COP STORY

Through my years in college, the home bird that I am, I have rarely ventured far. Commuting up to Vashi is a laborious task, one of the main reasons I never join classes.

So the other day I grasped at an opportunity to take a walk around Vashi in the pleasurable company of a lady friend. The only place in Vashi I happen to know is sector 17. So trudging up all the way to the mini sea shore was a novel experience.

I am not much of a sea-baby, have seen mountain-heads go gaga when they see the sea for the first time. Trust me; you won’t be, if you’ve lived more than half your life, less that half a km away from the beach. And mini sea shore it isn’t much of a shore to the sea. More like a forgotten, decrepit lake of sorts.

The walk inside was pretty endearing though. The walkway, lined with green was something that reminded me of my hometown. There also happened to be some sort of festival over there, meaning crowds; one more thing I dislike. I’d had a tiresome day in college, and howsoever much I may like walks, they do tend to tire me out. So we found a place reserved for elderly and women citizens to sit on and sat a meter apart, I know because that’s how much my hand could stretch out without a trace of human contact!

The story gets interesting now. We were discussing important issues, not like world saving, but salvation on a ‘personal level’ issues. Being brought up in a small town, I am uncomfortable in female company around public places, so I was categorically on the lookout for any kind of intrusive eyes. With a sharp clang, and the cacophony of a hundred Nokia alarms and air raid klaxons sounding all round, a couple of khakis came sauntering in on a Pulsar and stopped right in front of us.

Oh! Another good cop, bad cop routine to follow. I should have trusted these two specimens with a little intelligence though, both were bad cops. With sidelong glances at my lady friend, they both come up to me and asked what I happened to be doing there. The smartass that I am, I said I was taking a walk and was sitting because I was tired. They both delivered ridiculous misbelieving looks that my teachers reserve for the choicest of occasions when I use the lamest of excuses as a cover up.

My lady friend tried to intervene, an inherently flawed move, said her parents knew where she was and it wasn’t wrong to sit in the company of a gent in a public park.

Ouch! Bad cops started a rant about it being illegal and how it was a festival day and there was a bandobast and mentioned about gaadi mein chalo station.

I am a lawyer’s son, have had a few shady encounters with these guys, have a tough skin and would have dished it right back to the nags, but only if it was Ratnagiri, this is Bombay baby. I chose the easy way out. Knew it wouldn’t be beyond the IQ of these guys with their pea sized brains to throw some mud at my lady friend’s character and cook up something frivolous. Festival time means these guys are out on a money drive, and why not make somebody’s day.

I gestured him to come to the side, now it was the three of us, men who would talk business, who could reason without threatening. I asked him for a way out. Thousand came back the reply. I pretended not to hear, I told him I was a student and could give only a fifty. A flabbergasted frown followed up; I was trying to bribe a dishonest police officer with a measly fifty, how demeaning could that be!

They presented a renegotiated deal cutting it down to half. I removed a hundred rupee note, thrust it into their hands and said that’s all I could afford. The bastards smiled; the matter resolved, the cops moved on without ensuring that we leave, leaving us to continue our humble tête-à-tête.

One thing that stabbed me later, I would have gladly paid a thousand quid if I were caught in a compromising position with a pretty lady, but at a meter away almost facing two different directions seems to be a waste of my old man’s money.

I proportion blame to the whole for the actions of a few. So I change from Airtel to Vodafone, just because a couple of Customer Execs were unhelpful.

I started off this article wanting to present an anguished and concerned tirade against these sods. Uncouth ruffians, overweight buffoons, I have a hundred other adjectives in my arsenal, but somewhere in the middle I lost track.

The point is, I really do hate cops, someday if I have the necessary means and power; there will be a change, mark my words.