Spy Kedi in Marriage Kand
Author Kedi Ganapati
✦ Table of Contents ✦
The First Interview
I applied to detective agencies and called them all. Eventually, one based in Andheri asked me to come in the next day for an interview.
I spent the next two hours frantically guessing what kinds of questions they might ask an aspiring detective. Ultimately, I understood absolutely nothing and decided that the first couple of interviews would just have to be practice.
The next day in Andheri, the interview turned out to be surprisingly ordinary. There were no mysterious or complex detective questions at all.
Instead, the boss simply laid out the terms: "Tomorrow you're going to Surat on a case. Travel by bike. Keep all bills — petrol, food, hotel — and the company will pay."
Out of sheer curiosity, I said yes. They probably thought I was highly experienced, but the truth was, I knew zero about detective work. Whatever the boss said, I just kept nodding "yes, yes," without understanding a single word.
The Surat Mission
The next morning, the boss paired me with an "experienced" detective called Sonu (probably a code name). I never asked personal questions — that's a rule of the trade.
We rode my bike to Surat, booked a room near the subject's house, and started tailing him from dawn. For the first time in my life, I was chasing a stranger's car through a strange city with another stranger sitting behind me. I kept thinking, what the hell am I even doing? Do I really need this?
Then I realised: if I don't do this, I'll never feel these strange emotions. To feel them, I have to live them.
Sonu did almost nothing, as if he already knew the mission would fail. But it was my first case, my bike, and my handlebar. Quietly, I took command while pretending everything was happening according to his plan. I stayed invisible and stuck to the target.
Two days later, we delivered exactly what the boss wanted and rode back to Mumbai.
A New Agency, A New Life
The Andheri agency sent people all over India — which was impossible for me. I'm my mother's darling; I can't stay away from her for even a single day. So, I left.
But my detective research wasn't complete. I found another agency in Panvel that worked exclusively within Mumbai and Navi Mumbai. It was perfect.
After the Surat trip, I had a brand new confidence. Now my only job was to follow subjects and report where they went all day. Most of the time, however, that simply meant waiting four to six hours in one spot.
The waiting quickly became absolute torture. I got irritated and angry for no reason, and I started hating myself and feeling completely useless. Every day, I prayed for a "good" case.
Sometimes I worked directly with my boss, Seema. Even she got irritated while waiting; sometimes she even fell asleep. But I never slept — I only grew more furious. It felt like the subject was actively stealing my life, while he didn't even know I existed.
The Bouncer Walks In
One day, Seema Ma'am took me to a client's house in Vashi. I was going to the gym daily in those days, built heavy like a bodybuilder. The moment the client saw me, he grinned at Ma'am and said, "Wow, the bouncer is also there — perfect!"
My chest swelled with pride. I decided right then and there: whatever happens, I am cracking this case.
The client sat us down and told us he had been ruthlessly cheated in a fake marriage. The very day after the wedding, his new wife had packed up all the cash and jewellery and vanished back to her maternal home — which, as it turned out, was actually her first husband's house.
She and her old in-laws ran a calculated racket: they would deliberately target families dealing with mental or physical illness, arrange a marriage, loot them the next day, and completely disappear.
Our client's family happened to have a history of mental illness, making them the perfect, easy target. Listening to him speak, I felt a heavy mix of intense rage and deep pity wash over me.
The client looked at us politely and said, "I have their old address, but they've already fled. Just find their new address for me. I'll handle the rest of the matter myself."
I had never witnessed that kind of raw pain before. I went completely silent. In that moment, I just wanted to leave the room and start working immediately.
Tracking the Criminals
The next day, we reached the old Thane address, only to find a locked flat. The neighbours there knew absolutely nothing about where the family had gone.
Faced with a dead end, Boss decided we would stand near the society gate and discreetly enquire with people passing by. After two long hours of waiting, one neighbour finally gave Boss a lead: the woman was now living with her in-laws in a nearby building.
We had the new address, but now we needed solid confirmation and undeniable proof. I suggested going into the house disguised as a courier guy. Boss absolutely loved the idea and ordered me to go right in.
The Undercover Moment
I was absolutely scared. These weren't ordinary people — they were a full criminal gang. My boss said, "Take the video from your shirt pocket. Flash it off. Nothing will happen."
I argued back, "If they catch me recording, they'll kill me on the spot." But Ma'am insisted, "I'm a woman; I can't pass as a courier. You have to go."
I reached their door and rang the bell. A woman named Kamini opened it. "Yes? Whom do you want?" she asked. My tongue froze for a second.
Regaining my composure, I said, "Your parcel keeps returning, ma'am. The company sent me to verify the address. Is your name Kamini?"
When she asked for my ID, I panicked but quickly blurted out, "Today is Sunday, my off day. I'm a verification officer and live in Andheri. I was coming here in two days anyway, saw your building, and thought I'd just finish it. Otherwise, I'd have to travel all the way from Andheri to Thane again the day after…"
To avoid any more of her questions, I said loudly again, "Your name is Kamini, right?"
As soon as she heard the name "Kamini," she called me inside. Her elderly in-laws were in the bedroom with the door wide open. She told me to wait near the main door and went inside to talk to them.
One Leg on the Floor
Suddenly, the father-in-law signalled me to come into the bedroom. The moment I walked in, all three of them surrounded me and started firing aggressive questions.
"When did the parcel first come? How many times did it return? From where? Which addresses?" they demanded.
I knew absolutely nothing about any parcel — the word had just slipped out of my mouth earlier. Desperate for a cover, I suddenly remembered my old call-centre script and let it take over.
"Sir, I'm only sent for address verification," I said smoothly. "I'm not even allowed to touch the parcel — that's why I didn't bring it with me. Once I update your correct address in our system, the delivery boy will come. We have a very strict privacy policy, so I cannot share extra information. Please cooperate."
Hearing this, their faces instantly changed colour. At the exact same time, my left leg started shaking violently out of pure anxiety. I tried with all my might to control it but failed completely. Finally, I just lifted my foot off the floor and stood on one leg like a stork so the ground wouldn't vibrate and give away my panic.
By then, my hidden camera had captured excellent video footage of all three faces. It was time to escape.
"Sir, a verification officer is not allowed inside customer premises for long," I added quickly. "I'll update your address in the system immediately. Your parcel will arrive soon. Thank you."
Case Closed
I walked out slowly so they wouldn't suspect anything. But the moment I cleared the door, I bolted down the stairs and ran straight back to Boss.
When she saw me running like a coward, she almost laughed. However, the moment I showed her the video, she went completely quiet. We had clear faces and clear proof. Just like that, the case was closed in a single day.
Boss went home after that, but I couldn't just leave. I sat at a bus stop right outside the society, my mind racing: criminals were out there living freely, while the victims were still suffering. There was absolutely no justice.
I realized then that while I can tolerate seeing physical pain in others, witnessing mental pain and blatant injustice burns me to my core.
Note: This content represents the first chapter of Kedi Purana, a 64-chapter work authored by Kedi Ganapati. Kedi Purana is a modern Purana of the present and final Kaliyuga.
