A Chance Encounter

It once happened that I was traveling from Delhi to Lucknow, in the First Class AC coach, of the Lucknow Mail. I had boarded the train half an hour before its scheduled departure, and made myself comfortable on the lower berth. I was sincerely hoping for my co-passenger to be either Aishwarya Rai or to be her incarnation. I had just closed my eyes, when, out of the blue, many policemen barged into my compartment and began rummaging around.

“Hey you! Stand up,” shouted one of them.

I immediately sprang to my feet, while another ordered, “Stand on your feet and hands up!!”

I was confused, so I politely said, “Sir, I’m already standing on my feet. How can I stand on my feet again, without sitting down??”

“Shut up and don’t act smart.” prompt came the reply.

"But what have I done?” I questioned meekly.

“Behen Jee is traveling in this compartment. She has the upper berth, so we need to make sure that everything is in order before she boards the train. Show your identity card,” he demanded.

I hurriedly produced my driver’s license and he kept staring at my photo. I knew I was in trouble. “You look like a bloody terrorist!” he remarked and the rest of them nodded in agreement.

My heart sank. I remembered all the Hindi movies I had watched. A shiver ran down my spine, when I recalled all the shady dialogues I’d have to hear, if they arrested me for no reason. After all, every hero is falsely convicted and sent to jail. I even remembered how the hero, finds a long bamboo in the middle of the jail, and does a pole vault to jump over the 30 feet high prison wall. I began to shudder more when I realized that even if I did find a bamboo, I wouldn’t be able to jump over the wall because I weighed twice as much as the hero. I began to curse myself for not heeding to my father’s advice and shedding a lot of weight..

“Sir I am not a terrorist. Maybe I just look like one,” I said, “and I am going to Lucknow on official work. See, I handle the finances of Lifeline Group of Hospitals.” Saying this, I thrust my employer’s identity card to bolster my statement.

One of the policemen turned to me and said, “Shut up! Remove your shoes. Nobody is allowed to wear shoes in the presence of Behen Jee. Take off your glasses too. It needs to be checked for bombs,” saying this ,he pulled off my spectacles.

“But sir, I am as blind as a bat without my spectacles and in any case I need my footwear so that I can relieve myself, during the journey. You certainly can not expect me to visit the bathroom, barefooted, can you?” I protested “I am a free citizen of India and the freedom of movement is my birth right. As my shoes form an integral part of my movement to the bathroom, thus I am free to wear my shoes. Yes sir, even I know my rights,” I announced, feeling good that I still remembered bits of class eighth civics.

“Besides,” I continued, “if your Behen Jee doesn’t like shoes, then why should my shoes suffer? My sisters think that all police officers with a tummy like yours should be lined up and shot dead. Does it mean that their whim should be satisfied?? Of course not! By the way, your tummies are equally enormous. Are all of you brothers?”

I had just begun to get acquainted with the police officers, when in walked a strange looking buffalo. It wasn’t your regular sized buffalo. It was much smaller, and was probably wearing a uniform. I could have described it better had I been wearing glasses. It seemed to sniff around, and then settled on the sofa.

I whispered to the police officer standing next to me, “Sir, I had seen many sniffer dogs before, but I must admit that it is for the first time that I am seeing a buffalo being employed to sniff out contrabands. And may I congratulate you for training it so well. It is remarkable to see that it actually knows how to sit on a sofa. I must say that I am impressed.”

“Shut up, you fool. She is Behen Jee,” he replied.

“Aha,” thought I, “so Behen Jee is the name of this buffalo.”

I said, “Sir, does the buffalo … err... Behen Jee have a valid ticket? I am not sure if they are allowed to travel in the first class compartments of the railways.”

“She is a VIP. She doesn’t need a ticket to travel. If she gets angry, the government at the centre will be upset,” said the officer, in a suppressed voice.

I couldn’t understand how the anger of the buffalo, could be related to the stability of the central government. So I began to think, “Maybe Manmohan Singh drinks the milk of the buffalo Behen Jee, and if Behen Jee gets angry, she might not let anyone milk her. Thus, there would be no milk for our prime minister. If there would be no milk, then Manmohan Singh won’t get his morning tea. And thus he wouldn’t be able to wish a very cheerful good morning to Mrs. Sonia Gandhi. If Mrs. Gandhi doesn’t hear a happy good morning, then she will be too angry to give out the daily orders to the prime minister. No daily orders, means no progress for the nation!!!” Everything began to make sense now. I understood the importance of Behen Jee.

“Funny, how a buffalo controls the Fate of our nation!” I exclaimed.

“Stop saying ‘buffalo’ out loud. Her name is ….,” he was cut short by Behen Jee, who let out a loud Moooo.

“Yes Ma’am. Yes.” cried all in unison, as if understanding every moo of Behen Jee.

I was immediately handed my spectacles, which I put on eagerly, to see the most extra-ordinary buffalo in the world.

The next thing I remember was, seeing Ms. Mayawati seated on the sofa, and my luggage being hurled out of the coach. I followed next!!

Morals of the story:

a) Keep your amazement to yourself. There is absolutely no need to share it with anyone, least of all, the police.

b) Aishwarya Rai will never run away from her shoots, only to be your co-passenger. Real life isn’t Bollywood, you see.

c) Evidently, Manmohan Singh doesn’t drink Behen Jee’s milk.!!