Fine surprises!

                                                               

We are zipping on the highway talking and laughing, only moments before a khaki clad officer emerges from the thick foliage around the bend commanding us to stop. The radar speed control officer’s appearance, and the shock of almost knocking him down, renders us speechless .And while a challan is being made, scores of SUVs race past gleefully, trust me, much so faster , skimming the hot tar surface, getting away only because we hadn’t.

”75 kmph? That’s all? Look, the others are easily hitting 125 kmph”, we squeaked our incredulous protests into the calm face of the officer. Pocketing the fine and handing our receipt he disappeared into the thick vegetation, ready to spring more khaki surprises from its green depths.

This love for greenery and surprises is not restricted to the highways, believe me: I always wore a helmet to the college that was just a 15 min ride from home. On reaching home after work, I realized I had forgotten a bundle of answer books in my cupboard that needed to be checked that weekend. I raced back on my Scooty sans helmet and retrieved the bundle, narrowly escaping being locked in for the weekend by the diligent attendant who was locking up rooms. Much relieved and in all probability humming a song, I emerged out of the college gates dreaming of a hot cup of tea and the company of my little girls as I turned into the main road. A khaki clad apparition emerged from behind the lovely bougainvillea bushes and waved me to a halt.

I pulled out my purse hastily, not wanting any of my students to see their teacher breaking rules. I began by arguing feebly that I had been wearing a helmet  a little while ago, but  never got to the part of my forgotten answer books as he impatiently wrote out my fine.

”Look, Sir. Look behind my ear. Can you see the infection? The doctor has advised me not to wear a helmet”. Another young woman in a similar predicament was willing the eyes of the officer to her ears. I watched with amusement as the officer silenced her with, “Now, no stories please. You women break the rules and then your heads; let’s see what your doctor advises then. Pay up or surrender your license”. The young woman with the supposed ear infection seemed to have neither and began calling up someone over the phone in a shrill voice. I raced home with my eyes glued forward, away from the trees bordering the sidewalks.

The boy in the Xerox shop should be blamed. Two pages to be photocopied and I park my blue Scooty with the Rajasthan registration plates outside his shop. It is late morning with hardly any traffic on this lane. “No problem Ma’am. Don’t worry; see my bike is also parked outside”. Five minutes later I emerge outside to find that my scooter has disappeared into thin air. New to Bangalore, I gaze at a passing pick- up van carrying bikes. There is a blue Scooty just like mine and when the van passes by, I notice that it also has a Rajasthan registration, what a coincidence, I think.

”No wait, it is mine!” I yell suddenly and run behind the van. The boys standing behind on the pick -up van watch me running .Posing like some strange charioteers they stand beside the confiscated vehicles looking unconcerned; the rice merchant idling in his shop and his neighbors, the garage mechanics sit back to enjoy the fun. Free entertainment when business is lean is always welcome. Finally the van screeches to a halt.

Of course the ,‘ I- parked- there- for- hardly- 5 min ‘ ,excuse to the officer seated in the front seat falls on deaf ears. And when I was Rs. 300 poorer, the ‘charioteer’ boys spring magically into life and hoist my poor Scooty down. I throw dark looks at the Xerox shop owner and his bike still standing peacefully outside his shop.

After a hard day’s work and worrying about dinner in all probability, a friend’s friend was carrying radishes in her helmet slung over the handlebar. The officer at the signal was so surprised and amused that he let her off with a warning saying that she would make a pretty picture for the local newspaper. The red faced lady was a school teacher and dreaded the thought of the laughs her pupils and colleagues would have seeing her thus in the morning papers. She vowed to secure the helmet on her head in future. And the chuckling officer had his finest ‘fine less’ surprise of the day.