By the time I'd left the office, it was dark, and I was tired. Another inconvenient Tuk Tuk ride followed, and I was at Sikandarpur Metro station. That is when another tiring incident took place.
As I was standing along the platform balcony, watching the Gurgaon skyline and my office buildings visible in the distance, a security guard accosted me - these are CISF jawans (NCOs) on duty protecting this valuable commuter service, in the lingering threat of female emancipation and terrorism. I turned around to find three of them surrounding me. To lend from Ignatius Reilly, “Like a bitch in heat, I seem to attract a coterie of policemen and sanitation officials. ”
It seemed casual. I should've known that a facepalm moment was in the coming.
"आप काफी देर से खड़े हो..."
"हाँ, तो?"
"ट्रेन भी छोड़ दी अपपने, दो तीन..."
"तीन?"
"हाँ, मैं देख रहा था "
[in reality, i only skipped one train, which too wasnt bound for my destination, which I tried to clarify]
"एक ही ट्रेन छोड़ी है, Sir, वो भी सुल्तानपुर वाली "
"जो भी है, आप साइड से हट जाइये "
[what they were upto was herding bystanders towards the platform, at their personal whim, in the name of security]
"क्यों? मैंने क्या किया?"
At my protest, all three of them jawansgrouped ganged up, and asked me to move away, as if their job was making collective strategies to abuse civilians and countering accountability. I asked them for names, but they were more insistent on bossing around. It was annoying, and annoyance is easy to read from my face - always look for that expression of 'ludicrous' on my face and a narrowing of eye slits and a confusion in tone (as a civil society in the urban world is one place I can't do with irrational argumentation - the truckers & hoteliers & dhaba owners & taxiwallahs & prostitutes & peddlers & pimps & the odd traveler, are few of those I've managed in the Himalayan outbacks - but never carry that expectation in the city).
Ultimately one nudged me from the right. It felt demeaning, and I demanded his name, but neither did he tell it, nor could I read his identity from his badge that his bulletproof vest shielded alongside his life. Some folks must have taken notice - of this young rebel, who stood not upto a mere tank which was lacking short range capability, but 3 Indian jawans which were getting as absurd as Monty Python Flying Circus (except that their manifestation in the real world is virally destructive) - coz after the next coupla' minutes of explosive confrontation when I looked around, there was a crowd around us, albeit one which dispersed as quickly on arrival of the next train (which demonstrates the great apathy Dilliwalas are known for).
Meanwhile, those 2 minutes... the guy to my left - the original accoster but the most understanding of them all and coincidentally the youngest, too - then called for a break in their BS, and 'informed' me about some girl's suicide from Metro stn a coupla' days back. Now this news I neither had knowledge of, nor I see why I should, since it holds no relevance into our ongoing conversation of why I shouldn't be standing at some particular public spot. Its no secret that someone committing a suicide is as random as it gets (had it been that girls wearing a chrome turban on their heads and a silken florescent scarf around their waists with a folded paper in one hand and a male iguana in another are jumping off gray-colored buildings fitted with marble tiles, then I could've understood targeting certain people with chrome turbans or silk flourescent scarves or male iguanas).
He also explained me a "profiling" process they use to choose their suspects. Bloody Morgan Freeman wannabes. I could reason me being taken for a suicide "suspect" (again its a random evaluation), but not why they had continued to harass me after having cleared their doubts. Suspects are prone to questioning, not harassment and ego exercises.
I was casual till this point, border line irritated, and arguing rationally against a rising barrage of nonsense. That is when the center jawan tried to use force against reason, grabbing me by the throat. I immediately pulled myself out from his grip, and began to billow in anger - it wasn't seething in anger types, but more of a disappointed anger ("why did I even start politely with these guys?" types). I demanded his (the middle guy) name, but again thanks to his bulletproof vest... But I still hadn't come to threatening them with a demotion, or Court Marshall, or an arrest for assaulting an officer (I was slowly being goaded into that), but with a more vehement, primal plea to respect the civilians who they can't push around like 'भेड़ बकरी'. There was also a line about me having spent enough time with Army, CISF, BRO, etc to know mutual respect. One of the bystanders also came forward to defuse the situation, calling me to calm down and the jawans to let peace be.
Dunno which of the features of the post-throat-choke argument it was, but the jawans soon relented, and didn't seem like they were gonna assault me. The left guy, again, was the most conversant (notice that the 'argument' had toned down into a 'conversation' now). We bullshitted a few lines - me against having to allay their deep fear of suicidal youth jumping from all metro stations [to think of it, I should've reasoned with, "सर, हाथ में ऑफिस का काम लेकर कौन ऊपर जाना चाहता है?] - which might've won me a round on dark comedy] - until the next train arrived.
As I parted their circle, they asked me my name, which I arrogantly refused to tell, starting at them again with an intimidating "क्यों?" and ready to face another round of bullying, but luckily civility seemed to have won, and it was the jawans who first game me their names, in response to which I went "Prashant, Deepak, Prabhat Bhaiyya,..." and shared my name. I then turned and shuffled into the train. As I left - and so did they alongside - the same guy who informally adopted the role of a PR Officer and saved CISF some grace - waved me, and I waved him back.
Let us see if we ever cross paths again, and how we reason.
"तू कूदेगा क्या?" ("are you gonna jump?")
"क्यों, आप पैसा दे रहे हो?" ("why, are you paying me for it?")
"दूंगा तो फिर कूद जायेगा क्या?" ("if given, would you jump?")
"कूद तो जाऊँगा, मगर पैराशूट के साथ" ("i could, but with a parachute")
[WTF expression on the jawan's face - priceless]
As I was standing along the platform balcony, watching the Gurgaon skyline and my office buildings visible in the distance, a security guard accosted me - these are CISF jawans (NCOs) on duty protecting this valuable commuter service, in the lingering threat of female emancipation and terrorism. I turned around to find three of them surrounding me. To lend from Ignatius Reilly, “Like a bitch in heat, I seem to attract a coterie of policemen and sanitation officials. ”
It seemed casual. I should've known that a facepalm moment was in the coming.
"आप काफी देर से खड़े हो..."
"हाँ, तो?"
"ट्रेन भी छोड़ दी अपपने, दो तीन..."
"तीन?"
"हाँ, मैं देख रहा था "
[in reality, i only skipped one train, which too wasnt bound for my destination, which I tried to clarify]
"एक ही ट्रेन छोड़ी है, Sir, वो भी सुल्तानपुर वाली "
"जो भी है, आप साइड से हट जाइये "
[what they were upto was herding bystanders towards the platform, at their personal whim, in the name of security]
"क्यों? मैंने क्या किया?"
At my protest, all three of them jawans
Ultimately one nudged me from the right. It felt demeaning, and I demanded his name, but neither did he tell it, nor could I read his identity from his badge that his bulletproof vest shielded alongside his life. Some folks must have taken notice - of this young rebel, who stood not upto a mere tank which was lacking short range capability, but 3 Indian jawans which were getting as absurd as Monty Python Flying Circus (except that their manifestation in the real world is virally destructive) - coz after the next coupla' minutes of explosive confrontation when I looked around, there was a crowd around us, albeit one which dispersed as quickly on arrival of the next train (which demonstrates the great apathy Dilliwalas are known for).
Meanwhile, those 2 minutes... the guy to my left - the original accoster but the most understanding of them all and coincidentally the youngest, too - then called for a break in their BS, and 'informed' me about some girl's suicide from Metro stn a coupla' days back. Now this news I neither had knowledge of, nor I see why I should, since it holds no relevance into our ongoing conversation of why I shouldn't be standing at some particular public spot. Its no secret that someone committing a suicide is as random as it gets (had it been that girls wearing a chrome turban on their heads and a silken florescent scarf around their waists with a folded paper in one hand and a male iguana in another are jumping off gray-colored buildings fitted with marble tiles, then I could've understood targeting certain people with chrome turbans or silk flourescent scarves or male iguanas).
He also explained me a "profiling" process they use to choose their suspects. Bloody Morgan Freeman wannabes. I could reason me being taken for a suicide "suspect" (again its a random evaluation), but not why they had continued to harass me after having cleared their doubts. Suspects are prone to questioning, not harassment and ego exercises.
I was casual till this point, border line irritated, and arguing rationally against a rising barrage of nonsense. That is when the center jawan tried to use force against reason, grabbing me by the throat. I immediately pulled myself out from his grip, and began to billow in anger - it wasn't seething in anger types, but more of a disappointed anger ("why did I even start politely with these guys?" types). I demanded his (the middle guy) name, but again thanks to his bulletproof vest... But I still hadn't come to threatening them with a demotion, or Court Marshall, or an arrest for assaulting an officer (I was slowly being goaded into that), but with a more vehement, primal plea to respect the civilians who they can't push around like 'भेड़ बकरी'. There was also a line about me having spent enough time with Army, CISF, BRO, etc to know mutual respect. One of the bystanders also came forward to defuse the situation, calling me to calm down and the jawans to let peace be.
Dunno which of the features of the post-throat-choke argument it was, but the jawans soon relented, and didn't seem like they were gonna assault me. The left guy, again, was the most conversant (notice that the 'argument' had toned down into a 'conversation' now). We bullshitted a few lines - me against having to allay their deep fear of suicidal youth jumping from all metro stations [to think of it, I should've reasoned with, "सर, हाथ में ऑफिस का काम लेकर कौन ऊपर जाना चाहता है?] - which might've won me a round on dark comedy] - until the next train arrived.
As I parted their circle, they asked me my name, which I arrogantly refused to tell, starting at them again with an intimidating "क्यों?" and ready to face another round of bullying, but luckily civility seemed to have won, and it was the jawans who first game me their names, in response to which I went "Prashant, Deepak, Prabhat Bhaiyya,..." and shared my name. I then turned and shuffled into the train. As I left - and so did they alongside - the same guy who informally adopted the role of a PR Officer and saved CISF some grace - waved me, and I waved him back.
Let us see if we ever cross paths again, and how we reason.
"तू कूदेगा क्या?" ("are you gonna jump?")
"क्यों, आप पैसा दे रहे हो?" ("why, are you paying me for it?")
"दूंगा तो फिर कूद जायेगा क्या?" ("if given, would you jump?")
"कूद तो जाऊँगा, मगर पैराशूट के साथ" ("i could, but with a parachute")
[WTF expression on the jawan's face - priceless]
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