The Thankful Victims

 By Veerendra umar Kochar

Central Maya was a picture-perfect gated community—manicured lawns, gleaming high-rises, and round-the-clock security.

Then came the night the thief arrived.

He didn’t just hit one home; he systematically pillaged the complex. From Flat 101, he unbolted the water pump. From Flat 202, he claimed the private garden. From Flat 303, he took the parking spot. From Flat 404, he cleaned out the maintenance fund.

Morning broke, and panic set in. The residents gathered in the courtyard, furious and bewildered.

"We've been robbed!"

"Call the police!"

"Demand accountability!"

Before the crowd could boil over, the society’s distinguished committee members stepped forward—smiles fixed, suits pressed.

"Calm down, everyone," the President soothingly gestured. "Why cause a panic over minor inconveniences? You are resilient. You can bear this. Let's not ruin the society's reputation."

The residents blinked in disbelief. "Minor inconveniences? Our property is gone!"

What the residents didn't know was that the committee members shared tea with the thief every evening, quietly splitting the plunder.

To keep the peace, the committee met the thief in secret. "The crowd is getting restless," they warned. "Give them a sliver of hope."

The thief, sharp and opportunistic, agreed. The next morning, he marched into the courtyard like a benevolent monarch. The committee triumphantly announced, "Look at his generosity! Our thief has graciously agreed to *discuss* returning a portion of what was taken."

Then came the masterclass in absurdity.

The very people who had been robbed—whose pumps, gardens, and savings were stolen—stepped forward. They bowed, folded their hands, and chimed in gratitude:

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you for sitting down with us."

"Thank you for promising that one day, you might return what was ours to begin with."

The thief smiled. The committee beamed. The trick was complete. They hadn't just stolen property; they had rewired the victims' minds to feel indebted for the bare minimum.

And so, the theft continues at Central Maya to this day—not because the thief is invincible, but because the victims have been trained to say *Thank You*.

When corrupt leaders collude with oppressors, citizens are conditioned to celebrate crumbs of their own stolen rights instead of demanding true justice!