The woman in yellow

It was a chilly,wintry December evening.We were at the station in Delhi,waiting to board the Rajdhani express.
My bro-in-law was to get engaged the next day in Mumbai.
The train arrived.People scrambled from all directions to get into the train.They know its not a Mumbai local,which starts in only a few seconds.So why this tearing hurry to get in? I wondered.

We found our way in.Discovering we had the side seats,(which we both hated),we soon parked our baggage under it.I held on to our two year old restless son,as hubby kept himself busy arranging our bags.
The people kept pouring into the A.C compartment.Peak holiday season,I supposed.A well dressed woman soon appeared.She was tall,dark with good features.Her lemon yellow saree with zari border was accentuated with gold around her neck.

A man,shorter in stature,was ahead of her.She bent low, and asked me our seat numbers. Satisfied,she moved on.
It was departure time.The train began moving slowly.
Looking outside,I saw this woman walking alongside the train on the platform.She seemed to be in a tearing hurry when she inquired of me,but now she's moving away,I wondered.
The train picked up speed quickly.The crowd had dwindled.We both relaxed in our seats.Hubby looked cool in his rich,brown overcoat.

We looked around.There was this Marwari family traveling with us.They were busy talking.
A good thirty minutes passed.My man suddenly got up from his seat and looked up at the berth above.
'The briefcase is missing',he declared in his quiet, unassuming tone.
'What?'
I couldn't believe.
'You mean to say,you kept your briefcase on top, just like that?' I queried.
'Yes',he replied with a sheepish look on his face.

The Marwari lady spoke up.She had seen a man clutching the briefcase handle as he stood in line to move on.He fit the exact description.

He was the woman's man.
The woman in yellow.
Her accomplice.
Their modus operandi-the attractive woman distracts a gullible victim,while the man walks away with the belongings.

The Marwari lady wasn't to be blamed.How could she possibly know the baggage was ours?
The T.C shrugged off our complaints.'Nothing can be done',he admitted.
I looked at my man.
'It's all because of your overcoat',I cried,exasperated.
'Of course not',he replied indignantly.How could his coat attract attention?

On estimation,we discovered we lost no cash,but the clothes he was to wear at the function the next day,a pair of leather slippers and a yashica camera.The camera's loss was rued,it was a good one.
We helplessly resigned ourselves to our fate.So cleverly conned by experts in the field.
I wonder where they are now.Are they still in operation?
Friends,do watch out if they ever come your way.


(p.s-pic of woman-for representation purpose only)