(This post has an exclusive vocal interview with a police officer, read on!)
The doctor left. The door closed. And then, the action began.
Many of us got emails from our HR departments, and many security teams across Bangalore ushered their fellow men to reach their homes safely.
For me, like many of you, it started when married men started calling their working wives and asking them how and where they were.
"Are you safe? I...I... heard..."
A voice crackled at the other end, but it sure was relieving.
"Thank...God...I was like... I am coming, I'll be there at the earliest...don't worry dear!"
Another voice received a phone call nearby.
"Yeah, yeah...Is it? They are breaking windshields? Oh why? Ah yes, I will get going right away."
Whole offices drained away like tea down the strainer. And many tea leaves like me remained, wondering whether to complete the task at hand or to scurry for refuge. And then, maybe the holes got bigger, or the tea leaves got mightier, but they too drained to their teacups.
I was a pillion to another tea leaf, when I traveled with him to near my home. On the way, the road glistened. It glistened with beautiful circular pieces of glass. And next to these mirages, stood the four-wheelers whose windshields had embraced the tar on the road. Distorted vehicles, broken glass from supermarkets, shutters down and scampering people were all over the place.
"Hey doctor, did you ever want this to happen?"
It went on smoothly till it was a little dark, and then I heard a rumble. It was not outside. It was inside. Hunger!
I walked to the nearby shops and found them closed; I walked to the far away shops and they were closed too. The whole place was sprinkled with the police. I walked still more and saw nothing but the sodium bulb glow and regular intervals. Under one, I saw a man lying in a never ending reverie, clutching the lamp post. In the drunken stupor, he repeated "Daaktaravaru!" and salivated profusely. I don't know if he really loved doctor so much, or was paid for the day to love him.
A thought crossed my mind. What if you don't get anything to eat? All instant noodles stock at home is over too.
Then I started walking in the opposite direction and walked towards the array of shops where I smelt fresh bakery products from a shut down bakery. A few people flanked the place, which meant, something, at least stealthily, was being supplied to people.
One of them even asked me, "Kya hona saab?".
"Kya hai? Kya hua?" I pretended I was surprised by his question. I pretended not hungry.
"Daaru hona kya saab, Daaru?" His eyes twinkled and mine flamed.
"Abey, kuch khaane koh milega toh bol... Daaru kyaa boltaa hai?"
"Nahee saab, Khaane koh toh kuch nahee milega, kahin pe bhi nahee. Daaru hona toh bolo!"
And then the whole picture started making sense. In the miasma, I had missed out on people shoving bottles in their trousers, under the shirts and in their pockets.
My soul quivered at the thought. Nobody cared whether they ate or not. But I did.
Maybe the mobile phone in my hand appeared to the security guard as a stone, and he hurried down to me with alert ears and eyes like a faithful dog.
"What?" he snarled.
"Something to eat?" I pointed at TGIF with dim orange lights inside and Bombay post.
"No sir", he realized it was not a stone, "You'll get nothing—all closed". I could see the wagging tail.
I kept walking and called a friend. He was about to leave his office to get home. I first asked him to come to my place, 'coz getting to his place would take him ages. And then, I asked him to search in their cafeteria and get any leftovers—Anything.
I walked beyond the huge buildings. I took a small left turn where I struck gold. I found a half open bakery and another departmental store.
I ran to the store and asked for eight packs of instant cook noodles, a huge orange drink, two packs of salt biscuits and two of chocolate chip cookies.
Then I went into the bakery. An elderly man was asking the baker.
"Do you have something I can eat?"
The baker gestured with open hands, "This all is edible!" There was a huge array of pastries, and a whole lot of confectionary.
"No, not sweet. I have a sugar problem. Anything salty? Patties?"
"Sorry sir, no patties."
"Arrey bhai, if somebody departs, does it mean we all should as well?"
Wondering what the old man will have for dinner, I walked back to my house, a bit slower and calmer this time. I saw other scavengers eyeing the polythene bag that I was carrying. Their eyes glowed. Somebody found it, we too will.
"Excuse me. Where did you get that?" He stood in front of me, eyeing the bag.
"It's closing soon. After Manipal building, turn left. Look for a faint glow opposite a medical store. There." He didn't wait for me to complete. The slippers were already flapping faster than his heartbeats.
"Hey Doc, wassup?"
On the second day, I saw almost every four-wheeler that hit the road carrying a photocopy stuck to its windshield. It must be the photocopy of the photocopy of a photocopy. It was a black patch—that's all.
Nobody knew if it was the love for the black patch that resembled the Doctor or the fear of seeing the windshield turning to beautiful circular pieces of glass—the patch was everywhere.
_________
Doctor's Demise: The Aftermath (UT Officer talks to Metamorf)
(4.09MB | Mp3)
(listen to the interview by clicking the blue play button, or download the file)
An Under Trainee police officer spoke to us in an exclusive interview with metamorf and said:
"One more thing was that the Reserve Police men(at the spot) were not ready to use their tear gas weapons, so we (trainees, freshers) had to take the gun (from them), we had to fire ourselves. Though we were freshers, we had no experience of firing, we had just been taught about how to use that...tear-gas gun."
Other excerpts from the Interview:
"Actually the procedure is that the trainees should not be given... crowd control where live action is going on..."
"In our case, the veterans were literally standing behind...We were asking them at least give your cane shields and body protector, so that we can go ahead and do the thing. They were not even ready to give their equipment nor they themselves were coming ahead to fight the mob."
_________
"May your soul rest in peace...And may we rest in peace, as well?"
9 Comments
but the question is "who cares ?"
well, i wish everyone had a sound up-bringing and a little of humanity.
i was not knowing abt it
and hope your stocks did good to you :-)
Yes, "Who cares?" is why this happened.
@Mon: i wish everyone had a sound up-bringing and a little of humanity.
Exactly.
@Charul: Yes, very sad.
@Ashish: I am fine. These events make us stronger everytime. Yeah, and the stocks did good.
@Mukesh: Thanks, mahn!
@ishy: ish it?
Remember me??? The one who scribbled the felt marker with you in Omniquad!!! He he he... Dude, nice blog you got there!!! So howz you??? Heard you're back in B'lore... good man! Say, you got a number I can call.. itz been some time... visit me @ http://mnemonix.blogspot.com
-Thiru
hei, so u r in now bnglr...I thought in gurgaon. Actually i hv a weakness in gurgaon...
bnglr i hvnt gone yet, if someday landed would hv a nice time...
cheers..
Roy
Yep, I am back in bangalore. Thanks for the compliments.
Wait for an email. And Fella, mnemonix rocks!
Keep up the Good thing!
@Roy: Yes, Mr. Roy! Bangalore it is!
Tell us about the weakness. And do come to Bangalore. We'll jam!
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