Saturday, April 10, 2010

The noble Highwaymen

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I crossed Bahadurgadh and soon I came across two factories famous for their products; Surya industries and Parle. I tried to make an entry into the Parle factory to see how Parle G or Hide-n-Seek is made but was declined by the guard. Of course he had to; it was 3 something in the night. Those guards of Surya factory said so crappy and scary stuff that it kept banging in my head for at least 5-10 minutes until I deliberately rejected those thoughts. one guard informed me,” sahab galat time choose kar liyacycle chalane ka aapne, vo bhi is ilake main, jahan 30 rupye ke pauye ke liye logon ko maar dete hain” (you chose the wrong time to cycle, and that to in such an area where people are murdered for a 30 Rs quarter).
It was time for another break and the Cadbury’s made the moment even more sweet and special. I was sitting on sewer pipes lying by the side of the road, relishing the chocolate. Here comes the twist in the tale. When I was almost set to move on, I was confronted with two fat guys on a byke, one of them wearing a blanket and their interrogation started in a very hostile way.
“kya kar raha tha yahan?” (What were you doing here?)
“Acha, fatafat bol kya kar raha tha?” (oh, really, now come up with the truth)
“Nothing man, I was just taking some rest after a lot of cycling.”
“yeh tu pehle bhi bol sake tha. Kahan se aa raha hai?” (You could have said that earlier also. Where are you coming from?)
Now this was a very dicey question because if I said Delhi, they are no way gonna believe me and even if they did, I would become an easy target to them. So I preferred to say Bahadurgarh to convey that I am no sitting duck, after all, i am from bahadurgarh, which literally means 'the abode of the brave'!!
“kahan ja Raha hai?” (Where are you going)
“How does it make difference to you?”
“farak to ham batavenge ke pade hai” (Let us tell you what difference does it make).
…(after much deliberation)…….“rohtak”
To this, they talked among themselves, “bhai, ghani gadbad laagey hai mane toh” (there’s something really fishy man). “Bag main ke le raah hai?(what's in the bag)
“There are my books. And why are you so much bothered about what’s in the bag?”
“ham security ke in charge hain (although they didn’t look like). “Pure ilake ki security ka zimma hai mhara”. (We are the security in charge. It’s our duty to look after the entire area)
“checking karva apni” (let me frisk you) and he didn’t wait for my permission to go ahead; he frisked my pockets before he even finished his sentence. Fortunately my mobile was in the side pocket of my bag and it didn’t ring at that time. I got hardly any money which again was in my bag so they didn’t find any in the pockets and finally I got their go ahead (as if they were customs officer and I needed their clearance before I can sell my product in their land.
A ‘Thank you’ came out of my mouth involuntarily; blame it to the courtesy heavy doses we have been subjected to everyday.
They replied in their typical Haryanvi style, “tere thank you ne to ham dekh lenge aage, tu abhi nikal le”. (We will see to your thank you later, you better f*** off).
So I was on the road again, making sure that I am not caught again, especially in a secluded and dark section of the road. A dhaba came by the roadside and I was too hungry to overlook it. I ordered an aalu parantha and tea. I paid the bill, washed my hands and hit the road with loads of energy but was I missing something?? Oh man, not again...... My bag was lying on the chair. I cycled back with a frantic speed to get back ASAP. Fortunately the bag was still there. I made it a point not to lose hold of the bag even for a second from then on.

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