23 June, 2011

Pleading Not Guilty - Part 1/3

Disclaimer : The article below is a work of "fiction" based on the author's imagination and does not correspond to any place, person or situation in any frame of time. In case of "similarity" with any kind of real incidents, it shall be deemed as a mere coincidence. Also, due to the size of the entire article, it shall be posted on this blog in 3 different posts.


-                      1          -

            Last week I happened to make my inaugural trip to a local Police Station. No, I wasn’t there because of the “usual reasons” though if a charge could be avoided I would be more than happy to take responsibility of a few murders. I was there because I had to get a “no criminal record” certificate for my prospective internship at one of India’s best aircraft companies. Somehow they wouldn’t accept me in their company till I produced a certificate from our highly dedicated bureaucrats that I was never responsible for any illegal activity, at least in their papers. Now those of you who might have had an opportunity to visit such an establishment might know how tranquil the whole procedure is. This story is about such an adventure.

            It started when I received my conformation from the company that they’d allow me an industrial training for 2 months but for that I’d need to produce a Police Verification Certificate declaring that during my stay at college I was never a part of any illegal activity. I supposed this to be an easy job as during my 2 years of stay I didn’t even get myself in even a disciplinary hearing from the college. A complete criminal record was off the hook. I went to the local Police Station to get the certificate. This was the first time I was visiting one and I had no idea of the usual bureaucratic system. Plus in a reputed college like mine, I expected things to be smooth. I entered the police station to find 2 empty chairs facing paper-loads of tables which were a century due in cleaning. I thought about my next steps. Should I sit on the bench kept there and wait, should I go inside and search for someone, or should I simply go back and forget about my internship. After waiting for a few minutes I decided to go inside. As soon as I entered the door the backside of the Police Station was exposed and I was face-to-face with a heap of rusty old cycles. Hundreds of cycles in a heap along a wall. I remembered the good track record my college has of lost cycles. Could these be them? I could see the registration numbers almost all cycles of my college have. These were surely cycles of the students but what were they doing here. That too in such a heap! Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming my way and I tip-toed my way to the waiting bench. A person in casual shirt and trousers came to me and demanded what I was doing there. It was like one of those cops you see in the movies. Over 6 feet tall, dark, heavy moustache and a pot belly. I presumed that he was an officer there and I told him about my plea.

            ‘That cannot be done here. You need to send an application to the head Police Office.’ He spoke in perfect Bengali. Thanks to my Bengal upbringing I could understand the meaning of his sentences even though I wasn’t able to translate every word.
            ‘Where is the head Police Office?’ I asked.
            ‘It’s in the New Town. You need to send an application there which will be forwarded here. Then you’ll need to send an application here for the certificate.’
            Meanwhile another person entered the room. He was thinner and shorter but had the same grimacing moustache. Perhaps he realised that I was having trouble with Bengali so he translated.
            ‘Police Station need go you. Apply there. Come here. Here certificate take.’
            ‘But this is a Police Station right?’
            ‘Na nana re! Ki baba! Ee Police Station no. This is Police Faadi.’ I still don’t know what or why a Police “Faadi” is. ‘If more information you want. You go head office. 15 km here.’

            By now I understood that my work would not be done here. I needed to go to that Police Station which hopefully would not be another “Faadi.” By the way, if any of you know what is the difference between a Faadi and a Station, please let me know. Also tell me that if I want a certificate that I am not a criminal why should it be so difficult. I mean the situation should be difficult for the criminals. All they needed to do was to check their records for my name and if they didn’t find anything, they could have given me the clean chit. But I didn’t realise that the real difficult part was yet to start.