twice and tried to tune in to the session again. May as well listen to what they are saying, he thought. But the speaker was droning on monotonously, making it impossible to pay attention.

He got up and tried to gingerly step over the feet and walking sticks of the other guests. (It was exactly the kind of event that would attract all the octogenarians!) He looked steadfastly at the floor as he made a slow escape; he didn’t dare to make eye contact with his mom, who was sitting at the delegates’ table at the front of the room. He could feel her eyes tracking his movements.

Once out in the corridor, Neel finally stretched his legs and smiled. Despite his abject boredom during the session, he had to admit that he loved the Asiatic Society. The age-old building with its grand white facade, tall columns, musty chambers, and thousands and thousands of ancient books had been like a second home to Neel since he could remember. He had always felt closer to the rich heritage of Mumbai whenever he was inside. And he was proud to be a part of it. He just wasn’t that interested in listening to the fuss being made about the Parsi philanthropist who had donated his entire collection of rare books to the Society.

He trailed his hand along the glass facades of the old World War II-style olive green metal book racks and was sauntering towards the main library when the lights went off. He heard a collective gasp from the audience he’d left behind.

All of a sudden, Neel was enveloped in complete darkness. He had been to the library enough times not to be scared of the dark. But this felt eerie.

He was deciding whether to wait till the lights came back on or to try and grope his way back to the Hall, when he heard a loud crash to his left. It seemed to come from far away, from the other end of the main reading hall. The crash was followed once again by silence.

Neel made up his mind. He tiptoed towards the other end of the hall. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could see lights from the road outside, gleaming off the gigantic marble statues in front of him.

He reached the spiral staircase that led to the floor below. Dim moonlight filtered in through the window, and he saw two men trying to pick up and drag what looked like a fallen crate through the basement door.

Burglars? In the library?

It would have been a perfect adventure film-worthy moment for Neel – where the brave teenager foiled the nefarious plans of the ruthless villains – had his sneakers been “sneaky” enough. Unfortunately, with a loud squeaking sound, they gave his position away. And before he could duck behind a cabinet, one of the men turned around and flashed a torchlight in his face. He quickly turned to run only to bump into a tall, dark figure who grabbed him. As Neel struggled to free himself, he heard a strange mechanical whirring. Then, as if by some miracle, someone kicked his attacker in the shin. Another person hit his attacker on the shoulder with a metal bottle.

With a loud “aargh”, the assailant let go of Neel. As Neel scrambled to get away from the man, he saw that the man was just as eager to get away from him. The attacker ran down the stairs, clutching his shoulder, before escaping through the basement door with the others. The crate lay there, forgotten.

Relieved, Neel turned to thank his saviours. In the dark, he couldn’t see their features clearly, but it looked like a girl about his age and a boy in a wheelchair.

The girl retrieved a fallen water bottle and smiled so widely at him that her teeth seemed to light up the dark.

“Look,” she whispered, pointing to a dark object that had fallen on the white marble staircase.

Neel climbed down to fetch it. It was a book, an old book from the feel of it. He climbed further down to examine the upturned crate.

Suddenly, the lights came back on, and the stairwell was flooded with bright fluorescent light.

Neel was blinded for a moment. When his eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, he looked up and saw that at least two dozen adults, including his mother, were staring down at him, accusingly!

He was bewildered by his mother’s expression. She looked mad, like that time she had caught him sneaking off for a basketball match the night before a big exam. But he hadn’t done anything wrong this time. Why on earth was she glaring at him?

That’s when he noticed the burly looking Police Inspector pointing his baton at him. Wait a second… Dude! Did they think he was the burglar? He hadn’t done a thing! Other than maybe hiding a small, old, possibly rare book in his back pocket.

Hopefully, Neel prayed, the police wouldn’t find it.

Excerpted with permission from The Secret of the Star Sapphire: A Daring Treasure Hunting Adventure, Monika Bhatkhande, Talking Cub.