Mumbai Police - Where should you go?

I just read another news article about how a man had to go to 3 police stations before a case was registered! Ye hai India meri Jaan!

It is stupid, it is insane.

A man should be allowed to lodge a complaint at any police station – and the police should sort it out internally within 1 hour, who is responsible to get cracking. Or, be given Carte Blanche re jurisdiction. They should, in any case, be held responsible for the case registered at their Police Station. Period. And there should be an escalation mechanism. If appropriate responses are not received, one should be able to move to a higher authority.

Now let's come to horrible rule #2. Unless an FIR is lodged, a grievous injury may not be treated by a doctor at a hospital!!! Now this has to take the cake. This goes beyond insane - to inhuman.
Doctors should be allowed to treat patients – and call the police station, or fill up paperwork later. I mean, what earth-shaking would happen if the injury is NOT reported?

How is that dress?

My wife bought a yellow dress from the mall yesterday. Before we got to the payment counter, she asked me like, n times, "Is it good?" I was kind of getting tired of answering the same question, asked in different verbiage.

So anyway, we get to the line, and there is this stern-looking female standing alongside us.
She eyeballed the dress, and her stern look developed into a frown! Where DID you find that?
My wife, slightly taken aback, at the sudden question and the stern look, took a moment before she replied. "Second floor", she said, and then went on to explain the exact location.

"Are there any more?" The stern one asked, her expression now mellowing a little.

"Um, yes, I guess. But not this size", my wife replied.

Without any more backchat, much less thanks, the female rushed off to the second floor.

Now, my wife was truly beaming. It was a nice dress, after all!!!

Are you really sorry? Or just saying it?

While at the Mall yesterday, as the queues at the payment counter grew longer, patience was running thin even as people in adjacent lines jostled into each other unknowingly.

A swelte woman, clad in skin-tight jeans, turning sharply away from the counter, rammed her elbow into the solar plexus of a well-dressed gentleman standing in the adjacent line.

She said "I'm Sorry".

Gracious, isn't it? Far from it. While her mouth said sorry, her eyes flashed, and her countenance seemed to proclaim, "Get out of my Fxxxxxg way - couldn't you have moved out in time, you moron?" I couldn't believe her. Why would someone be so angry on hitting someone else??? And I've NEVER seen such scorn paraded around in a public place for no reason!

To add sorry to that weird, unapologetic, truculent attitude, it was an insult to "sorry"!!!

I'd say it's better to save such sorries than make such a pathetic show.

You are in a queue (..and we're not apologizing)

My wife and I went to a mall today. She wanted to get a good sandal. My agenda was to get her to buy a nice outfit for herself. I could have bought it myself and surprised her, but more than the surprise, I wanted her to have what she really wanted. I'm not in with the latest buzz in ladies' wear, so...

Anyway, she chose this pale yellow dress which she tried on and had her heart set on. She decided to buy it.

Would you believe it - after standing at the payment counter for about 15 minutes, the man behind the counter said to us all, "it's going to take a long time, so could you please make the payments at the 2nd floor?"

So we went to the 2nd floor, which already had a longer line than the 1st floor!!!

The Salesman, with no apology in his eyes or manner, said, to the person in front of me, "could you go to the ground floor counter?" Notice how the "Please" is so conspicuously absent from this sentence. Muttering to myself, we moved to the ground floor. Finally, after about 10 minutes' wait, we were able to buy the dress. Phew!

Taught me to go to a mall on Sunday!!!

Crawford Market - keep your eyes (and nose) open!!

We went to Crawford market in the Fort area in Mumbai today.
I hadn't really planned on buying anything - we were just moving around the place, looking at the various shops, which seemed to carry the same set of merchandise.

Anyway, we came to this Perfume seller, who had all descriptions of deodorants and stuff.

"What would you like sir? Deo? Soap? Perfume?", the man asked eagerly.

I ventured closer to his wares, and spotted Nivea Deo amongst those present.

"'ll take a Nivea deo" I said.
"A full box?" he queried.
"No, I'll just take one. "
"The box is for Rs. 540/- only. Six-pack! You'd save 60 rupees. "
"No, I'll take just one", I continued.
So I bought one for Rs. 100/-
As we drove away from Crawford market, I sprayed the stuff on my hand.
Smelled alright.
Ten minutes later, the smell was barely perceptible.

Anyway, arriving home about an hour later, there were no signs of my having sprayed anything on my hand. The damn thing was a fake.

My brother later told me that Crawford market was famous for its fakes!!! And people bought the fake stuff knowing it's fake, for a much lower price!!

Well, I remembered having heard this one before, and wished I'd thought of that before I bought the dud bottle!!!

Rainy Shoes, or plain embarassment?

The rains bring on another problem. You can no longer wear your natty leather shoes.

So, I started off by buying myself a pair of rubber-soled shoes. I was happy when it finally rained in Mumbai. I got my chance to use my new shoes.

Arriving at office, I was stunned that I had stepped on a rat.

I mean, the squeak of agony that emanated from under my feet sounded like a rat stepped on than anything else. However, progressive steps proved that my new shoes were the proud sponsors of the above sound. It was embarrassing, to say the least. I mean, I have seen squeaky shoes for kids that are supposed to make a sound, but this one was making enough sound for 10 of them!

I immediately got myself a pair of plastic soled ones. They don't squeak ; they just sound like horse's hooves.

Now I bring delight to the mundane life of the chaps and chapettes in the office by doing an excellent likeness of clippety-clap, horse-trot every time I walk.

BEST Bus and Rains

A few days back, (probably miffed by the weatherman's preditiction, that "it would rain less than usual" this year) the monsoons in Mumbai seem to have moved in for a 24X7 battering.
Wearing water appears to be in fashion these days in Mumbai. You wear a little of it, or more of it, depending on the cussedness of your luck. Not surprisingly, the insides of BEST bus cannot guarantee to keep you dry.

“No, Pullll-ease do not eye this seat, Phullease”, I chanted to myself, even as the apparition drew near. But to no avail. This guy came and sat beside me. Well, squelched beside me would be mot juste. While in Std. V or thereabouts, I’d read that human body is 70% water. This human body was about 90%. Correction. 99%. I cringed as much as I could, but I couldn’t cringe my way out of getting a second-hand wetting. Chamanlal said I must've been hit by a sideways cloudburst, though (he said) he couldn't claim to have ever seen/experienced/heard of, one.

In case you are wondering, BEST is an acronym for BrihanMumbai Electric Supply & Transport Undertaking.