The Great Escape

There was a period in my life when alcohol loomed large during the evenings. On one such day I was returning from my Mansar factory to Nagpur back home, a distance of about 45 kms. At Kadbi chowk during maybe 9 pm I got stopped at a police naka bandi. The constable asked me to produce my license. I said I didn’t have it on me at that particular time! My license had been destroyed because it had become soaked in the rains and I was supposed to get a duplicate one issued! Then he asked for the papers of my two-wheeler – I said I didn’t have them on me at that particular time! I used to keep the original papers safe at home because of the apprehension of them too getting destroyed due to the rains or the elements.

 But these facts simply underlined the fact that I was in trouble! Now the constable asked me to park the vehicle by the road and accompany him to his boss, an inspector perhaps, who was sitting inside his parked jeep across the road. I had no other option but to comply. The constable presented me before the inspector by stating these stark facts – “Sahab ye bullet chala rahe hain, inke pas license nahi hai, papers bhi nahi hain aur ye daru pee kar hain”. (Sir, he is riding a bullet, he does not have a license nor any papers and he is drunk.)  Now the inspector turned around and scrutinized me from top to bottom. He also glanced towards my bullet which was parked across the street with my shabnam bag hanging on its handle bar. All this time I was simply trying to maintain an equanimous demeanor while at the same time, my mind was feverishly going over various scenarios that may present themselves in my fate in the immediate future! I was at my wit’s end. I thought I will react as and when some punishment is announced, not that I had many options!

Meanwhile the boss pointed towards my shabnam bag to the constable and said – “Inke thaili me dekho aur daru hogi.”(Check in his bag, there might be some more liquor.) Now the constable walked across the street and fumbled through my bag and exclaimed triumphantly – “haan sahab ek quarter hai!” waving the extracted nip of ‘Diplomat Kerela’ dramatically! And I was thinking that my goose is now completely cooked! Presently, the inspector turned to me and inspected me once again and inquired in that typically assertive and authoritative manner that comes naturally to all law enforcing officers – “Kahan ja rahe ho?” (Where are you going?) ”Ghar” (Home). I replied. OK! Go! He said to me and waved his constable to put the liquor bottle back in my bag!

Rather stunned after the entire experience, I rode back home ruminating about what the hell had just happened!? Then and again after all these years of hindsight I cannot exactly pinpoint what might have worked in my favour. Perhaps it was a mix result of various factors such as – the bullet that I was riding; policemen may tend to have a soft spot for this particular brand, the fact that I did not offend the officer’s self respect by being rude in any manner nor did I offend his sensibility by pleading…..? Or I was plainly lucky because the officer had been in an extravagantly generous mood at that particular point of time. Whatever it was, that is how life is and I have lived to tell this tale!