another pakka idiotic day

Gyani- the honest, 'Deshmukh' fearing, cop

there are some rare 'sightings' in India.
like tigers in our forests... rare finds!
you would also rarely find a street with no honking, a street without street dogs, a complete row of working street lamps, a street with NO encroachment, a street with people only walking on the footpath, a street crossing where drivers dont overshoot the stop line, a street with a blatantly visible Zebra crossing...

and to my agonies when i drove in to one, carelessly thinking they dont exist here... i face a cop who for once didnt ask for 'chai paani' after he caught me an inch in to the zebra crossing.
zebra crossing? whats that? and where is it... in this city? you d ask...
i too missed it... thinking there isnt one. but surprise surprise there was! i shall post a picture of it soon, so the next time you drive around that part, you d keep yourself in check before you see Mr Gyanendra Gaganrao Umbalkar, complete in speedos and chewing pan and tirchi topi, coming out of his hiding under a tree in split second and running towards you at full speed.
Gyani, as by now i d like to call him, pyar se, extended his hand immediately inside the window and i placed a 100 rupee Gandhi ji on his palms, he quickly removed his hand out, as if it were an electric beam, and said 'woh nai, license? ' ah... i thought, is he honest?

i said why license and chalan and all. it will all boil down to this anyways, i am sorry about jumping the line, lets cut straight to the chase. take it and leave me.
he said 'tum paisa khilane ka baat karta hai, mai complain kar doonga, tumhara jaisa log ke wajah se yeh duniya aisa ho gayela hai'!!!
what??? excuse me???
i parked aside, looking left and right not wanting to be seen by anybody familiar in this dis comfortable scenario and with Gyani almost shadowing me. i showed him my license and he noticed 15 flaws in it...
that it... is not a Mumbai license, that it doesnt look original, that the photograph doesnt seem to be mine and that the date on it is unclear etc etc
he removed his 'book' from underneath his armpit and started writing something... i held his hand and pleaded and requested and prayed to him. i dont want to go to the court, that i have someone in the hospital right now i need to attend to, that i am a journalist and he should not mess with me, that i am sorry and a first time violator(to which he replied 'apun ko kaisa maloom padenga? woh kya tumhara muh me likha hai kya???) that i shall never do it again and etc etc
but none cut any ice with Gyani...
in the end, tired and helpless, i said i ll need to make a phone call and i started hitting random numbers on the phone. 'kis ko phone lagata hai?'
mere dost ko, i said.
Dost kya karega tumhara? asked.
Dost Deshmukh saab ka ladka hai...
'Kaun Deshmukh?' Slowly taking his hand off the book.
i replied 'Deshmukh?? Deshmukh saab ko nahi jaante kya???'
He tossed the book aside. Acha tum Deshmukh saab ka dost hai? Paila kyon nahi bola?
I said 'haan , tho kya? rehne do... aap challaan kato. mai unse baat karloonga', a little chip on my shoulder now.
Nahi nahi... tum jao. no problem!
he handed me the license back... tore the page he was writing in off and placed his hands on my shoulders and gradually pushed me towards the car... also at the same time trying to strike a wasted conversation like 'where do you stay' and 'where are you from' etc etc.
i dont know what saved me. Whether it was the plethora of 'Deshmukh's found in everywhere in this part of the world or whether he thought i was connected to Vilas Rao Deshmukh, who was then the CM of the state, or may be my Lucky stars - there actually is a Deshmukh in the traffic dept. who would be his boss and would have ripped him apart and suspended him for making such an unreasonable fine on a poor innocent simple soul.
i had decided to drop the name 'Deshmukh' now on to put me out of all my miserable run ins with authorities.
i can now live and drive happily ever after and Gyanendra Gaganrao Umbalkar can forever park himself under the tree, retrospecting and wondering about the hundreds of subsequent traffic rule violating 'relatives' of Mr Deshmukh he may encountered, then on.
Well, he could, as well have accepted the 100, I handed out to him, before i dropped the dreaded name.

pakka idiotic day

pakka idiot... thats me.
am typical.
fickle, grumpy, grousing always against the surroundings. the roads, the rains, the heat, the law, the governance, the police, the traffic, the pollution, the dirt, the slums, the poverty, the taxation, the middle class, the inflation, the stocks, our country, our security, our culture, our education, our doctors, our rivers, our cricket team, our films, our heroines, our fashion, our forests, everything under the Indian sun is meant to be ripped apart, by pakka idiot. And to be honest and let you all in to a little secret, i have never voted! in fact i dont even have a voter ID. But who cares, i am one lost prick in a 100 million or a few more.
anyways i still live, aint i? and thats why they call me, like you might have called so many of them in your life- 'pakka idiot' hai!
so thats why this blog.
when am tired of mailing, tired of internet chatting, tired of talking, tired of reading, tired of googling, tired of youtube, tired of driving, tired of TV, tired of unlimited downloading, tired of gaming, tired of everyting... i have decided to post here.
this is going to be a crib station like no other.
its the junk yard of the agitated, irritated, frustrated.
when there are so many questions being born, who the hell has the time to unearth answers?
so i shall post my questions here... and you and me can go elsewhere for the answers... typical of all pakka idiot Indians, i say...
you can call it pessimism and regressive and negative.
'there is light at the end of the tunnel' some would argue... yes, but depends on which end you run bro... i definitely am running towards the wrong and longer end... anyways, who cares?
to whine, is our national passtime, a passion, a good sign of our patriotism.
so if you want to whine in... join in.
long after we are dead, and when this url is inscribed on my grave. A generation might find it, retrieve it and present it amongst themselves, as evidence of neo- nomadic-under-developed life, of the 21st century. 'THEY HAD NOTHING!' they would say, 'poor under privledged fellows'!
and want to create that evidence here...bring out the daggers.
Soon... pakka idiot's escapade 'Rare Sighting in Urban India- The "honest" traffic cop'.