Cricket Uncut
A group blog run by professional cricket writers from across the world
Monday, March 07, 2005
The caring police
Last night, sitting at my guesthouse in Sector 3, I made dinner plans with three of my colleagues, Osman Samiuddin, Dileep Premachandran and Nagraj Gollapudi. I was supposed to meet them at Sector 22. "I'll be there in 20 minutes," I told them. I left the guesthouse.
It was just past 9 pm, but there were no autorickshaws anywhere to be seen. I walked, and walked, and the 20 minutes I had promised ran out. I tried to thumb a lift from a car, but the driver just looked at me wierdly. In the city whose open spaces I like so much, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere.
Then I saw a police jeep parked in the distance. On it was written, "Chandigarh Police: We Care for You". In desperation, I went over. There were three cops sitting inside. I told them that I was a journalist from Mumbai, and I was lost, and could they help me find an auto.
One of the men jumped out, as if he was going to arrest me. Then he gave me a broad smile and said:
"We care for you."
He stopped a scooterist on the road, and requested him to drop me to an auto. The gentleman duly did so. I was a bit late for the dinner, but Nagraj, also known as Hunter, was even later. But that's another story, not for this blog.
It was just past 9 pm, but there were no autorickshaws anywhere to be seen. I walked, and walked, and the 20 minutes I had promised ran out. I tried to thumb a lift from a car, but the driver just looked at me wierdly. In the city whose open spaces I like so much, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere.
Then I saw a police jeep parked in the distance. On it was written, "Chandigarh Police: We Care for You". In desperation, I went over. There were three cops sitting inside. I told them that I was a journalist from Mumbai, and I was lost, and could they help me find an auto.
One of the men jumped out, as if he was going to arrest me. Then he gave me a broad smile and said:
"We care for you."
He stopped a scooterist on the road, and requested him to drop me to an auto. The gentleman duly did so. I was a bit late for the dinner, but Nagraj, also known as Hunter, was even later. But that's another story, not for this blog.
