In the normal terms, your mother needs to have a brother. In some countries like the US, your mother herself responds to that call, though 'Dei' does not
seem entirely the right prefix to that word. But in Chennai, there is one
person with no blood relation or the slightest hint of a resemblance whatsoever
who can take that proud status. He stands regularly at signals and check posts,
mostly with a tea in one hand (which was sponsored by a poor tea-kadai owner)
and a light saber in the other.
This is a different light saber though. It gives two colors - Red
and Green. And the chances of the light saber working are inversely proportional
to the weight of our man's wallet. Oh, wait. There is also a job called Mama,
but Naukri dot com does not support that job profile, so we'll skip that.
To me, there are two types of people who will do anything for money. The
bankers in the US. They are on Wall Street. The next are our city's traffic
constables. And they are on EVERY STREET! They use a bare minimum of statements
to extract every last penny you have on you. With bellies big enough to hold
triplets, it's amazing how quickly they are able to run right out of nowhere to
the centre of the road and stop your bike.
They all have a pattern. Every traffic cop greets you with the same statement,
in the exact same intonation. Sometimes I wonder if they get training on
dialogue delivery.
'Eyy Nirthu Nirthu. Vandiya orangattu.' (Hey, stop stop. Pull up on the
side.)
You have to pull up. If you don't, they'll pull out your keys. And if
they do that, feel free to add an extra hundred bucks to the amount you will
normally expect to hear.
'Licensu, Aar see, insoorance edu.' (Please show your licence, RC and
Insurance papers)
By the end of that statement, they have already made a mental note of
your attire, the cost of your bike/car, how fancy your mobile phone is and
printed out a thorough alphabetically categorized report of your social status
inside their head. Then when they realize your papers are intact, they move
onto their next standard question. (If your papers are also not intact, then
the conversation takes a completely different course, but that can wait.)
'Paatha padchavan maari keere. Neeye ipdi panlaama?' (You look well
educated. Should you be doing this?)
Then he will look at the offence you have made and calculate the amount
you need to pay, using his equation.
X = Government's actual fine + ( 100 * The number of the current week
in the month) + (A random 100 bucks service tax)
For ex, if you have jumped a signal on the 21st of the month - the
actual fine is 100. Another 300 for it being the third week of the month,
followed by the random 100, bringing it to a grand total of 500.
'Sigunal jumbing, not stobing at stob line, vandi le oru rearview
mirror seriya ille. 500 reebees.' (Jumping the signal, not stopping at the stop
line and one rearview mirror is not correctly placed. 500 bucks.)
Then you beg. You give your entire family history ranging from your
struggling father, ailing mother and your waiting-to-be-married sister and your
very poor current financial status. Honestly, you could've given a lecture on
why Stone Cold Steve Austin is the coolest wrestler in the World and he
wouldn't know the difference. They don't listen to a word you say. Eventually
it all comes down to the same question.
'Seri, evlo vechirke?' (Fine. How much do you have?)
And then you pull out your wallet and search. By then he's already
peeped. So you lie saying you have only hundred. Smart mama says 'At least
300.' (Because he has already seen that you have Exactly 300.). And you
eventually pay 300.
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