Friday, July 6, 2018

Have you Ever Hugged a Policeman?

I have; on the last weekend evening. He probably must be a bit older than my son.  I have not had such an encounter with any policeman like this before. I have noticed many policemen who stop two wheeler riders and look for defaults to show of writing a bill and take money and never write bill or hand it over; or talk about a heavy fine for a silly matter and bargain for a bribe to let go off the fine; I have seen cops, taking away apples and pomegranates filling into their plastic carry bags for penalizing the poor men and women sitting’ illegally’ on the road side of Thirumangalam - Ambattur road in Chennai; or taking even a twenty rupees note from an auto rickshaw driver who pause before the hospital on the Poonamalee High road a few meters away from the Kilpauk traffic police station.

I dare not to list any more for I may ultimately forget talking about this strange policeman whom I met for the first time on a Friday evening in Nellore RTC bus stand, on my way back from work, heading towards our ‘temporary’ home in Chennai.  He was indifferently different, decent and calm without much emotional expressions on his face!


It was a very quick to respond time. And I noticed him quite cool for more than an hour and a half when we had to travel together. Before he could leave me, I opened my mobile phone and asked him to dial his number, gave him a ring and then saved it. Soon after I jumped into the Thiruppathi-born coloured APSRTC bus where we both got down, I sent him a message on to his mobile. I wished I had taken a picture of him; he had already taken mine. When I checked on WhatsAap,  I could locate him and see his picture! This is what I scribbled on my phone quickly and sent him:  
 "My dear Sir, Hats off to you! I should not wait too long to thank you for your great help. You turned to be an angel to me this evening. I could not reward you more than anything that of a hug. I would ever be grateful to you and to God for you, your parents, and your leaders who trained you up. I have a story to tell of this experience and your timely help. Almighty God bless you, your career and your family. See you soon sometime. Your dear friend, Philipose Vaidyar".

You may be wondering what really happened!  It was about 6:35 pm when reached the bus stand to get back home for the weekend. Bus route number ‘103’, painted with green stripes was obviously to Chennai. I could read the bus board in Tamil as I always loved other languages especially Tamil even many years before I came to Chennai and someone told me, Tamil is supposed to be the mother of all languages!. Usually buses from Nellore to Chennai will have English board as well. The short, bus conductor in strange dark kakhi uniform was around though the bus was almost empty. I asked him, "Does this bus go by 7:00 pm? I knew there was a bus to Chennai by that time. He said, “yes”, and I had enough time to get small parcel for food. I rushed to the restaurant, and ordered a parcel of idlies, the tiffin available any time anywhere the region. It was not because I loved idly all the time. The journey is almost four and half hours and the operators were fond of a regular stoppage where idlies did not seem that safer food next to the maida made chappattis that did prefer either. For me, when I eat, was more important  than what I should eat.  

I had 20 minutes of time unlike last time when I preferred to buy a packet of biscuits and a tetra pack fruit juice. This time I thought a couple of idlis will do good for my stomach though I do not really eat for mouth. As I prefer to eat to live, other than living to eat, it did not matter me much. But guy at the restaurant took much time to deliver it to me but I still had 15 minutes. I was telling him, that I need to go by bus.  Now when I turned back I could see new green LED lights  glowing ‘Chennai’  and it is on the next bus, same green. My bus was gone. But what is there to worry about a bus just missed !? I came running, enquired about the other bus to the conductor I saw earlier in blue dark and light uniform. He coolly said, “the bus left, it was the 6:45 bus!” He tells me, it was his bus that would leave by 7:00 pm.  Why should I worry so much? My cabin sized suitcase, with my lap top, good working though nine years old, enough stuff for a week's travel, and a backpack with full of personal documents and original ID cards were inside the bus!. I ran out to the direction the bus would have gone. 
I did not speak much Telugu, as it was just less than two months in this location. I saw a bike coming out of the bus stand. I stopped him and asked if he could help me follow the bus. He advised me in Telugu to take an auto and follow as I can catch it before it will reach the highway. I found yet another bus of Andhra Pradesh leaving and I thought the police man who was getting inside could help me somehow. Probably by calling the cops on duty at some traffic signal point and stop the bus. The old policeman responded something that I really did not follow. I understood one thing, he sounded helpless and he was asking me how he could help me. If I knew that I would not have run to him.
It was getting late. I knew I cannot waste time now. I saw one more young police man getting into the bus that would leave soon. I decided to run back to the spot. There was yet another policeman with a Walkie-talkie in his back pocket, boarding the 7:00 pm bus. I called him for help:  he was quite calm. I spoke to him in the Tamil I was I heard many people in Nellore follow Tamil. But knowing me he responded in English. But it was very slowly and just few words. I wanted to know what he could do to retrieve my baggage. But I dared not. I was praying within watching carefully his responses.  He came down and checked with the conductor if he could get the phone number of the one who left. I thought the conductor felt it too silly.

I expected the police would take his walkie-talkie and call some police on the way to stop the bus. But he took his mobile phone and whispered something to someone. I was curious to know his strategy but kept watching him. He asked me to follow him. He negotiated with the driver of the Thirupathi bus already began to move. Finally, he asked me get in and he got in too. The bus was full, but the conductor helped sit on the tiny foldable seat near the doorway. The policeman also had got a regular seat in the front. I continued to search on my mobile for contact numbers of the bus depot at Ponneri, where the bus had belong as told by the other conductor.  But it was in vein. The policeman responded to me after my long wait, “We can get the bags. I will ask my friend to collect it from the bus. But it will be after an hour!” My God, one hour ? What all can happen to the bag on the seat?

By the time the policeman asking me details about the bags. The suit case was grey-black, and on the luggage spot just above the seat. The back-pack too was grey in colour and it was left on the second row of the seats on the window side, behind the doorway.  He kept scribbling on his phone. He then said, he will take a picture too for the one who collect the bags to recognize me. In the meantime there arose an argument between the bus operators and a passenger. It seemed that the passenger had requested a concession for which he had to show an ID proof. He had one, issued by the government on some service scheme. But the driver insister that he should have   an Aadhar card. Unlike in Kerala or Tamil Nadu, here the driver was acting more authoritative. They did not bunch even a little and finally the passenger alighted. The conductor asked me to go and sit on that seat. I said I will stand. But the policeman advised me to go over and sit as it would take certainly more than one hour. He told me, “I have asked someone to collect the bags at the toll plaza”. Hesitantly I went behind and sat. A little while the conductor had come and issued me ticket for Rs.95 to Naidupetta and collected the 100 rupee note. The idly packet is swinging from my hand as I was holding to the cross bar in front of me. Everything, because of this idly, I thought. But I was praying as the bus was in full speed on the highway. Almost 45 minutes gone, you won’t know how I could sit in the bus calmly. The policeman is calmly watching the TV behind the driver’s cabin.

There comes the toll plaza. I went up to the front, ready to get out. But the police friend told me, “not this, the next toll plaza”. I had to sit again. It was one hour by now. The second toll plaza had come, and I am there near the policeman. He told me, “the bags are collected but I asked him to stay after the toll plaza on the highway”.
By now I had gained strength to ask him, “Sir, will you have to go all the way back?”
“No, I have to attend a meeting here on the way at Ozli. My duty is there and it still belonged to the Nellore Police station area!”.

 I had gone back to my seat. I had finally decided to call my wife and inform what had happened expecting her too to pray, though I had the faith deep down in my heart that I will not miss the baggage. Ozli was approaching. Now he turned back to me and nodded, no way I could miss noticing him. The bus was approaching a bus stop on the highway. It was a small junction. There in the headlight of the bus I could see a young man holding my grey backpack and the suitcase beside him. Mr. D.S. Vijay Kumar, the police constable had also advised to check the bag for my belongings. The bus stopped and both of us were soon out on the road. I shook the hand of the young man who was holding my bag, quickly opened the front of the hag and pushed the packet of idlies and looked for my hand bag with all my ids in the main section. It is there! “Shall I continue on the same bus?”, I asked him. “Yah, better not to lose time” he suggested.  I had no words of gratitude to express. I flung my arms wide and gave him a tight hug before I could get back on board.

As I was thinking on, seated in the bus, how difficult it would have been if otherwise, the policeman texts me back, “Thank you for providing me a chance to serve”.

Was he not really an angel to me at that point of time send in by the Lord Almighty? How could I meet him on that moment when he was boarding a bus? Was it not a perfect timing ordained by the good Lord? Can I also consider this as a greater reward, as promised by the Lord, “You will be given by the same measure you use; hard pressed and overflowing?
philjy@gmail.com

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