Two of my NRG relatives were in Goa for their annual visit to soak in the sun (Europe is freezing right now) and to savour naryal paani, sur, gaunti veggies, mussrads, kazus and ponnos. So each morning, after a hurried breakfast, they’d religiously get to the beach by 7.30 am for a long swim. But in the third week of their four week sojourn, the husband, John was at the police station for the first time in his life of seven decades. That fateful day, as warm waves washed over the relaxed duo, two migrants swiped John’s clothes, wallet and Rolex watch and ran! The 70-year-old, an athlete and basket ball player in his hey-day, ran after the miscreants in just his swim-trunks and sea-water glistening on his torso in the 10 am sunshine. One rascal got away but the other, all of 20, was nabbed by the locals who were swifter than John. The thief received a good hiding and was asked for the goods. But he gave the common excuse, ‘The other guy ran away with the goods’. However, John had full faith in the Goan constablary because the other thief couldn’t be very far away. Therefore he rushed to the police station and handed in the culprit.
But, within 30 minutes at the chowki, John realized the difference between European cops and their Goan brothers. The couple of hawaldars who were present probably took John for a tippy brown tourist roaming around in his trunks who, like a bad dream, would go away. But John didn’t go away. Instead he watched the goings-on in the room and realized he was one of many with similar complaints of beach thefts. Nevertheless, he questioned loudly, “Won’t someone listen to me ~ my clothes, wallet and watch have been swiped!” A hawaldar, who dodged giving his name, listened to him. John returned home with a complaint copy but minus his clothes (probably a branded set of beach-wear), watch and temper.
Well, John expected great news from the chowki on the second day but I didn’t, knowing the lethargic effect the sun has on us. Our constablary was full of excuses, saying you shouldn’t have kept your things on the beach because migrants target swimmers. Their other excuse was, “Sir, we have beaten the thief but he denies knowing the whereabouts of his thief-in-arms”. All a very peeved John wanted to know is, “Have you got my stuff ~ that watch was a gift from my late brother….” and expected the police to police the beach well since it’s teeming with petty thieves. Pat came another excuse, “Sir, we are extremely understaffed. Can’t patrol the beaches all day.” On the third day of the theft, John still hoped in his heart the ‘investigations wouldl produce the culprit and his dear watch because he probably had the European cops in mind who apply their minds thoroughly while the local attitude is, `We have registered your complaint. Thereon, the law will take its own course.’ In other words, say bye-bye to your stolen goods. Which John did, when he and wife flew back on Sunday with an unpleasant taste in their mouth.
