Old monk, cops and a homeless firang chick!

There are many ways to make an evening exciting. Picking up rum and going near the sea to drink at an ungodly 1.30 am is one of them. So my friend, me and two other guys decided to go to Carter Road, in a kopcha my friend very confidently said was a safe place... by safe he meant not anti-social elements but cops.

Anyway, we were sipping on our staple Old Monk and coke and sat chatting up. We ran out of our alcohol, but decided to stick around a bit longer talking. Then suddenly we see a strange chick walking up and down looking at us queerly. Maybe she was four hours early for her morning walk. But we decide to let her be. What if she was a psycho who would get angry for asking her something and killed us all?

But she was least of our problems, even if she were a serial killer or a ghost. We had bigger troublemakers waiting to pounce on us - the cops. At around 3 am, we see a police jeep driving in to the small lane. Instinctively we all look at my friend who claimed that the place never gets busted. Obviously, the jeep stops and the cop comes up to us and asks the usual, 'Kya kar rahe ho?'... to which we reply, 'Kuch nahin sir, aise hi baatein kar rahe hain'. He picks up a plastic glass lying there and smells, to which we say, 'yeh hamara nahi hai'. Next thing we know, he asks us to go with him. We tell him that we didn't do anything wrong... and he tells us that someone called and complained that chaar ajeeb log wahan baithe hain. I almost blurted out an offended, "Excuse me? Ajeeb kaun?" Then I looked at all four of us - in almost ragged clothes, unkempt hair and out at 3 am sitting in one konaa just to talk. By normal standards, that is ajeeb. So, there. 

Anyway, he assures us that they'll only take our details and let us go. So, we comply (like we had a choice!). He asks if we have had alcohol and mercifully none of us is even tipsy. We tell him the truth that we drank a few hours earlier. The other constable takes our names, address, cell number and asks our occupation. Funnily, all 4 of us are writers, so when the 3rd dude says, 'writer', the constable's pen stops, he looks up and says, "Aisa kya writing karte ho?" Anyway, I was the last one to give details and when he asks my profession, I say, 'journalist' just to save all our asses. By this time I realized it was just a sham because I could have said I am some Pinky Arora, a fashion designer (don't think he would have believed that, but still), who resides at Santacruz and he wouldn't have even realized that I was lying.

All this while there was this dedh shaana 'Michael daaru pi ke danga karta hai' kinda guy who was lurking around like a hyena. He comes up to check if everything was ok. Clearly, he was drunk. The inspector shoos him away... lekin woh phir prakat ho jata hai. This dude's story is that his politician brother is getting engaged at 6 am (dude, I'd never make it for my own engagement at such a heartbreaking hour!), so he has to wake up at 4 am and he'd rather stay awake all night...

Then the chick reappears. She asks the inspector to give his cellphone. Finally we come to know that she's a Canadian girl and had been out with her friends. She lost her cellphone and her house keys were with her room mate. This babe didn't remember her roomie's cell no. so she couldn't call and ask her to come back.

Well, I'm sure the cops wanted to take bribe from us, but the inspector and consty have a little chat and they see the 'journalist' staring at them from the sheet so they decide to not mess around. Again, anyoen could say they are a journalist and get away in that case because they didn't do anything to check my credentials.

So, this inspector dude says, 'yeh madam (Miss Canada) ki help kar dena. Sochna kuch acha kiya'. And then he gives us his cell number on his own and says, 'ab aap logon ko koi kuch nahi bolega. Doosre police wale aayenge ya koi problem hui toh mujhe call karna, main sambhal lega'. We couldn't believe it!

After he left, we decided to hang around because we didn't want to leave the missy alone. So we stayed put, entertaining her. My 3 friends were going all crazy; they were actually making fun of the situation... One of them was actually cracking some dead baby jokes! Then a car drives in, and we almost jump thinking it's the Canadian chick's roomie. She goes up and peeps in the car, but there are four weird guys who get very excited to see a pretty firangi peeping in. Two of them get out of the car and we all go, 'Uh...' I swear I almost got my pen knife out. Then we tell them that we are waiting for a friend and they drive off. 

Some small talk happens and those guys are back, this time with some cheap Bollywood song blaring and they stop and ask if we want a lift. We politely say no. Finally at 4 am that girl's friends arrive! We heave a sigh of relief (weird phrase this) and after a quick round of introduction, we say goodbyes and good mornings. I reached home at 5 am, along with the doodhwala. Get to my bed and CRASH!

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