Don't. Just Don't.

Next time someone tries to stamp their authority (in general, not necessarily on me), I'm certainly going to tell them this little true story.

25th September was the 7th day of Ganesh Chaturti (Ganpati festival). It was a Tuesday. I need to give you some back ground on this story so you can see how it crumbles perfectly along at the end.

I came back to Bombay on Sunday from Pune with my niece (who is 25 and hates being called my niece) and her friend. We bought a bottle of water along the way and when we reached Bombay, the girls just left this bottle in the pocket of the seat cover behind my (the driver) seat. I did not know this. Monday was an interesting day 'cause there were a whole load of cops outside the building who weren't particularly happy about people leaving or entering the area. I'm not sure why and I'd rather not say what I heard was the problem. So I just worked from home, while my car baked in the (newly returned) Bombay heat.

Tuesday morning on my way to work I dropped off my shirts at the laundry and told the chap I'd pick it up in the evening. When I got to office, I realised it was the 7th day of Ganpati and there would be a visarjan (immersion) happening in the evening. Since, I stay right opposite the Charkop Lake in Kandivali, Bombay, that meant I needed to leave office by about 5:30pm to make sure I don't get stuck in traffic and more so in a mob of people dancing on the road as if they were possessed by the spirit of Micheal Jackson. Hundreds of people would soon descend right outside my building to immerse the Ganesh idols. So I left office and reached home by about 6:00pm and on my way, I stopped over at the laundry. The chap wasn't expecting me back so early, so he asked me to come back later. I parked the car around the corner of my apartment complex and got home to finish of some work. Now, the car I have is a K10 Alto (not the fancy type, but does the job really well), and it has a security alarm that works overtime. It goes off even when a dog so much takes a piss next to it. I'm not exaggerating, and you can even put it to test if you want. And it's effing LOUD!

I decided to walk across to the laundry at about 8:45pm (before Masterchef Australia Season 4 starts) to pick up my shirt. I felt the urge to pee by the time I started making the walk, but I was too lazy to go back up 4 floors and then walk back again. It was going to take 5 minutes anyway, or so I thought. This is where the story starts. On my way back, from about 10 meters away, I could see the watchman talking to a bunch of cops. From where I could see, two of them were like constables (with sticks) and one of them was a sub-inspector (he had a gun and I also know how the ranks work by looking at the "stars" on their shoulders). The watchman pointed at me, as soon as he saw me arrive at the scene. "WTF", was my first reaction. By this time I could feel the pee at the "tip". This is how the conversation with the cops went. As promised, I'm going to write it in Hindi, but will also translate since I already have a request for this to be in English.

Sub Inspector - Woh lal gadi tumhara hai kya? (Is that red vehicle yours?)
Me - Haan Sahib. Kyon? (Yes sir. Why?)
Sub Inspector - Bahut cheeeen cheeeen karti hai tumhari gadi (Your car does a lot of "cheeen cheeen")
*Spits tobacco to his left and very close to my slipper clad feet
Constable 1 - CHALAAA, gadi ka checking karne ka hai (COME ON, we need to check the car)
Me (almost trying to hold "it" between my legs) - Sahib, main shirt ghar pe dal ke aata hoon, mere ko toilet bhi jane ka hai (Sir, I'll leave the shirt at home and I also need to go to the toilet)
Sub Inspector - Chal, sirf do minute ka kaam hai (Let's go, it'll take 2 minutes)

So we walk toward my car about 20 meters away. Me with ironed shirts in one hand and my "thing" almost in the other.

Constable 1 - Gadi ko kholo (open the car)
**bee beep

Constable 1 and 2 start invading my car. Constable 2 finds the bottle of water in the seat pocket and hands it over to the Sub Inspector, who just opens it, without even asking me, and takes a big drink (obviously proving he's the BOSS). At this time, I'm still busy peeking into the car to see if the find anything weird and am subconsciously grabbing onto my crotch.

Sub Inspector - Aaaye, yeh paani garam kyon hai (Oi, why is this water warm)
Me (still holding my crotch) - Kaun sa paani sahib? (What water sir?)

He then looks at the bottle of water and looks down at my hand on my crotch and spits the water out. The look on his face was priceless!!

The watchman who came along with us, laughed so hard, that he had to run back into the building to avoid any trouble. The 2 constables laughed hard as well. The Sub Inspector slammed the bottle to the ground and spat the remaining water out and spat some more after that and wiped his lips at least 5 times on his shirt sleeve. Then he asked me very politely to go home.

I don't think he'll ever be trying to drink water of unknown people's cars. Actually I'm pretty sure.

P.S. I walked to the gate, almost pissing my pants (not out of fear, but out of the need to) and my watchman is huddled up in this corner laughing his ass off. He looked at me for a moment, and then laughed so hard that he let out a fart. Well, I think that was true laughter.

The detective.

I'm good at it. Really fucking good.

I've quit my job and my boss refused to accept my resignation, except that I know the law doesn't allow him to do that when I'm meeting the terms of my contract. So, because he knows that I know, he's helpless. It started a little difficult, yes, but I put my skills to it. The company fucked me over BIG TIME when I joined them and now they don't have a prayer. All I did was state the facts, with some research inference. But this is not the first time. It brought up a memory that I believe I should be proud of.

I was in the 8th grade. Circa 1995-96. I used to be in our school's RSP (road safety patrol) and a whole other ton of things (choir, boxing, chess, badminton, wasn't I a hot all rounder, etc.). We had a big week coming up and had safety drills practice everyday. We had to wear our entire kit the whole day (usually), which included a lanyard, beret, and shoulder RSP things that made us feel very proud. And it really went well with Bishop's maroon and yellow theme. We were the heroes those days.

This is where our story begins.

I would usually take off my kit after RSP "practice" at 7am before going for choir practice at 8am and keep it in my school bag. Everyone in RSP, choir and my class (8 B) knew that. A day before our big week, my entire stuff goes missing from my bag. I was shaken, cause I know mum wouldn't buy me a kit overnight. She would expect me to" find out" first as to what happened. I walked up to our class teacher in the staff room and told her my story. She is far from my being anyone that made a difference in life. The first question she asked of a 13 year old me was, "are you sure you wore the kit today"? I said,"yes ma'am, everybody saw me wear it". So, she called in a few people and asked them the question again. We had about 60 people in RSP and since our school's dress code was maroon and white, nobody remembered if I had the kit on that day. I was done.

I decided to investigate the matter. I made a list of my suspects.

First, the person that knew I had a kit that day. Second, it could only be someone from choir and RSP since they knew my routine. Third, it had to be someone that knew where my seat in class was so they could steal it. Last, it couldn't be someone from choir cause they would have been with me. 6 people were in RSP, only me in choir as well. That left 5 suspects in the class. 4 of them had kits all along and one had his parents buy him a kit for the big day, just the previous evening, which he would wear only the next day. His name was Jasdeep. Prime suspect. All I had to do was prove what he had done before the evening.

Jasdeep had a cocky, over smart younger brother in the 5th grade. The boy thought he was cooler than a blast freezer. He was my first target. I went up to his class and generally asked him if his parents were coming for the big day. He said, that his parents are not interested in stuff like RSP. Score. Which meant his parents wouldn't even see their son dressed in a kit which they "bought". Then I asked, if he'd seen his brother on practice, to which he said he had and that his brother was given a "new kit" for being the "best cadet" a day before, presentation to happen that afternoon. Brilliant. I asked him who did the presentation. He said, "The Leader". Not good. As it turns out, "The Leader" is a great friend of Jasdeep and he will obviously think something is wrong if I ask him a question. Time to turn the cocky, over smart kid on himself and his brother.

So, I asked him, if he had ever met "The Leader". The boy said he hadn't and I offered him a great chance to meet, shake hands and talk to him because I could arrange for the boy to meet what was a "good friend". He saw the opportunity in it and came with me. I told him when he meets "The Leader", he must thank him for gifting his brother the kit. The Leader, with an IQ of a chair, was the second target for reasons only I will ever know. They shook hands. The first thing the little smart ass says is, "Can I also get a kit"?. To which the dumb fuck leader replies, "What kit". The boy says, "The one you gave my brother yesterday. The victim of my superior conspiracy goes, "I didn't give Jasdeep the kit. You're parents bought it for him". Suddenly they realise I'm standing there with a smile on my face with another friend I asked to come along to witness "my theory".

Half an hour later, we have the class teacher walk in and deliver the verdict in front of 60 boys. She asked the class to clap for me, because I'd done all that without making a noise. Jasdeep cried as he returned my kit and he was obviously sorry. My mum never found out.

P.S. On the big day, Jasdeep had a brand new kit and his parents were in the stands. After the entire event, he took my hand and said his parents wanted to meet me. They gave me a foot long steel ruler, an big scented eraser and a Hero fountain pen in a packet that had "Sorry" written on it. Jasdeep told me the next day that was the only reason his parents came to see him. We're still friends.

This is a true story.