My Brother’s Great Invention By Anita Rau Badami

Class 07 English

“Who put that water bag here?” roared my father from the front doorstep. “Your burglar alarm,” I hissed to my brother Anand, who was getting ready to disappear from the house. Ma rushed in to see what the racket was all about and found Papa standing there, sopping wet and scowling.

“I want to know who is behind this nonsense,” Papa said grimly.

“I think it’s supposed to be a burglar alarm,” Ma said, in a soothing voice.

“I don’t care what it’s supposed to be,” Papa said.

“Where’s that boy? I’m sure he rigged this up.”

Anand had vanished by this time and reappeared only after dinner when Papa had cooled down.

Before this story, let me put you in the picture. I am Anita, fourteen years old. My brother Anand, one year younger than me, caused all that hoo-ha with his burglar alarm. And this is not the first time he’s got on Papa’s nerves or frightened someone half to death in the house. The trouble with him is that he thinks he is a scientist. He loves tinkering with all sorts of electrical gadgets, tools, dynamos, planks of wood, and things like that. And he keeps creating ‘inventions’ that never work out as they are supposed to.

Recently there had been a rush of thefts in the colony and Anand had got it into his head that what was needed was a burglar alarm. So, the minute Papa left for the office and Ma for the market, he started on his latest scheme. As usual I had to be involved, though I’d have preferred to finish my novel. “If you get a shelling, don’t bring me in,” I warned Anand.

“Nothing will go wrong this time. I’ve planned it out carefully. See the blueprint.”

Anand loves words like blueprint — it makes him feel professional! Anyway, I looked at the elaborate drawing of doors, wires, and bells and asked, “How does this thing work?”

“It’s quite simple. The moment the door opens, this alarm is tripped off and makes a clanging sound. Then this water bag here is loosened and falls on the thief’s head. By then we call the police — simple!”

“But how does the alarm know that a burglar is opening the door?”

“I’ve taken care of that,” Anand said loftily. I had my own doubts about the alarm’s guessing powers, but kept them to myself because when Anand is in one of his inventive moods, nothing stops him.

“You see,” Anand explained smugly, “A thief tries to open the door stealthily. I’ve rigged it up so that the alarm works only when the door is opened gently.”

I was sceptical. “Remember, if Papa asks, I’m not involved,” I warned. “Now clean up this mess before anyone gets home.”

As you already know, my doubts about the alarm were quite justified. Papa, who always opens the door softly, was thoroughly soaked and angry as angry could be. Anyway, for a week after this, Anand did not dare try out anything new. Then we saw this film ‘Back to the Future’. I don’t know if you have seen it, but it’s all about a time machine. Well, that was the end of peace and quiet in the house.

My brother decided that he had to make a time machine too. Papa locked up his tool box and hid the key while Ma kept a wary eye on her oven and mixer. Because, as I told you, when Anand is on one of his inventing binges, he takes apart all the gadgets in the house to collect parts. You can’t imagine the noise that was going on — hammering and sawing and clattering. Anand’s room, next to our room, was transformed into a network of wires, springs, levers, and bulbs. There was an enormous panel which was to be control switchboard. As for Anand, he went around looking like a savage. When Ma didn’t notice, the fellow didn’t even comb his hair.

Anand just wouldn’t let anyone into his room. Finally, after a fortnight of frantic activity, the time machine was ready. “We can try it out tonight,” Anand announced to everyone at home at lunch time.

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to in that room, but you’re not trying out anything new,” Papa said firmly.

“But it’s a time machine! I’ve invented it,” Anand protested. 

“When I say NO, I mean NO,” Papa said, glaring.

“Poor boy,” Ma said noticing Anand’s crestfallen look.

“At least let’s take a look at it.”

Papa sighed. “All right, but if the house falls, it’s your fault.”

As it turned out, we could not try out the time machine that day at all. The next day, Papa and Ma were going to Kharagpur, a few hours away from Calcutta (now Kolkata), for a wedding. Ma was worried about leaving us alone, but we reassured her. “We’re old enough to look after ourselves, Ma,” I said. “And we can go next door to Sharma Aunty if we need anything.”

“And it’s only one night,” Anand added.

“All right. But promise me you won’t do anything with that time machine till we come back,” Ma said sternly, looking at Anand. He promised half-heartedly, offended at this lack of respect for his creation. I breathed a sigh of relief.

II

They left by the afternoon train and were coming back the following evening. Anand fell asleep immediately, but I stayed up to finish a novel. At about eleven thirty I thought I heard a scratching at the front door. Telling myself it was only my imagination, I went back to the book. A little later there was a rattle and a click. I was really scared, I can tell you, what with a murder story before me and then strange noises in the middle of the night! I shook Anand and whispered, “Listen, there’s someone at the door.”

“Go and open it then,” he muttered groggily.

“You silly! Someone’s trying to get in,” I said.

Anand sat up. “Who? What?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “What shall we do?”

“Let’s holler for help,” he said. Before we could do anything, the door swung open and we found ourselves looking at a ruffianly fellow with a green scarf around his neck. Anand gasped.

“Hey, it’s Boppa!” I whispered. It was indeed the fellow who had recently begun sweeping out the compounds in our row of houses. So, he was the thief, and no wonder. He knew exactly when the occupants were out, leaving the coast clear.

The fellow gave an evil grin. “One squeak out of you and see what happens,” he said, brandishing his cudgel and backing out of the room. We heard him slide the latch in.

“What do we do now?” I asked in a low voice.

“Let’s shout anyway,” Anand suggested.

The door opened suddenly again in the middle of our discussion.

“No noise from you! Now, where is your father’s room?”

I was about to direct him upstairs when Anand said quickly, “The one next to this one.”

“You silly goose!” I said angrily as soon as the man had gone.

“That’s your room. He’ll come back as mad as mad can be.”

“At least it will give us some time to think of something,” Anand said. “He’ll take a while to locate the light switch. Let’s shout.” All of a sudden there was a crash followed by a loud scream. More strange noises emerged from the next room — a few muffled thumps, an eerie whine, and a low, humming sound.

“My time machine, he’s started it!” Anand gasped. “I wish we could get out of this room and see what is happening out there.”

There was another howl, much fainter this time, and a great deal of clattering. We shouted for all we were worth. In a few minutes, we heard footsteps running up our drive. Thankfully we recognised Mrs. Sharma’s voice, along with her husband and Dr. Mohan — also a neighbour.

“Anand! Anita! Children, what’s the matter? Where are you?”

“Here!” we shouted in unison. In a minute the door was unlocked.

“What on earth has been happening here, children?” Sharma Uncle asked. Both Anand and I fell over ourselves trying to explain. “Where is the fellow now?”

“The last we heard, he was in the time machine,” I explained hastily, seeing everyone looking rather puzzled.

We entered the room cautiously and turned on the lights. The time machine was still humming softly but otherwise there was no other sound from the room.

“Well, where is he?” Dr. Mohan asked, peering behind the door. “Did you imagine this?”

“Oh no,” I protested. “How could both of us have imagined the same thing?”

“Maybe he ran out,” Anand suggested.

“I’m sure we’d have seen him. There’s only one way out of this house and we came the same way as soon as we heard you,” Sharma Uncle sounded very sure.

“Look!” Anand said, pointing to the floor. “He was wearing that.” Near the panel of switches was the green scarf.

“Let’s search the house — perhaps he’s still around,” Dr. Mohan said, going upstairs.

Boppa was nowhere to be seen. “Well maybe he did run out and we missed him,” Mrs. Sharma said at last, “I can’t imagine what else could have happened.”

“My time machine! He’s gone through that!” Anand burst out, his eyes shining.

“What an imagination this boy has!” Mr. Sharma said, smiling indulgently. “Now off to bed, both of you. I’ll spend the night here so you needn’t worry about any more intruders now.”

Needless to say, Boppa was never seen again. Anand insists that his time machine worked and he disappeared into the past. The machine itself was dismantled because Papa thought it wasn’t safe (maybe he also had a niggling suspicion that it worked), so we couldn’t try it out.

As for Anand, he is convinced that he is a genius and has launched a new project — something about a telephone to contact creatures in outer space. Tell you all about it next time.