The silver lining

Although statistics have finally caught up with me and I am lighter by Rs 100, following my determined refusal to defend the erosion of m...

Although statistics have finally caught up with me and I am lighter by Rs 100, following my determined refusal to defend the erosion of my fundamental right to use whatever kind of film I choose on my car windows, I must thank the cops for making it the best Christmas so far for my six-year-old son.

Not only that, the female cop, when depriving me of my tax-paid money, was actually very polite; she said she was sorry to do what she was doing but knew I would understand that duty was duty and that if I chose to appear in court I could do so. I looked at her uniform again. Maybe she was new to the force, I thought, accounting for these traces of courtesy. I reassured her she was doing a fine job, that because of her and her ilk who had levied fines on window films, my son had the best Christmas gift ever. And that if every state police was as keen as ours to implement such harebrained schemes, all the children in this country could have great festival gifts.

There was a puzzled look on her face. Maybe shethought I was mad. After all, what8217;s Santa got to do with cops. That8217;s perhaps what you are also thinking. Well, it8217;s all a matter of how you look at things.

When the announcements were first made that the use of dark film on cars had been banned, there was a debate in the house on the advisability of continuing with the illegal commodity in our car. 8220;It8217;s an affront to my fundamental right or those that you have still allowed me to retain,8221; I told the missus. 8220;And what about those fines you will have to pay?8221; she enquired. 8220;Do you realise that for each one of them, you could buy two GI Joes for the kid?8221; Though this went on for some time, the argument was ultimately decided in my favour since a the cops in her esteem figure even lower than me, just about above the earthworm, and therefore, according to her, are least worth fighting over; and, b if I were by chance to land in the cooler also, it wouldn8217;t be much of an inconvenience, as I was of little help anyway.

Bravado was OK but what wasimportant was to determine what chance I had of escaping the long, though in most cases spiral, arm of the law. Simple, said an old classmate, who not having got a job now runs a flourishing competitive math coaching business. Given the number of cars with dark film and the depleted force available after meeting the more onerous cause of VIP security, burglar chases and shootouts, accompanying convicts to the courts and losing them, etc, the chances of your getting nabbed are less than one per cent, which means about once in a hundred days. So if you were to save one rupee a day in a piggy bank, chances are that in the long run you will be able to manage without any tears.

I decided to be even smarter and deposit Rs 10 in the piggy bank every day rather than the one rupee my statistical friend had advised me to. Any money saved in the process would go to the GI Joes my wife thought I could never buy for the kid. By the time I was actually hauled up by the lady cop, it was closer to a year rather than the100 days probability dictated. And my son got a bonanza in the bargain. Santa, he feels has been over-generous this year or he probably drank the same stuff Daddy did on the previous eve.

But that8217;s not all I have to thank the cops for. If the dark-film line of thinking persists in the force, I am sure to hit the jackpot. A friend and I have already finished the design of a double glass window in which both the glasses operate separately. Yes, you8217;ve guessed it, one of the glasses is coloured. So you can have the dark glasses and still follow the law as and when required. But as you rush to the mechanic, be warned, the device is on the verge of being patented.