Sure, I bribe. But no cash. Do you take card?
Its been a long while since I last ventured on to this page. Frankly, I didnt think anybody reads this with any regularity. However, recently, a couple of friends nudged me out of blog-atrophy, so I guess a couple of people do read this.
Good. Because I have a couple of questions for those people.
Whats the minimum bribe one can slip into a traffic cop's hand if one is not going to be paying the legal fine for an offense committed? I ask for the least possible amount which doesnt leave a dent in the driver's pocket and yet ensures a hassle-free drive through. Least possible amount that will satisfy the cop-on-a-personal-fund-raising-mission.
Since it was the May Day holiday, I ventured out grocery shopping expecting the roads to be less congested. (For those over-inquisitive minds who wish to know, yes, I meticulously plan my driving to coincide only with ungodly hours and unfrequented side roads.) And so they were. Just that I hadn't factored in the traffic police. Their awaiting vehicles occupied practically every harmless-looking turn on the road from home to departmental store. And like the unsuspecting prey, I drove straight into the hunter's snare. Or into a pair of waving arms signaling me from 50 mts ahead to pull over.
Oh no no! Just before I had driven out, I had eyed the papers in the carrier and alerted myself that the emission certificate may have expired. Trust my luck, of all the days to be pulled over by a cop, it was today. Sometimes I think my life operates with some compounded variation of Murphy's Law. Or if I were one of those superpower 'special people' on Heroes, my power would be to will myself into the worst possible scrapes.
Anyway, cop waving frantically, I braked beside him with the most innocent, incredulous look I could summon.
"Yes, Sir?"
What was I thinking? That naivete would work? He hadnt stopped me to discuss the weather, had he.
"Papers, madam."
I dutifully handed him the set. It didnt take him a moment to figure out what was missing.
"Emission maadlilwaa?"
Think, M, think. I did have a vague memory that I had asked BIL to do me a favor and get the emission test done. I also have a vague memory that if the test has been done, the certificate is somewhere safely ensconced in the dark innards of my desk drawer. OK, thats the problem with vague memories. They might as well be conjured. So, the test might not have been done. And there was no emission certificate.
Whatever, here was Coppy, looking dapper in his Akshay Singh-is-King Kumar sunglasses, leaning stylishly against the handlebar, waiting for my answer.
"Maadi-de," I struggled with my rustic Kannada. "But.."I riffled amongst the papers some more.
"Then show me, Madam," he said. I swear he wore a sly smile.
"Sure, I would, if only I had it with me." What the hell, I was just buying time.
"Can I see your license?"
Not that flourishing my license would make the emission certificate to appear magically, but I handed that over anyway. He removed the scintillating shades and looked closely.
"Is this yours?" I couldnt believe the man was going to get into that round of interogation now. Do they do that generally? Or was I being taken for a (Hoysala) ride?
"Of course, its my license," I snapped. "Thats me." I shouldnt even have bothered with the defense. "Its an old photo. I look different."
"Dont get angry, madam. You look better."
OK, mister. You might consider yourself the heir-apparent of the last reigning Southie superstar (now that Rajnikanth has phased into animation and Chiranjeevi keeps busy with Praja Rajyam), and you mercifully lack the handlebar moustache and the policeman's potbelly, but dont you dare give me the flirt-treatment now. Dude, its 1 in the afternoon and I have grocery on my mind.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"You have to pay the fine. Three hundred ruppees."
I looked into my wallet. A hundred and a few tenners. "But I should have the money to pay up, na."
He sized me up and sneaked a peek into the open wallet.
"What do you do?"
"What? Why?"
Why indeed? If I was IPL newbie Shilpa Shetty, would he now book me for lying about my declarable assets in addition to traffic offence? Or if I was Chumki Kumari from Jhumritalaiyya seeking employment in the big city, would he let me go scot free?
"Are you a student?" he asked.
This is the bane of my existence. No one takes me seriously.
"No, I work."
"Are you sure?"
OK, now I was ready to cut short his existence.
"Listen, Sir, I can spare Rs 150 now. Or do you take card?"
He deftly flicked the notes from my extended hand before I could clarify Mastercard or Visa. He had moved on to the next vehicle before I switch-started my engine.
After I rode away, I wondered if offering Rs 150 was too much. Would Rs 100 have sufficed? Or even Rs 50? I accept, this is a bribe, not the right'est' or legal'est' thing to do. But we all know what's going on here. And since I am not getting a receipt and the money is not going to the govt, how do I keep it minimal?
When my luck sours, it usually curdles... all the way into rancid cheese. On my way back from the grocery store, I ran into another set of cops on the other side of the road. And lo behold, a more typical specimen - rolypoly and moustachioed - waves me to the side.
"Oh, no, no," I blurted even as he walked within earshot. "I already paid you guys."
"What are you saying, madam?"
"Rs 150, to that cop-with-flashy-gogs near the KR Puram station."
"Show me the receipt."
"No receipt. He pocketed it."
"Madam, it is illegal to ..."
"Illegal-shillegal! Look, I dont have any more money on me today."
I should have added 'do you take card'. That seemed to do the trick.
He looked at me as one would assess a deranged lunatic. A huge truck had been pulled up by his colleague and that diverted his attention. In the momentary lull, I drove away, checking in the rearview mirror if he was planning to give chase. Thankfully, he wasnt.
That bings me to my second question. What does one do if you are caught a second time round for the same traffic offence that you bribed your way out of?
Much thinking and I have only one solution. Don't go out on May Day. The traffic police is working extra hard.
Good. Because I have a couple of questions for those people.
Whats the minimum bribe one can slip into a traffic cop's hand if one is not going to be paying the legal fine for an offense committed? I ask for the least possible amount which doesnt leave a dent in the driver's pocket and yet ensures a hassle-free drive through. Least possible amount that will satisfy the cop-on-a-personal-fund-raising-mission.
Since it was the May Day holiday, I ventured out grocery shopping expecting the roads to be less congested. (For those over-inquisitive minds who wish to know, yes, I meticulously plan my driving to coincide only with ungodly hours and unfrequented side roads.) And so they were. Just that I hadn't factored in the traffic police. Their awaiting vehicles occupied practically every harmless-looking turn on the road from home to departmental store. And like the unsuspecting prey, I drove straight into the hunter's snare. Or into a pair of waving arms signaling me from 50 mts ahead to pull over.
Oh no no! Just before I had driven out, I had eyed the papers in the carrier and alerted myself that the emission certificate may have expired. Trust my luck, of all the days to be pulled over by a cop, it was today. Sometimes I think my life operates with some compounded variation of Murphy's Law. Or if I were one of those superpower 'special people' on Heroes, my power would be to will myself into the worst possible scrapes.
Anyway, cop waving frantically, I braked beside him with the most innocent, incredulous look I could summon.
"Yes, Sir?"
What was I thinking? That naivete would work? He hadnt stopped me to discuss the weather, had he.
"Papers, madam."
I dutifully handed him the set. It didnt take him a moment to figure out what was missing.
"Emission maadlilwaa?"
Think, M, think. I did have a vague memory that I had asked BIL to do me a favor and get the emission test done. I also have a vague memory that if the test has been done, the certificate is somewhere safely ensconced in the dark innards of my desk drawer. OK, thats the problem with vague memories. They might as well be conjured. So, the test might not have been done. And there was no emission certificate.
Whatever, here was Coppy, looking dapper in his Akshay Singh-is-King Kumar sunglasses, leaning stylishly against the handlebar, waiting for my answer.
"Maadi-de," I struggled with my rustic Kannada. "But.."I riffled amongst the papers some more.
"Then show me, Madam," he said. I swear he wore a sly smile.
"Sure, I would, if only I had it with me." What the hell, I was just buying time.
"Can I see your license?"
Not that flourishing my license would make the emission certificate to appear magically, but I handed that over anyway. He removed the scintillating shades and looked closely.
"Is this yours?" I couldnt believe the man was going to get into that round of interogation now. Do they do that generally? Or was I being taken for a (Hoysala) ride?
"Of course, its my license," I snapped. "Thats me." I shouldnt even have bothered with the defense. "Its an old photo. I look different."
"Dont get angry, madam. You look better."
OK, mister. You might consider yourself the heir-apparent of the last reigning Southie superstar (now that Rajnikanth has phased into animation and Chiranjeevi keeps busy with Praja Rajyam), and you mercifully lack the handlebar moustache and the policeman's potbelly, but dont you dare give me the flirt-treatment now. Dude, its 1 in the afternoon and I have grocery on my mind.
"So what do you want me to do?"
"You have to pay the fine. Three hundred ruppees."
I looked into my wallet. A hundred and a few tenners. "But I should have the money to pay up, na."
He sized me up and sneaked a peek into the open wallet.
"What do you do?"
"What? Why?"
Why indeed? If I was IPL newbie Shilpa Shetty, would he now book me for lying about my declarable assets in addition to traffic offence? Or if I was Chumki Kumari from Jhumritalaiyya seeking employment in the big city, would he let me go scot free?
"Are you a student?" he asked.
This is the bane of my existence. No one takes me seriously.
"No, I work."
"Are you sure?"
OK, now I was ready to cut short his existence.
"Listen, Sir, I can spare Rs 150 now. Or do you take card?"
He deftly flicked the notes from my extended hand before I could clarify Mastercard or Visa. He had moved on to the next vehicle before I switch-started my engine.
After I rode away, I wondered if offering Rs 150 was too much. Would Rs 100 have sufficed? Or even Rs 50? I accept, this is a bribe, not the right'est' or legal'est' thing to do. But we all know what's going on here. And since I am not getting a receipt and the money is not going to the govt, how do I keep it minimal?
When my luck sours, it usually curdles... all the way into rancid cheese. On my way back from the grocery store, I ran into another set of cops on the other side of the road. And lo behold, a more typical specimen - rolypoly and moustachioed - waves me to the side.
"Oh, no, no," I blurted even as he walked within earshot. "I already paid you guys."
"What are you saying, madam?"
"Rs 150, to that cop-with-flashy-gogs near the KR Puram station."
"Show me the receipt."
"No receipt. He pocketed it."
"Madam, it is illegal to ..."
"Illegal-shillegal! Look, I dont have any more money on me today."
I should have added 'do you take card'. That seemed to do the trick.
He looked at me as one would assess a deranged lunatic. A huge truck had been pulled up by his colleague and that diverted his attention. In the momentary lull, I drove away, checking in the rearview mirror if he was planning to give chase. Thankfully, he wasnt.
That bings me to my second question. What does one do if you are caught a second time round for the same traffic offence that you bribed your way out of?
Much thinking and I have only one solution. Don't go out on May Day. The traffic police is working extra hard.
Comments
Now, i really don't remember whether they mention your DOB on the card, but if they don't, your nod should always be in the affirmative for questions like "Are you a student". I've gotten away with paltry sums of money. Then, you build on your "student" story by saying "Saaar...just going for lunch saar..this is all the money i have for lunch and dinner saaaar...please saaar...(mind you, this should most definitely be in the regional language)
Hope that helps. :-)
becos better to give my vehicle to him instead of paying anything:-)
Joy here
@ Joy - Hi there.
Kamala (my wife) also keeps a ready sprinkling of 50 buck notes separately stowed away in the wallet for situations like this (which invariably happen when she is doing groicery runs during her luch time hours where she drives the car like Hamilton at the Monaco GP) and has also started working on her vernacular 4 letter choice words.
Cheers
Vivek