Of Buckets, Scams, and CCTVs

I was busy with the final cleaning of my newly built studio when I heard a knock on the glass door. I stepped out to find the society secretary standing there.

“Your AC drips water on the pavement in the compound. This is our way to walk, and this water will add so much mess. Please ensure that this water doesn’t drip on the pavement.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll figure something out!” I reassured him with a smile. He smiled back and walked away. I started wondering what I could do to solve it. There was no way to connect it to any drain. I noticed others had rerouted it to the drain inside, but my guys didn’t have that much foresight.

“Plant? What if I keep a big plant there?” I wondered. Luckily, there’s a big nursery next to the building. But there was a problem with that idea. What happens when I’m not in town? If the studio doesn’t open for days, who would water the plant? What if someone drops the pot and makes a mess?

Unsure of any long-lasting solution, I ordered a bucket from Blinkit. I was surprised to find out how expensive buckets can be! I put the bucket under the water outlet and switched on the AC.

Days went by, and this setup seemed to work well. Whenever I had to work in the studio, I would put the bucket under the outlet, and when I was done, I’d empty the bucket and put it aside. Soon, I had to go to Bangkok for a shoot.

Two months later, after coming back from Bangkok, I resumed the routine. One morning I unlocked the main door and extended my hand to grab the bucket from its usual spot, but there was no bucket. I looked under the pantry counter, in the washroom, and inside the studio—no sign of the bucket. I stepped out and looked around. I didn’t see any bucket. Baffled, I just sat at the entrance. I realized I never put the bucket back inside last night. I left it outside, and someone just decided to walk away with it. I wanted to ask around, but nobody was around at that time. I looked for any CCTV cameras, but there were none in sight. This gave me a bit of a scare. I was concerned if this building was secure enough to house a studio with so much expensive equipment.

I had to work, so I decided to order another one from Blinkit and be extra careful henceforth. I was very surprised that something like a bucket would get stolen! Blinkit showed a fancier bucket for double the price this time, and the basic one was out of stock. I ordered the fancy one, placed it at the outlet, and continued working.

Days passed, and one night I had to work late. At around 9 pm, I stepped out for dinner, locking only the glass door. I went back home and sat down for dinner when my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a transaction of five hundred something rupees. I couldn’t recognize the name of the company, but often these subscriptions end up getting charged under different names. I continued eating. Suddenly, my phone buzzed again—this time, the charge was Rs. 1800. This seemed like a fraud transaction. Before I could do anything, my phone started buzzing again and again with more transactions. I panicked and opened the ICICI app to block my card.

If you have the ICICI app, you know how slow it is. Once the app opens, a full-page ad loads. But it has a lag. So you touch “Debit Card,” but you actually end up opening the ad that takes many more seconds to load. Once you finally open the debit card section, you see the Block Card option. It then gives you a drop-down list to select a card (just one card in the list, of course). I clicked “Block,” and it gave me the confirmation that my card was blocked. This whole maneuver cost me Rs. 21,575.

I called the bank, blocked my account, and filed a case of Fraudulent Transactions. To do that, I had to fill out a form, file a case with the Cyber Crimes Cell, and file an FIR at the local police station. I opened the cyber crime reporting website, but I had to give a transaction ID for each transaction. I didn’t have access to my account anymore since everything was now blocked. This meant I had to step out the next day and go to the branch.

I was also assured that the amount would be credited to my account within ten days. However, it would be a shadow credit and wouldn’t be usable until the investigation was complete, which could take up to 21 days from the date of registration. If the transactions were indeed found to be fraudulent, then the money would be credited to my account. However, if they found the transactions were done by me, the money would be debited again. I disconnected the call and took a deep breath.

It was a very strange feeling. I had seen days where I wouldn’t even have this money in the account for so many transactions to go through. On one side, I was pissed at this uncalled-for inconvenience, but on the other, I was grateful that I still had money to keep going.

I suddenly remembered that I had to go back to the studio and finish the work. I walked back, and as I turned towards my studio, I noticed something missing. THE BUCKET! It was gone…AGAIN. I hurried to the main door and saw a puddle of water since the AC was running without any bucket. I looked around, and there wasn’t a soul in sight to ask about it. Someone decided to take this shiny, fancy-looking bucket. What did they do with the last one? Why did they need two buckets? How many more would they take if given the chance? Can you resell plastic buckets? The second one was absolutely new.

I was furious. I felt so helpless. And strangely, I was way more mad about the bucket than the money. I finished my work, locked everything up, and went back home. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know exactly why this missing bucket bothered me so much. I opened Amazon and started looking for CCTV cameras. After a couple of hours of researching, I decided to get TP-Link ones with unlimited cloud recording, which would be delivered the next morning. Of course, I also ordered memory cards for each. I booked an electrician on Urban Company. And finally, I fell asleep.

“Sir, both cameras are connected. Please configure them,” the electrician told me. I installed one at the entrance outside and one in the lobby. I configured them through the app and felt very assured seeing the live feed. Instead of buying a third bucket, I used the one I had at home. I was so very ready to catch this bucket thief. As the day ended, I was tempted to leave the bucket as bait outside, but then I decided to put it back inside. I thought I should wait a bit; the thief might sense it was bait and not take it. I was also somehow convinced that now it wouldn’t get stolen since the thief would be aware of the cameras.

The next morning, I reached ICICI Bank. I looked for my so-called Relationship Manager, but he was on leave. I explained my problem to the lady at one of the counters, and she gave me a form to fill out. I completed it, signed, and attached my photo ID along with a copy of my debit card. She handed me a printout of my bank statement. I realized the statement didn’t have the six-digit transaction IDs—just the remarks/comments for the transactions. I asked her about it, and she said she had access to the transaction IDs but couldn’t print them as a list. Each transaction opened up separately. I requested her to write them on the statement itself, as it was crucial that I provided the ID.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I don’t have that kind of time,” she told me without looking at me. I kept staring at her silently, with a question mark on my face. After about five seconds, she looked up, surprised to see me still there. She looked around and then pointed to another lady whose desk sign read, “Assistant Branch Manager.”

“Please speak to her. Maybe she can help you.”

I walked up to the Assistant Branch Manager. She was trying to calm down a very angry Marathi customer. Her surname was Sinha, and she clearly didn’t understand Marathi. The man was furious about being publicly accused of missing payments when all he wanted to know was why his account was blocked. He was embarrassed by the public announcement of his missed payments. Another Marathi-speaking colleague was trying to calm him down. Unable to resolve it, Mrs. Sinha diverted her attention toward me while the man continued his scene in the background. I explained my problem to her, mentioning that her colleague was too busy to help, so she sent me to her. The Assistant Manager sighed, took my statement, opened the transactions one by one, and noted down the transaction IDs next to each entry. She even signed and stamped it. I thanked her and left. By then, the man had settled down next to me.

Next stop was the cyber crime website. Entering the details for about 12–13 transactions took about an hour. After filing the report, I printed it out and headed to the police station.

“There have been these fraud transactions on my debit card…” I began telling the police officer.

“Please sit…” he politely interrupted. I sat down.

“Did you click any link or get a call?”

“No. These show up as swipe/tap transactions and not online transactions.”

“And you have your card with you? No add-on card with family or friends?”

“Yes, I have my card with me, and no, I don’t have any add-on card.”

“Did you travel to any foreign country recently?”

“Yes, I was in Thailand, but I’ve been back for 12 days now. I had to use my card in an ATM a couple of times there, so I suspect it might have been skimmed.”

“Yes, that’s a possibility. You need to file a report with the cyber crime cell.”

“Already done. Here’s the copy,” I handed over the stack of documents to him.

“You’ll need a copy of… oh, here it is… statement… here… ID proof… hmm, okay, everything’s here. Why don’t you go to office 9?” He handed me the papers and looked at one of his men. “Saavle saheb kade…(Take him to Mr. Saavle.)”

“Come, sir,” the man gestured for me to follow him. He led the way to room number 9, entered, then immediately stepped back out.

“He’s not here. Wait there; he’ll be back soon.”

I plonked down in a nearby chair. About fifteen minutes passed, and the same man came back and told me to go back to the same office I’d started in. I returned to find a new, sharper-looking man sitting there. He smiled and asked me to sit. I explained the situation once more. He scribbled something on the top page of my documents, signed it, and told me to return to room 9.

I entered room 9 again and handed over the documents. They read the notes, stamped the papers, and handed them back.

“This is your FIR. No need for a formal FIR form—this is sufficient. You can submit this to your bank. Have you been to office 5?”

“No, I haven’t been there.”

“Please do. He’s our expert on these cases; explain your case to him.”

“Sure. Thanks a lot.”

I went to room 5, which was cleaner and quieter. There was just one man with glasses working on his computer. He looked up, smiled, and asked me to sit. I explained the whole case, and he really was an expert. He told me all the possibilities for what might have happened, how easy or hard it would be to trace the origin of the transaction, and the types of cases he’s been seeing lately. Every time they find a technique to catch scammers, the scammers find new ways to escape. He explained the process: they would first approach the bank once the cyber cell forwarded the case to them. If the bank refused to cooperate (which he thought was rare), they’d launch a full-blown police investigation to trace the origin of the transaction. He assured me that the money would be returned.

Back at home, I scanned all the documents and emailed them to the provided bank email addresses, CC’ing the lady who had helped me just in case I needed to go back to her. Exhausted, I finally went to sleep.

The next morning, I went to the studio, put the bucket in its designated spot, and resumed work. Suddenly, I heard a knock. I opened the door to see my maid standing there with another lady who works in the building.

“HOW MANY BUCKETS WILL YOU BUY??!” she exclaimed, holding both of my buckets in her hand while the other lady was doubled over with laughter. It took me a second to understand what had happened.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE TAKING THE BUCKETS?”

“I DIDN’T TAKE THEM FOR MYSELF! I THOUGHT SOMEONE WOULD STEAL THEM, SO I KEPT THEM SAFE WITH ME INSIDE THE BUILDING!”

“I WAS WORKING WHEN YOU TOOK THE SECOND ONE; THE SHUTTER WAS STILL UP!”

“I KNOCKED! THE GLASS DOOR WAS LOCKED! I THOUGHT YOU WOULDN’T COME BACK!”

“WHY WOULD I LEAVE THE SHUTTER OPEN? WHY DIDN’T YOU COME TO CLEAN ALL THESE DAYS?”

“OUR TIMINGS WERE NOT MATCHING! I WOULD SEE THE OFFICE OPEN, THINK TO COME BACK AFTER FINISHING SOME OTHER WORK, AND BY THE TIME I RETURNED, IT WAS LOCKED! WHY DIDN’T YOU ASK HER ABOUT IT OR LOOK FOR ME?!”

“I DID! I DIDN’T SEE YOU OR HER! I THOUGHT THERE WAS A BUCKET THIEF IN THE BUILDING! SEE I GOT CAMERAS INSTALLED”

By this point, all three of us were laughing.

“Today, when I saw the third bucket, I thought I must stop this man or he’ll end up buying a new bucket every day,” she giggled as she started mopping the studio floor.

“I wouldn’t have if you’d just told me that you were keeping them safe. But thank you so much. That was really sweet of you.”

She smiled, and both of them continued laughing discussing this whole confusion.

I now had three buckets, two CCTV cameras and a maid with a sense of humour.

________________________________________________________________________________

Many days later, there was a knock on my door and it was a police officer with two young men.

"Hello. There has been a theft in the building. Someone stole his bike. We wanted to check your CCTV footage."

I opened my app and scroll through the footage to the timeline they wanted me to check. I couldn't believe what I saw. This man just casually walked in looking into my camera, dragged the bike out from the parking and then just walked walking dragging the bike along.

"Oh Wow! This camera has very clear footage. The society camera didn't give us enough information. Also, this fucker seemed to know about the society camera but wasn't aware of yours. Please send me the footage."

I forwarded him the footage through whatsapp. The man who lost his bike came me to and wanted a copy of the footage. He asked me if I coud airdrop it. I tried but he didn't have enough storage. He wanted to throw his phone. He would have cried at that point. He opened his gallery, deleted a bunch of stuff, deleted apps and then asked me to try again. I did but still it didn't go through. I forwarded the footage to him whatsapp in the end. He looked like he was more frustrated about his iPhone being low on storage than the bike being stolen.

As they left, I overheard the police guys saying they would now map his movement since they now have the exact timestamp. The police guys were convinced this is someone the man knows well. The man kept denying. But the police believed the thief was too calm and confident to have to come this building the first time ever.

As they walked away, I look into my camera, smiled and shut the door.