The previous time it happened I was glad. The fine seemed a small price to pay for having a parchi that certified me to drive in exchange for my dubious, expired, international license. This time, I was not so thrilled.
There were five cops standing at the turning and one of them figured I was on the phone and waved at me to stop. I did. (I wish I hadn’t seen him, then I could have driven safely away). But stop I did and the man turned up and started the usual cop conversation under such circs. (all the cop bits translated from Marathi / hindi and all of my bits translated from the hindi)
Cop: You have to pay a fine.
Me: Okay. How much?
Cop: You can’t pay it here because the saab with the bill book is not here.
Me: Okay. But where do I pay it
Cop: You have to go to the chowky. Actually you have to go to court.
Me: Okay.
Copy: I can’t gaurantee anything. In court it depends on the judge. He may suspend your license, decide on any sentence.
Me: Okay.
In the meanwhile a fatter cop walks up. (I am wondering if cop hierarchy is determined by level of gut hanging over the belt).
Fatter Cop: What happened?
Cop: Mobile phone offence. Writing chit.
Fatter Cop: Tch tch. don’t send for court. Ladies log. What will she do there. (turning to me) Madam you go to Ghatkopar chowkie under the bridge.
he then turns around and walks off. In short order the ‘parchi’ is in my hand, my license in his pocket and I’m on the road again.
Later, I read it in peace, start googling and discover the following.
http://trafficpolicemumbai.org/ is quite decent. Among other things, states the rather insane rule on mobile phone usage: ‘Phone must be swtched off when driver is at the wheel’ and confirms that no one less than a Sub-Inspector can accept a fine amount and issue a receipt for it. Also gives a list of the chowkies with no address or location information!
It is not upto the cop to decide whether you have to go to court. The rule says if you go within three working days to the chowky and pay the fine they have to give it to you. After three days you gotta go to court.
Also in the public interest… if you get stuck on the Eastern Express Highway betweeen Mulund and Kurla, the chowky you need to head towards is right under the flyover on the highway. Its opposite the turn-off to the Ghatkopar Bus Depot.
Thanks Toinks! An easy-peasy topic for a post The sixth photo from a sixth album… and its hoist with your own petard since photo is of you and the family.
For the general public… A year ago I went back to Dilli to meet all the babies. Ita is the latest arrival to our family. This pic is of Toinks (doing her best aadarsh maa look), Sri (doing his usual goofy thing) and Ita outside the restaurant where Ita went for her first dinner out. She slept through it and blinked her eyes open just in time for dessert. Good instict girl! Even if you were too young to follow through
Where do vehicles seized by the police go? Here’s the answer. Clearly the folks at the Powai Police Station are commited to using space efficiently and have a few muscle men in their number.
“These people … They’re sworn to destroy us. Forget peace for now. We have to show them we’re strong.
We have laws, we represent civilization. Some people say we can’t afford to be civilized. I’ve always resisted such people. But I don’t know who these maniacs are or where they come from… …Every civilization finds it necessary to negotiate compromises with its own values. I have made a decision.” – Golda Meir before ordering assassinations as retribution for Black September as quoted in Munich.
’All this blood comes back to us.’ – Robert. A member of the assassination squad.
Munich was definitely the movie to watch at the end of a day where I heard conspiracy theories without being able to respond. – ‘The govt is not telling us but the death toll from the attacks is over a 1000. CST was the site of the worst carnage. Public bol rahi hai ki wahan pe cheh sau se zyaada log mare hain. ‘
The evidence to support this claim… the shooting happened on platform 11 – 14 just before the departure time of 3 major outstation trains. Whoever heard of CST being less than crowded at 8:30 on a weekday night… The police never releases 100% of the death toll…. only ever state 50% of it.
Solutions suggested included bombing pakistan and targeted assassinations. And admiration for the rally (I heard more anger and intolerance on the soundbytes… but that is another thing entirely)
Its amazing how the most quotidian days can acquire a miraculous character in hindsight. The very chore that was cause for much grumbling ensures one is out of harms way. Otherwise it would have been one of those irritating days that melt into ’the past’ with no feature to distinguish it from others of its kind.
I’m still trying to get my head around how 20 ppl sail up to the Gateway of India (The Gateway of India?!!), armed to the teeth and no one notices? How big are these back-packs that they get to hold AK-47’s and grenades enough? Or I should say how big is the weaponry?
If the rest of the world were half as squeamish as i, it would be a peaceful world.
The recent set of ‘good’ movies (I cried through every one of them) led to standing in front of the cinema posters at the PVR longing for something that would give the lachrymals a bit of rest.
Priyanka Chopra stared back from two of them.
Noooooo…
Varanam Aayiram. A quick phone check reveals ‘it is sensitive movie – first half is good – and it is vAAranam Aayiram’.
Oh. And Noooooooooo.
And then there was dark poster in corner. Death Race. No clue what it is about but poster has grim looking muscle boy, cars, guns and bimbo type babe.
YES!
Opening sequence. Words flash across screen. ‘2012: America. The Economy is shattered and with record unemployment, levels of crime have risen. All prisons are now run by private companies for profit. And screen explodes with two tank like cars racing, ears pierced by the whine of engines. Man in a mask is behind the wheel and the bimbette is next to him saying ‘the napalms not coming on’. And the man says ‘drop the tombstone on my mark’. Voila – a one steel slab that is the back of the car is dropped and hits the other driver. He falls back, but comes after him soon enough with all guns blazing. Steel slab gone, the petrol tank is now exposed. The babe bails (flies up into the air in a parachute in a spectacular shot), car bursts into flames as it heads over the finish line.
Cut to scene where our hero (Jason Statham) has just lost his job. He escapes the riot that breaks out with $400 of severance pay in cash and makes his way home to loving wife who keeps his tattoed bod out of trouble and their new baby. He leaves off being mushy with her to check on the baby and comes back to find her killed and gets brained himself.
Wakes up in prison where the warden (Joan Allen) makes him an offer he can’t refuse. He wears Frankenstein’s mask and does one death race. If he makes it alive off the track, he walks free. Else his baby (who survived) gets to see the worst of the foster care system. Our man of course has to enter race now.
Race is in three parts. Fri / Sat and Sun – apparently the new replacement to football for amreeka.
Day 1, he realises his wife’s murderer is in prison and loses race.
Day 2 He sets out to kill said murderer. Ms. Allen in the meanwhile has decided to add surprise element and brings out a supertanker that kills all but two of the racers in any of the following ways – drilled, smashed or chopped. Our man and Tyrese make it to the finish line.
Day 3 sees our hero Jason (great shot at this point of his tattoed bod doing pull ups in cell) and Tyrese Gibson race each other. Surprise element is they do a deal and stage an escape since they know the warden isn’t gonna keep her word on letting the winner out.
End of movie cut to shot of jason (still looking delicious) holding baby while tyrese fixes car and complains about being forced onto the straight and narrow. Jason’s navigator (Natalie Martinez) walks in to join them in what will now presumably be a blissful life.
Final Verdict. No plot, no characterisation. Nothing to detract from the pulpiness. Full Joy if in mindless mode!
Some time ago I heard this one from a chappie who used to be in Market Research. He reported that in a survey for a feminine hygiene brand, they discovered men in the south used them. ‘Huh?’ He chortled, ’They stick it on their shirt collars. Great sweat absorption apparently’. Me dismissed this as attempt of chap to be funny. Heard it elsewhere. Dismissed as urban legend.
The past couple of days the air conditioning has been on the blitz in the office. Our little corner of it has turned into an oxygen deprived sauna. The Chennai man on the team has taken to sporting white tissue on the inside of his shirt collar. When asked, says ‘I sweat a lot.So….’ (The rest of us do laundry, but this clearly is a man out to save the waters and detergents, if not the papers)
It seems that urban legend may be true after all. HSBC … your follow up to the washingmachine-makes-fab-lassi ad is here!
The sixth photo from a sixth album… and its hoist with your own petard since photo is of you and the family.
