Don’t pick that pocket!

  • 27 Oct - 02 Nov, 2018
  • Ayesha Adil
  • Fiction


I saw him coming straight towards me and instead of moving out of his track I let myself bump into him.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I gracefully apologised while I quickly slipped the wallet to Maha who was standing right behind me.

The unsuspecting victim walked off with a nod.

The mall was the best place to conduct our business on this busy afternoon.

Customers generally let down their guard inside the mall. There was less risk of being robbed or mugged than out in the street. The guards are roaming around and everyone is kept an eye on by hidden cameras so one feels relaxed and comfortable.

However, that was exactly what was convenient for a pick pocket. People being careless of their belongings and their shopping bags and even their kids.

And besides, this was in my blood. I had been brought up doing this all my life. I mean, I got an education and all but the family business was the family business, who was I to argue?

And my sister and I had been trained from a very young age, we were professionals.

Our dad would set up small bells all around the house and we were asked to pick things without ringing the bells. That was a part of our rigorous training. Then clothing would be hung on mannequins with tiny bells on the pockets and bags and we were trained for hours to take out things without disturbing them.

Each time a bell would ring, mom or dad would shout out for us to be careful and the exercise would continue for hours till we got it right.

It all sounded fun when we were young but as we got older it became a tedious routine but our parents wanted us to train ourselves for at least an hour every day.

We started practicing our skills at a young age, hunting down unsuspecting victims and ridding them of their belongings.

It all began in school for the first few times. Lunch money or calculators or anything else that was valuable and had a resale value. But it wasn’t challenging at all. Students were mostly gullible, extremely careless of their things so basically they were sitting ducks. Both, my sister and I, craved the real thing. Our parents told us not to take anything out from a teacher’s bag or their stuff. It was too risky. It would create a scene and someone might even report us on mere suspicion. We couldn’t risk our education in that manner.

Dad worked at a bank. He held a lowly job as a security guard which awarded him some liberty to pinch money here and there. Sometimes, when he’d be helping old customers in and out he would use his butter fingers and take away a wallet or a phone. But he had to be careful. He was physically examined every day at closing time and he had to put away his stash some place safe before checking.

Every day around noon, a small beggar boy would come towards the bank. Dad had an arrangement with him. For a small fee, he took his stash safely from him and kept it till the closing hours. The he would meet dad at the bus stop and hand it to him. In return, dad would give him some money depending on how lucky he had been that day.

It was a fool proof scheme.

How trusting were the old gentlemen, always willing to be held by my dad while they stepped in and out of the car. Serves them right for refusing their driver’s help and in some cases even their kids. People these days.

And here there were vultures only taking advantage of them in the guise of offering help.

I laughed inwardly just thinking about it.

The hardest part was not knowing when to stop. When we were young and visited our friends’ homes, mom strictly told us not to pinch anything. But it was too tempting. Maha, my sister often came home with girly stuff. She brought home lipsticks and jewellery and at times even outfits pinched right from the friend’s wardrobe.

I don’t even know how she managed it. But she never got caught. I knew she was a lot better than me. I mean pick pocketing at the mall was easy stuff but taking something out from a person’s household definitely need some true talent. I knew she had been practicing really hard and I admired her skill.

On this particularly busy day at the mall, Maha and I blended in really well. She wore her jeans and a button down shirt, the latest fad in young girls. She looked really nice and we decided that we would hit on the young men today who followed her around. She was the bait. We frequently created scenarios to suit us and since schools were off for the winter break the mall was buzzing with young people.

Maha went ahead of me into one of the shops. She stood at the racks showing an avid interest in the clothing. Two unsuspecting middle aged men were eyeing her out from a safe distance. They were supposed to keep a watch on the shopping bags that they were carrying. I passed by them to see if there was any sign of distraction. None.


That’s when I stood next to them with my own shopping bag and as I picked up mine to leave I picked up two of theirs and walked out with Maha following me again at a safe distance.

We met up on the next floor and she told me that she had taken out the lady’s wallet too, who was standing beside her looking at the clothes.

We handed over all the things to dad who took them to the car while we went into the maze again.

This would go on till about an hour or so. We had to make sure that we would hit the shops that were on different floors and also far apart so that if anyone raised an alarm other unsuspecting customers would not be alerted.

Our fool proof plan worked most times.

Except on that fateful day when we hit the mother lode. Or so we thought at the time.

Being young, Maha and I also consider our victims as mini challenges. It was fun trying out smart people and we picked out our challenges quite carefully. If we failed to pinch something from them we felt exceedingly disappointed. So we would perfect our hits and make sure we didn’t fail.

The minute we saw that man we knew we had to pick his pocket. He was too suave and too cool to be left alone.

That army cut and the immaculate dress sense. Both of us couldn’t resist. He had two younger men with him that strangely resembled body guards but Maha noted that they were too young and too frail. She said they might be his kids. I couldn’t sense any filial connection but I played along because I too was up for a challenge. It had been so long that we hadn’t hunted anyone down. The easy peesy pinches; bag in the trolley, careless teenager, sleepy gentleman; there

was no fun in that anymore. So we began to stalk him. 

That’s when I stood next to them with my own shopping bag and as I picked up mine to leave I picked up two of theirs and walked out with Maha following me again at a safe distance.

We met up on the next floor and she told me that she had taken out the lady’s wallet too, who was standing beside her looking at the clothes.

We handed over all the things to dad who took them to the car while we went into the maze again.

This would go on till about an hour or so. We had to make sure that we would hit the shops that were on different floors and also far apart so that if anyone raised an alarm other unsuspecting customers would not be alerted.

Our fool proof plan worked most times.

Except on that fateful day when we hit the mother lode. Or so we thought at the time.

Being young, Maha and I also consider our victims as mini challenges. It was fun trying out smart people and we picked out our challenges quite carefully. If we failed to pinch something from them we felt exceedingly disappointed. So we would perfect our hits and make sure we didn’t fail.

The minute we saw that man we knew we had to pick his pocket. He was too suave and too cool to be left alone.

That army cut and the immaculate dress sense. Both of us couldn’t resist. He had two younger men with him that strangely resembled body guards but Maha noted that they were too young and too frail. She said they might be his kids. I couldn’t sense any filial connection but I played along because I too was up for a challenge. It had been so long that we hadn’t hunted anyone down. The easy peesy pinches; bag in the trolley, careless teenager, sleepy gentleman; there

was no fun in that anymore. So we began to stalk him. 

But those two guys wouldn’t give us an inch to approach him and we almost gave up. And then we saw him at the crowded food court, waiting in line to place an order.

The two young men were nowhere to be seen and Maha and I made our attack.

She stood in line behind him.

Since we had waited so long we weren’t going to leave with just a wallet or a cellphone. We wanted the pouch that was hanging on his wrist.

But how?

The line kept on moving gently towards the food counter.

When he reached the counter and began to give his order he placed his pouch at the top. This was our window, only a slim chance. Maha acted fast and swooned brushing her hand on his back just before she fell to the ground in a pretended fainting spell.

I quickly slithered forward and grabbed his pouch before anyone could notice. Besides, all eyes were on Maha who seemed like panting in short strained breaths. While the people around helped her on her feet I was long gone. She would join us in the car soon.

When I reached the car with dad at the wheel, I unzipped the pouch to reveal its contents, a gun and an ID card. This man was a police inspector, undercover and we were stuck with his prized possessions. Dad and I exchanged a look.

That’s when we saw the two young men escorting Maha outside the mall. Oh no, I thought. It was too late. We shouldn’t have waited for her. She could get hold of a rickshaw and be off but now she was caught and she was bringing them to the car while dad and I sat in disbelief…. •

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