Dei Mama!

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.

And thus, Mama successfully does what he does best -  Wipe out your wallet. Then, Just before you leave, he will say 'Next time intha maathiri offence ellam panna koodathu.' (Don't repeat such offences next time.) Which in turn, means we should do the remaining offences next time. But hey, all is well. Mama prevails. 

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