Wednesday 12 November 2014

ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND- Part 1

This series, 'Encounters of the third kind' is dedicated to memorable encounters with people, both good and bad, that have left a mark on my memory!!!


As we know that the police is someone you would approach in times of distress and also makes you feel safe when in danger. However i have had some contradictory experiences one of which i have shared here. (I have deliberately left out details on the branch, names etc).


A couple of years back I lost my mobile phone. My bad. With all my work and family pictures and lots of personal information stored inside, I panicked. I thought maybe reporting it with police may help with some chance of finding it back as one of the friends I know had been successful locating it with the help of the police. Also i needed an FIR to apply for a duplicate SIM.
 So I walked in to the nearby police station to file a report. Confidently. As soon as I reached I realized I made a huge mistake visiting this place. I was directed to a room on the first floor with two tables and a smaller room connecting it. One pot bellied mustached police man sat on one table and another similar looking stood nearby. They were questioning an old guy reeking of alcohol, seated on the floor with hands folded and sobbing, "saar manichiringu saar!".
As I entered they asked my business. I said I was there to report my missing phone. The police man looked at each other and exchanged an amused look and the seated guy pointed me to a bench asking me to wait. I sat feeling little uncomfortable. I looked around at the room. Cobwebs everywhere on the ceiling. There were these huge cartons of old monk and some other such brands kept om the loft, consisting of old files i suppose. I mentally counted around 6 or so. I mean like cartons of alcohol bottles? Seriously? In a police station? Are they allowed to drink in a police station? Isn't that their work place? Don't work places have rules? Or maybe rules don't apply to government work places? A creepy feeling crept up my spine as I realized the men to women ratio in the room was 3:1.
They were questioning the old man who was still sobbing and narrating some story explaining what led him to create the mob activity that he was held for. In my mind I knew it must have been the alcohol that caused it.
My attention was drawn to a third police man pacing up an down the corridor staring at me.This was the moment I wished I could have ran out of this creepy place. I looked down at myself to see if I was decently clothed and if a burkha might have been the appropriate dress code to this place.I realized I was dressed modestly enough in a decent black salwar kameez with full sleeves and high neck with a dupatta draped over and I realized that it was not me, but this perverted man's eyes would have penetrated and bored deep through any type of woman's clothing even if she was wearing an iron suit. Some men just have that x-ray vision, you know.
I wondered that if a woman felt so unsafe and vulnerable in the presence of men who are legally endowed to protect you, then there is no place I would feel safe. Nevertheless, I put up a brave face with a "don't mess with me" expression and stared the angriest stare at the policeman outside. I think he understood that I didn't like what he was doing and walked away.
So my turn comes and the seated police guy points at the chair in front of him. Asks me the matter. I realized that English speaking wouldn't be appropriate here and in my most confident Tamil I explained the whole scene to him. He and the other guy exchanged chuckling glances hearing me talk but I ignored and went on with my monologue as he took notes. After I was done, I asked him what were my chances of finding my lost mobile. "None", he said. I just looked at him in dismay for sitting there for so long wasting my time. He went on to say how people lose mobile phones everyday and till now my SIM would have till now been tossed into a gutter, and the mobile sold to some shop who would have restored the factory settings and in turn sold it to someone else. And frankly, they have better work and more important pending cases than looking for lost mobiles. "Still we will try our best Madam, but don't be too hopeful". Point noted.
 I said a polite thank you and left also leaving behind any hope of finding my lost mobile. I could have sworn they mocked me after i had left, as I saw that third policeman join them too. I walked away as fast as i could promising myself to be the best citizen ever so that I never have to encounter being in a police station again!