Back to being me again…
Phew! Mercy! The visits have dropped off again. So… where was I before this whole mess started. Let’s see, I’d just finished hitting on The Compulsive Confessor. She was ‘impressed’ by my attempt, but she refuses to meet me Awwww. Ah well – her loss.
Now, let me tell you a common tale. It’s 4 am in the morning. You’re driving back to Delhi (from Gurgaon) on the M.G. Road. It’s just you and a (female) friend (no she seriously is just a friend!). So maybe you’ve abused a bit too many substances, or maybe it’s 4 am, or maybe it was just meant to be. But a bit of road divider had come off (you know, one of those huge stone blocks you keep wishing your car doesn’t hit)…. and your lovely Honda City goes right over it, causing both the right hand front and back tyre to puncture. And the rims ended up dented….
REALLY luckily, you manage to drag your car over the border, into Delhi. Right at the border, there are the usual slew of 8 men from the ‘Banas Sands’ company, who are responsible for collecting the toll from all commercial traffic entering delhi, and about 3/4 traffic policemen…
Now this situation, can get real frikkin’ messy in this city. It’s just you and an attractive lady, in a semi-big car. It’s 4.am. You wouldn’t pass the breathalyser if anybody tried to test you with it.
I rolled down my windows, and asked the guys if they had a spare jack (because my jack appeared to be busted). The policeman came up to me, and said, what would be the point, both my tires are busted (badly). He said why don’t you just leave the car here, and try and arrange for alternate transport. Now the thing is, I actually have a curfew of 1 am. And this curfew is based on faith. My parents are old. They sleep early. And my dad cannot see very well at night what with the high beam and all. So I really didn’t want to call home and ask for help.
So I asked the policeman if he could arrange a lift somehow. And he did. Without any comments about what happened to the car, without passing any curious comments about who my lady friend was, without asking for a bribe. He stood at the border, and attempted to flag down passing vehicles. 2 of them refused us. But just then, a call centre cab drove up. It was going to East of Kailash (my place, and my friends place are on the way). It was populated with a driver, and young woman who works for IBM.
I pulled out my wallet and was about empty the contents (80 rupees worth) into the policeman’s hand (as I figured he would expect it). He refused to take anything, and said, just come back early tomorrow to pick up the car.
We got into the cab and drove home (and I’m forbidden from going out late for a while… ah parents…!).
(We came back today to pick up the car, which was sitting exactly where it had been a few hours ago).
The point of this story? It’s 4 am. This is Delhi. We weren’t mugged. We weren’t molested. We weren’t murdered. The car wasn’t stolen. The policeman did his job without any additional incentive. Yes, there was a lot of luck on my side – my car busted near the border abd that we found a cab going in our direction. But it could still have turned out to be a very different night.
If there’s a God, thank you.
Dear Mr. Policeman, I hope you have a long and happy life, and I hope, that someday, I can make it up to you (for simply doing your Job? Yes, even just for that).