We have a small police chowki inside our colony. (How imperial that sounds - our colony.) The most action I have seen there are the Nirula delivery guys carrying boxes of pizzas inside, some scuffle for change and such like.
Otherwise, the place is just a landmark for me to locate the lane that leads home. Despite that, I get lost every single time I enter the colony, but that’s another story. (I am stupid - that’s the story.)
So, last evening, as I ambled along a dark, leafy lane, two guys on a motorcycle approached me.
‘Where is C-65?’, one of them asked politely.
‘I don’t know’, I replied. ‘But there’s the police station right there. You can ask there’, I volunteered, all in the spirit of co-operative humanity.
The guy is silent for a while. As I continued my amble, he called me again, ‘Madam, one minute....’
The guy took off his helmet and asked me quite earnestly, ‘Did I misbehave with you or anything? Why did you tell me to go to the police station?’
Now madam is jolted. I tried to assuage him. ‘No, no, nothing like that. I just thought they would know where the house is, that’s all....’
He wasn’t listening to me but apologizing in a flurry. ‘I am sorry if there was any badtameezi, madam, but I only wanted to know....’
I didn’t quite know how to respond. I tried to calm him down and told him he was far from ill-mannered, etc. but he went on and on. His partner had gone off on a separate expedition to find out where C-65 was.
In the mean time, the Nirula delivery man, now on his way, happened to over hear our little rant of miscommunication.
Turned out, he was going to C-65 next and the guys could follow him if they wanted to.
I wonder if any of the Nirula snack was offered to the un-badtameez guy.
On another note, I saw a small bird shed purple droppings on the terrace.
A man’s mind, a bird’s tummy ... who knows what’s going on in there, right?