I had a couple of occasions recently where I had to interact with the BMC guys and the Police...and that too within days of each other....dreadful, right?? I also had imagined the same. The experience was however a bit different, it was almost humane!!
The guy at the BMC office who was to give me my marriage certificate would speak such blasphemous language that I can never even think. And he would do that only while talking to me. Before you think otherwise, he was venting out his frustration in front of me. All of the three times that I went to meet him for some work , he would make it a point to chat with me for at least 15 minutes, abusing the kind of people he had to work with. I think he had found a listener in me, cos I would patiently hear him out and to my own surprise, offer him consolation. He enlightened me to some very basic things that I had conveniently forgotten or had taken for granted.
Among his many pearls of wisdom the one that struck me the most was the comment that, "BMC aapki maa jaisi hai, aapko khana deti hai apka kachra uthati hai, aur ghar ko saf rakhti hai." Such simple words, such profanity. We would seldom see the BMC, we always curse, in this light. That made me think if we ever see our mom's in this light. There are so many things already said on this topic that it sounds cliched to even mention it. Will let it rest!!
At the police station, I had the misfortune of standing outside the interrogation room for almost an hour. The sounds coming from inside were not very different from those coming from my bathroom when my maid washes clothes. I was wondering what role, if any, did the Police play in the intricate and delicate family called the "Society"?. My question was answered soon enough. Our driver was asked to sit in the room and faint-hearted as he is , he broke down in tears, in spite of being honest. Dad tried to appease the inspector to let him go, but he wouldn't budge. The police has to its work. They eventually let my driver go without even asking him anything. I was wondering why, when it struck me that the Police was like the Father figure in the family. The attributes match so well. Both are strict, and a fine judge of character - one look at you and the crime you have done is automatically known to them, both maintain a modicum of fear in your heart, lest you start wandering off haywire. A sixth sense that tells them whether you are lying or not. And the most important of all, the feeling of protection and security that comes to you after you are assured they are there for you.
I still curse the police and BMC sometimes, seeing their high handedness and lethargy / callousness but, do remember that, for a few bad people, I should not curse them all. After all, there are few good ones too, I had the fortune of meeting when I actually needed them.
