5 minutes reading time
It's way past midnight of March 8th now. Sitting in Chennai.
I reached Chennai Central around nine in the evening. Came down to stay at Amul Dappa's room for the night. That's not his real name, but that's what I'm calling him here. He rents a tiny place that's apparently owned by the amazing actor Kovai Sarala.
Got out of Central, hopped on a couple of buses, and finally dropped down at a stop from where I could just walk to his building.
I was walking down the street. Barely five minutes in.
A police jeep screeched to a halt right next to me. Two cops leaned out, staring me down like I had just robbed a bank. Rude as fuck right from the first second.
"Who are you? What are you doing in Chennai at this hour?"
Of course, the convo was in Tamil, with what we say as "Vaada Poda", but my stupid ass struggles to write Tamil.
I told them I came for an interview and that I don't live in Chennai. They didn't care.
"Get in the jeep."
No questions answered, no explanations given. Just forced into the back of the jeep like cattle and hauled off to the station. R5 Virugambakkam.
Inside the station, the atmosphere was thick with cheap sweat and petty intimidation. They asked me to sit on a bench and they were talking many things. Then they talked about me for a few seconds. One cop looked at me and started laying it on thick.
"Are you part of a robbery gang? So many robberies happening around here lately. Call your friend right now. He has to come here and write a letter promising he'll take full responsibility if you do any illegal stuff. How can he let you stay in his room? It's not allowed."
I called Amul Dappa. Told him to come down to R5.
While I was waiting on a hard wooden bench, another cop walked in. Looked at me with pure disgust.
"Yaaru ivan?"
"He was roaming around the road, we picked him up," the first cop replied.
The new guy turned to me, barking. "Yaaru da neenga ellam. Ellam enga usura edukka kelambi vandureenga. What's your name? Where are you staying?"
I gave him my name. Repeated that I came to Chennai for an interview tomorrow.
He scoffed, scanning me up and down. "Interview varra latchanama ithu? Look at you, some old faded vetti, rubber slippers. What's in the bag?"
"Clothes for the interview tomorrow."
"Where is the interview? Write down the address. Show proof you actually have an interview." Then he turned to another constable standing nearby. "Yov, check if there are any old pending cases. Put one on him if needed."
He was trying to intimidate me, obviously. But still, what the fuck?
I reached into my bag, pulled out the phone, showed the email. I told him the interview was at IIT Madras.
"IIT la enna interview?" No vada poda. His tone shifted. It was the very first sentence out of his mouth without "da" or that barking, condescending bite.
I told him it was just for an MBA admission. He asked if I am studying there. I clarified that it's just an interview and I probably wouldn't even join, but just wanted to see how the faculty and campus were before deciding. Was just being polite with my stupid Kongu Tamil.
Then he asked where I work currently. I told him I work at IBM in Bangalore.
"Thambi, enna neenga," he said, suddenly all gentle and paternal. "Intha time la ippadiya varuveenga? You should dress nicely when you come out. You could wear a pant and proper slippers. Why rubber slippers?"
From suspect in a robbery gang to "thambi" in ten seconds, all because of an IIT letterhead and three letters: I-B-M.
What the fuck. So we people without IIT or IBM jobs can't roam the streets?? Only middle class and rich can roam? I was furious inside. Much more than before. Why aren't you being rude anymore? All because I have some stupid soul sucking job and interview for a course that needs my parents' decade of earnings as fee??
By that time Amul Dappa arrived. He happens to know a few police officers, so he made a quick call. The cops at the desk immediately backed off. "Okay okay, leave. Be careful next time."
Police suck.
Those cunts were so aggressively rude to me simply because I was walking down a Chennai street wearing a red ochre vaetti and rubber slippers.
What if I couldn't afford anything else? Or what if that's just how I am every single day, and that's how I prefer to dress?
I dress like this in Bangalore all the time. Not once has anyone questioned me or picked me up off the street. On holidays when I can't sleep because of my night shift cycle, I walk the Bangalore roads at two in the morning wearing the exact same vaetti and rubber slippers. Nobody bothers me.
What is so special about Chennai that walking in a vaetti at night gets you hauled into a police station?
And I don't even have to be rich. Just because they sniffed out that I might be middle class, they dropped the "vada poda" and switched to "thambi." I am not middle class, btw. How great would it be if I were actually rich?
I hate this hypocrisy. All are equal before the law, my foot. I don't know. Maybe TN police just suck. Or maybe just these individuals.
Reminds me of how the court acquitted Gopalakrishna Naidu and his men in the Keelavenmani massacre case, deciding that rich landlords couldn't possibly have walked to the village to burn forty-four people alive. Indeed, not everyone is equal before the law.