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Humor /Satire
The Great Indian Political Circus
by Ramendra Kumar

Chapter 10

Unthonee Muni was standing at a busy road crossing. Ahead of him a ten year old boy was was crossing the road. Just then a Hyundai Accent appeared at breakneck speed blaring loud music. There was a deafening screech of breaks as the driver tried to avoid hitting the boy who in turn tried to jump out of the way. The car lost complete control and crashed into the boy sending him flying. As the boy fell unconscious the car zoomed away.

Unthonee mentally noted the number of the car, whipped out a notepad and wrote down the number. He then rushed to the aid of the boy who was still unconscious and lying in a pool of blood. A crowd had gathered around but no one come forward to help.

“Listen, friends, just help me. We have to rush this boy to a hospital quickly. If we delay it might prove fatal,” Unthonee said looking around. There was no response from the on lookers and the crowd gradually melted away.

Unthonee tried to hail the passing cars and a few cabs. A couple of them stopped, but seeing the boy lying in a pool of blood rushed off in haste. Finally a Sardar cab driver stopped his taxi and sprang out.

“What happened, Paape?” he asked.

“Some rascal ran over the boy and sped off. We have to take this boy to the hospital, come help me.”

Together they lifted the child and placed him in the rear seat of the car. Unthonee sat in front and they drove to the hospital.

By the time they reached the casualty ward of the Government Hospital it was around eleven. They placed the boy on the stretcher outside and went into the doctor’s cabin. The doctor was talking on his cell. After around ten minutes he replaced the receiver and looked up at Unthonee.

“Yes?”

“Doctor, please help. There has been an accident….”

“Take it easy,” the doctor interrupted. “Why are you getting so excited?” He removed a fat, moth eaten register and asked, “Your name?”

“Unthonee Muni, but………”

“Your father’s name?” the Doctor said shutting him up with a wave of his hand.

“N. Muni.”

“Your age?”

“32 years.”

“Profession?”

“Journalist.”

“Identification marks?”

“Doctor, this is really too much, outside, the poor kid is fighting for his life and here you are asking all sorts of irrelevant questions.”

“Irrelevant? You think all this is relevant? You don’t understand the sanctity of procedures. This is a Government hospital. Here procedure is more important than life. Procedure is God. For men may come and men may go but the procedures go on forever. And what was that you said about some poor kid? You did not meet with an accident?”

“Doctor, be reasonable. Had I met with an accident would I have been in this state? A ten-year old boy has met with a serious accident and he is lying outside. Please attend to him quickly.”

“All in good time, dear fellow, but first things first. What is the name of the boy?”

“I don’t know, but…….”

“What is his father’s name, his address?”

“I don’t know, doctor, but please, why don’t you understand…?”

“What are his identification marks? In which school does his study? What is his mother tongue? Has he been vaccinated….?”

“Listen, doctor. We don’t have time. Because of your stupid procedure the boy will die.”

“You shut up and answer me first. What’s your name you said? Looney…….. Mooney, have you registered a case in the police station?”

“Where was the time for all this? Had I got busy doing all that, the poor kid would have died!”

“So what? I can’t help all that. In Mera Bharat Mahaan daily millions of people die. In this very hospital, every week, thousands croak. Am I responsible for all the deaths? Sorry, Muni, no registration, no admission. This is an accident case. I don’t want to get into trouble.”

He shut the register, picked up a soft-porn magazine and started reading.

Unthonee was enraged. He helplessly looked at the driver who nodded understandingly. He went to the Doctor and whispered something in his ear. The Doctor shook his head. The driver whispered something more. The doctor raised five fingers. The driver lifted two. The doctor shook his head. Finally the driver lifted three fingers and the doctor nodded in affirmation. The driver came close to Unthonee and whispered in his ears.

“Saab, it has been settled. Saala haarami, was asking for five, but I have managed to make him agree for three.”

“For three? I didn’t understand.”

“For three hundred rupees he will admit the boy and start the treatment. But there is one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Within two hours if we don’t get the case registered and report here, he will chuck the boy out, whatever state he might be in.”

Unthonee handed him three hundred rupee notes. The driver went up to the Doctor and slipped the money in his shirt pocket. The doctor continued reading and without looking at the driver said, “Remember- two hours.”

The driver nodded his head and along with Unthonee walked out.

Ten minutes later the cab driver dropped him in front of the police station.

Unthonee paid the driver, thanked him profusely and walked inside. He found a large, bald and brawny man sitting behind a huge desk. On the desk awas a name plate carrying the legend; ‘Inspector Gangu Haath Marode’. His feet were on the table. He was drinking what looked like country liquour from a bottle and chewing a piece of chicken leg. A Constable was sitting in a corner dozing.

“Excuse me, Inspector Saab…..” began Yuppy.

The Inspector motioned him to sit down. Ten minutes later, after finishing of the booze and the chicken, he wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve, looked at Unthonee and said, “Bolo, what’s your problem? Your wife has run away with the neighbor's driver?”

“No, nothing of that sort has happened.”

“Then your brother must have threatened to murder you or your pet poodle must have got lost. Tell me what grave emergency has brought you here at this time of the night.”

“Inspector saab, a boy met with a very serious accident. I just admitted him to the hospital and came rushing here.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“The Doctor says unless a case is registered the boy will not be treated.

The Inspector looked at the Constable and snapped, “Pandu, you donkey, get up. You have the bloody guts to sleep in front of your superior- that too during duty hours! Get up!”

The Constable continued snoring. The Inspector picked up a paperweight and chucked it. It landed on the Constable’s paunch and he woke with a start babbling foolishly:

“Who is that? Hands up, I’ll shoot you. Don’t forget, my name is Pandu Jamadaar……”

“You bloody donkey! Stop babbling and listen to me.”

“Yes, saar, Sorry, saar, g….. good morning, sir.”

“There is an accident case. Quickly note the details.”

Pandu got up rubbing his eyes and yawning. He picked up a register, opened it, removed a pencil stub from behind his ear, licked it and looked at Unthonee.

“What is your name?”

“Unthonee Muni.”

“What is your father’s name?”

“N. Muni.”

“What do you do?”

“I am a reporter.”

“Who is the victim?”

“A ten years old boy.”

“What is his name? His father’s name? His address? Quickly tell me the details. I am very busy.”

“I do not know anything about the boy.”

“Oh, oh! Now I understand. The boy is a stranger. You ran over him and getting scared of our Inspector came running to report the case.”

“No, Panduji, nothing of that sort. I was standing at a crossing when I saw a speeding Hyundai Accent run over this child. I picked him up and took him to a Government Hospital and got him admitted. Now, as per the doctor’s instructions, I have come to register the case.”

The Inspector who had again started drinking looked up in disbelief.

“What did you say? The boy is not known to you?”

“No, sir.”

“Your car has not run over him?”

“Of course not, sir.”

“In spite of this you took him to the hospital, got him admitted and then came here to report. Are you drunk?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Then you must be completely mad.”

“Mad? But why?”

“Had the screws in your nut not been loose why would you have taken so much of trouble? Why would you have unnecessarily spent your time, money and energy?

“But isn’t there something called humanism?”

“Humanism! Ha-hah! Pandu, just listen to thus nut. He is mouthing dialogues from Manoj Kumar’s flop films.”

The Inspector and Pandu started laughing uproariously.

“O’ great swamiji, did you note the number of the car?”

“Yes, of course. UR-14/420 - it is a cream coloured Hyundai Accent.”

“The number sounds familiar and so does the description of the car,” the Inspector said scratching his head.

Jus then the phone rang. The inspector picked up the receiver and growled into it.
“Hello.”

Suddenly he straightened and got up from his seat. “Good night, sir, sorry, sir, good morning….. I mean good evening sir. Yes sir, yes sir. I just go to the report. Yes, sir, Hyundai Accent sir, cream colored sir, the number is UR-14/420. Is it Goldy baba’s? Don’t worry, sir, I’ll take care. There will not be any problem. You can sleep peacefully, sir. Sir, one more thing, can you please talk to SP saab, sir? Yes, sir. The promotions will be in October. Last year I narrowly missed it, sir? In that hotel raid I had taken a little bit of money sir. But after that I have been very careful sir. I have taken only from reliable parties, sir. Please sir, if you put in a word to SP saab, everything will be all right, sir. And, sir, regarding Goldy Baba please don’t worry. As long Inspector Gangu Haath Marode is there is there no one will be able to touch our naughty Goldy baba. Yes, sir, good night, sir.” 

Continued

Page 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20
         21 | 22 | 23 | 24

April 28, 2007

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