ONE day my 5-year-old daughter, Mini, ran to the window crying: "A Cabuliwallah  ! A Cabuliwallah!" In the street below was a Cabuliwallah, passing slowly along. Mini called him loudly but when he looked at her she ran away scared. Shortly after this, the two became friends. They started to hang out together, laughing and talking. Mini's new friend would give her raisins   and almonds   , spending the little money he had on her. The two of them enjoyed joking together. The Cabuliwallah, who was called Rahmun, would say: "Well, little one, when are you going to the father-in-law's house?" Mini did not understand this and was puzzled. One morning, I heard uproar   in the street, and saw Rahmun being led away by the police. There were bloodstains on his clothes. I gathered that a neighbor had owed Rahmun money for a shawl   but had falsely denied having bought it, and that in the course of the quarrel Rahmun had struck him. On a charge of murderous assault  , Rahmun was sentenced to jail. Time passed, and he was not remembered. Mini grew up and we were making arrangements for her wedding. I was sitting in my study when someone entered. It was Rahmun, the Cabuliwallah, released from prison. Barely recognizable now, he asked to see Mini and said that all those years ago she had reminded him of his own daughter in Kabul. It was his belief that Mini was still the same. He had pictured her running to him calling "Cabuliwallah!". He had imagined that they would laugh and talk together. In fact, he had brought her, wrapped up in paper, a few almonds and grapes. The two were reunited but Mini had grown up. She now understood the meaning of the word "father-in-law," and when he made this joke once more she flushed up   at the question. He could not revive   their old friendship. When Rahmun left, I gave him a bank note, saying: "Go back to your own daughter, and may the happiness of your meeting bring good fortune to my child!" Having made this present, I had to give up the electric lights and the military band I had intended for the wedding and the ladies in the house were disappointed. But to me the wedding feast was all the brighter for the thought that in a distant land a long-lost father met again with his child. Adapted from Tagore's   short novel The Cabuliwallah Why was Rahmun put into prison?
He hurt a man. He stole a shawl. He cheated his neighbor. He was dishonest in his business.