13.10.12

Breakfast at Baggikhana


My phone was ringing. It was a friend. I checked the time, 1: 36AM. “That idiot” I thought. I answered the call and just when I was about to shout at him, he said something happened to him. I straightened up and asked him what happened.  “I have been shut in the Jail. I was going back home and the traffic police caught me for MaPaSe (Drink and Drive). I tried to protest and they put me in the van instead”. He went on for a while but my mind went blur. What he was in Jail? JAIL? Isn’t that the place for criminals and murderers? I heard him call my name. I shuddered as he asked me to get 1000 bucks and come free him from the police station at Singhadurbar at 7 the next morning. I told him not to panic when my heart was about to explode itself. I hung up and laid straight up on my bed.

After a while I received a text that said, “Please get a thick jacket if possible, I am really cold.”
I felt so bad then I wanted to throw the blankets out but then I thought again, Why were the policemen crazy to lock my poor friend up when he was not even drinking? And as far as I knew him, he was the kind of guy who would stay out of trouble.

Next morning, I left home at 5: 30, just not to be late. With my ATM card in hand, I marched up to Singhadurbar from Sinamangal and walked half the way as there were literally no vehicles and it was dark. However, when I was halfway gone, I got a text from him saying, it might get as late as 8/9 AM. I sighed.

This was the first time I was inside the Police station. Lame as it might sound, there were policemen everywhere. Dressed in combat boots and smart Light-blue shirts. I wandered around for a bit and went outside for a cup of tea. As I sat in one of the dark shops that served “Tato tato Sel Roti and Chiya”, a bunch of cops came in for their own breakfast. Slowly sipping in to the horrible tea, the already so very bored version of me popped up a conversation with the cops present there.  I asked them what time the jailbirds would be brought to the Baggikhana to set them free. They eyed me down and asked me who was brought in, I told them my friend and before I could finish pronouncing the word, they exchanged sly smiles amongst each other and asked, “Boyfriend”? Policemen, I thought with a deep sigh.

By the time I was back to the Station, the inmates were brought over and I looked around for my friend. I then noticed some decent looking boys, and thought to myself, it was no time to check out boys but they sure do look like they are from good families. I spotted him- my friend and after filling up some forms and doing the needful, we headed out after his one hour-ed class. The day was forgotten and just a distant memory until last week.
So jumping on to what happened last week, I was out with friends and after a glass of Beer each and the delicious French Fries from BK’s we headed home. One friend left home on a cycle while the other friend offered to drop me home. Just around Thapathali, the traffic police gave us a signal to stop the bike. Without further questioning, the lady asked for the license. I thought it was just insane. Well, not as bad as getting locked up but, what was the blow-in machine for? And even if the machine did show some pointer, shouldn’t there be a limit up till which the driver was allowed to drink? It is bad- drinking and driving but shouldn’t there be a limit to that? USA allows up to around 4 points. Drinking a glass of beer can go up to 2 points.

The policemen dont care about the pointers and people dont care about gulping down the alcohol in Weekend's name. This is Nepal. 

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