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Humor /Satire Chapter 11 “You know whose phone it was?” “Your father-in-law’s.” “No, you stupid ass. Do you think I would have said sir seventeen times if it had been my wife’s pop? The alarm in your nut never rings. That is why in spite of eighteen years of service you are still a bloody stupid constable. That was Naqli Wadia on the line.” “Na… Naqli Wadia that kapde wala seth?” “Yes, the Chairman of Bombay Living. He himself rang me up directly, not through his steno or private secretary. Pandu, I used to keep telling you no that one day I’ll become a very big man. This October Inspector Gangu Haath Marode will become DSP Gangu Haath Marode.” “Saar, you should not forget me, saar. Constable Pandu Jamaadar should become at least Head Constable Pandu Jamaadar.” We’ll see, we’ll see. You know, Pandu, your problem is that you talk too much. Now shut up and let me concentrate on more important things.” He looked at Unthonee and said, “Listen, what is your name? Mony or Pony or whatever, I am taking you into confidence and telling you the truth. If you cooperate with me there will be no problem. If you act funny you’ll get into serious trouble.” “Trouble? I don’t understand.” “Just now Naqli Wadia gave me a ring. The Hyundai Accent which ran over the boy belongs to his only son Goldy.” “Then your work is cut out, Just go ahead and arrest him.” “Shut your face and listen. Now this Goldy fellow is a thoroughly spoilt brat. He gets drunk and lands in some tight spot or the other. But Naqli Wadoa loves him one hell of a lot. And whom Naqli loves Inspector Haath Marode also loves. Goldy has till now been involved in four serious accidents. Two old men, one old woman and one dog came under his car. Using my intelligence and resources I saved him every time. Goldy has been very lucky for me. When he ran over the old men and the woman there had not been much of a problem – a matter of a few thousand rupees The Alsatian dog affair had got very sticky. The dog belonged to an influential bureaucrat and he had been hell bent on ensuring that Goldy was punished. I used my brains overtime and managed to extricate Goldy from that terrible mess. Nakli Wadia was very grateful and got me transferred from Satapur village to this city police station. In that bloody village I used to slog the whole day and get nothing. Here a minimum of thousand rupees is fixed.” “What do you mean by fixed?” “Arre bhai, you have seen the location of this Police Station. Isn’t it really sexy? Here all these fruit sellers and vegetable vendors give me fixed protection money every week. This apart, every day some lunatic like you lands up and I am richer by a few hundred. It is enough for my chicken and local whisky. What more does one want from life?” The inspector took a swig from the bottle, lighted a cigarette and spoke on. “Yes, so, as I was telling, Goldy has always been very lucky for me. Last time he got into trouble I got a transfer. This time he has landed in a mess I’ll get my promotion. DSP Gangu Haath Marode – how does it sound? Isn’t it really impressive?” “What do you want from me?” “You vanish from here very quietly. You have not seen any accident, you have not noted any number, you haven’t admitted anyone in the hospital and above all you haven’t come here.” “How can I do this? It is my duty to ensure that the culprit is brought to book.” “Hey, Pandu, this lunatic has started again. Earlier he was babbling about humanism and now he is bullshitting about duty. Hey, sonny, you think you are playing Amitabh Bacchhan’s role in Khakee or what? If you don’t vanish pronto I’ll really fix you.” “But, Inspector, if you don’t punish Goldy he will continue murdering people left, right and centre.” “So what is
it to you? He is supplementing the Government’s efforts towards
population control. The Government is spending crores on its family
planning and population control activities. This poor boy is
contributing his mite, using his own resources. He is drinking his own
whisky and burning his own petrol. Instead of awarding him you are
talking about punishing him. All this is very unfair, I say.” “Bloody bastard!” Screamed the Inspector getting up. “You are trying to threaten me… Inspector Haath Marode!” “Saar, future DSP Haath Marode, saar,” whispered Pandu. “Thank you, Pandu - you are trying to threaten future DSP Haath Marode. I’ll smash you! I’ll teach you such a lesson you’ll forget all that horse dung about humanism and duty.” He picked up the bottle of whisky and threw it on Unthonee’s face. “Pandu, throw this guy in the lock-up. Bastard drinks and drives! Kills innocent people! Bugger should be hanged!!” Pandu caught hold of the dazed Unthonee’s hand and pushed him inside a dimly lit room and locked the door. “Listen, Pandu, make a report quickly that this fellow Muni while driving in a state of complete drunkenness ran over a ten year old boy. Next ring up that Government Hospital Doctor – what’s his name? That drunkard fellow – yes - Kaalu Kulfiram. You ask him to come here immediately.” “Why, sir? You are not keeping well? This whisky and chicken combination has not suited you.” “No, you
donkey. He will examine Unthonee and write in his report that he is dead
drunk. You also summon those jokers who give false witness – Iqbal
Mirchi, Panther Menon and Bada Shakeel.” “Don’t worry, saab, as long as Pandu Jamaadar is here there will be no problem. And saab I am so proud to work with you. Tussi great ho. You will definitely become Police Commissioner.” “Yes, I know that, now don’t try to butter me too much and go ahead with your job.” * * * In the lock-up Unthonee was in a miserable state. The time was around six a.m. He had not slept a wink the whole night. He looked bleary eyed and bedraggled. Just outside, Pandu was sitting in his chair and sleeping. “Pandu Jamaadar Saheb,” whispered Unthonee. “What is it? Why are you disturbing me? I was seeing such a nice dream. I have become an Inspector and Haath Marode has been demoted to the rank of a Constable. He is standing with folded hands in front of me and I am abusing him in perfect English.” “Hawaldaar Sahab, I need your help.” “What help?” “I want to make a phone call.” “No, I can’t allow you to phone. If the Inspector comes to know I’ll be finished.” “Please, Pandu Sahab, I’ll give you a gift.” Pandu’s eyes lit up. “Gift? What gift?” Unthonee removed a gold chain from around his neck and showed it to Pandu. “See this, it is pure gold. I’ll give it to you if you let me make a phone call.” Pandu got up and moved towards Unthonee. “Give me.” “No, first you allow me to make the phone call.” “Okay, but make it fast and no funny business.” Pandu walked to the desk where Unthonee’s mobile had been kept, picked it up and handed it over to him. Unthonee spoke for five minutes and then returned the mobile to Pandu along with the gold chain. Two hours later Unthonee was still dozing in the lock-up. The Inspector was reading a cheap film magazine while Pandu was busy cleaning his ears. Every two minutes Pandu removed the glittering chain from his pocket very surreptitiously, looked at it with reverence, grinned and put it back again. Just then Dude entered. Seeing him the Inspector got up hastily and saluted him. Dude asked him something and the Inspector gestured towards the lock-up. Dude walked up to where Unthonee was standing, looking bed raggled and red-eyed. “Thank God you have come, Dude. Please get me out of here quickly.” “Tony, You shouldn’t have got involved. You have landed yourself in a real mess.” “But, Dude, how could I just watch…” “Anyway, whatever has happened has happened. Now listen carefully. There is only one solution. Do you remember the number of the taxi in which you took the boy to the hospital?” “Yes, I noted it down before releasing the taxi. I thought I’ll reward him for his help later. But why do you want to know?” “Give me the number. We’ll have to get him arrested.” “Arrested? But why?” “In the charge sheet we will substitute your name with his.” “But that is very unfair. That poor fellow went out of the way to help me out. I can’t do this to him.” “You decide. It’s either your neck or his. Someone has to be implicated.” “But what about that scoundrel Goldy? You can’t let him escape.” “We can’t touch him. This very year, for our party’s election campaign, Naqli is giving two crores. Forget about Goldy—you think about saving your skin.” “But what about the driver? He’ll land up in jail isn’t it?” “Yes, he’ll be inside for around four to five years. However, don’t you worry, he will be suitably compensated. And once he comes out, we can induct him into Congress Alpha.” “But once he is branded a jailbird his reputation will be totally ruined. What use can he be to your party?” “You don’t understand. In fact his reputation will be enhanced. We need people like him. In Janata Khichdi the majority of the members are jailbirds. Believe me, a jailbird will be welcomed by out party and he will get a good job.” “In that case it is alright but I still feel very guilty.” “Forget about guilt and worry about your own precious skin.” “Okay.” “Good. That is the spirit.” Dude went up to the Inspector and spoke to him. The Inspector started noting down. He then got up, went to the lock-up, opened the door and saluted Unthonee. “What, saab, you never told me you know such big people like Dude Saab.” “You never gave me a chance.” “Sorry, saab, very sorry. But as you know I was only doing my duty. Now please give me the taxi number.” Unthonee wrote down the number on a chit and handed it to the Inspector. Unthonee, Yuppy and the Inspector shook hands. Page 1 |
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