Bulls Eye

The search convoy hit the Rampur-Nainital highway. Timmy, the black Labrador lay back, curled on the floor of the white Maruti Gypsy. His counterpart, Jimmy, a bloodhound sniffer from UK, was attentive, ready to sniff out the bloody buffs. For Jimmy, this was new. He had sniffed drugs, dacoits, kidnappers and bombers. But buffaloes? Nah!

Regardless, this was a do-or-die mission. The top Boss’s chilling voice kept reverberating, “If you fail, you will be thrown in a pool infested with crocodiles.”

The Gypsy drove as fast as it could, spinning clouds of dust in the air. When the search party stopped in the outskirts of a sleepy village, the cops alighted along with their guns and walkie-talkies. Leading the search party, the sniffer dogs ran along the dirty dark tracks for what felt like forever.

Panting heavily, Timmy said, “Bro, this is a do-or-die mission.”
“What if we don’t find them?" growled Jimmy anxiously. “Who do you think stole the buffaloes?”
“Could be the opposition fellows," snarled Timmy. “I tell ya, they can stoop to any level.”
“Hmm. So, you think, they are in some park, hiding behind those monumental statues? Or maybe they are on their way to Gujarat.”
“Yep, possible. But how will we recognize the herd dude? They all look the same?
“No idea,” yapped Jimmy. “Never been on a buffalo trail.”

It was beyond midnight. The search convoy stopped for tea at a dingy dhaba. Before the tea arrived, the sleepy looking guy behind the counter fell dramatically on the feet of the policemen. “I hear you guys can find anyone. Please find Pappu who left for school but never returned,” begged the guy.
“Is Pappu a VIP? ”
“No,” the guy looked at the cops vacantly. "Pappu is my five year old son."

There was a loud burst of laughter. Disappointed, the guy went back behind the counter scratching his head. While the cops sipped tea, the sniffer dogs watched small black and white television placed on a rickety stool. The search operation was national news.
A news anchor with gelled hair and spectacles was shouting, “You ask me where was my channel, I ask you where was your conscience?”
“This is scary stuff,” growled Timmy softly. “Each time I see this anchor, I pee next to the nearest pole available.”

Suddenly Jimmy began barking excitedly, almost like the anchor in the television set. Instinctively, the cops ran towards the nearby fields.
There they were. All seven of them, frothing at the mouth, chewing cud and looking at the onlookers with their limpid innocent eyes.

Phew! It was like everyone received a fresh lease of life. The cops  fired celebratory gun shots in the air.
A relieved Timmy asked, “How did you do it? Did you sniff the reek of their dung? "
"Easy-peasy,"Jimmy growled, “The herd is wearing imported cologne. I guess, their owner bought it while on a foreign junket.” 

"It was not a foreign junket. Study tour tha stupid," Timmy barked happily.

Image Courtesy: www.indiatoday.in

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