Picture Perfect Not!
What you are about to read is a true story. And all the humour comes (for once) not at my expense but at that of the extremely adept (your first indication of any sarcasm in this blog!) police force.
Boy and I had spent a looooooong day taking pictures of a number of products for JLT. 34957895 pictures later, Boy was somewhat satisfied with his efforts (although I think he’s a better photographer than he gives himself credit for) and we called it a day. Boy decided to walk me home. Now let the record state that I’m no good at photography, which is why I love taking pictures of random trees in shadow and passing them off as works of art. Anyway, so it was twilight and I was taking pictures of and around the Parsi Gate at Breach Candy, when we were approached by the officer of a certain consulate in the region.
He told us that taking any pictures of the consulate was forbidden and since we were seen taking pictures in the area, they needed to check our cameras. Whichever snaps were ‘compromising security’ in his opinion were deleted. Then he asked us to give him the following details – name, address, passport number and so on. Well, Boy declined on the grounds that being Indian citizens, we’re not entitled to show our passport or our passport numbers to anyone. After all, we were just taking some f***ing pictures… we weren’t killing anyone!
After a couple minutes argument, we were taken to see the police in charge at the consulate. Amid a heated discussion about the Constitution and our right to the pertinent information regarding the whole procedure, we gave all our contact details. Some more Marathi later (I don’t understand one word of it!) they wanted our photographs for their internal database. Wtf? So Boy was taking care of it, when my Mom called, all hysterical about where I was. I tried cutting the call, but she got even more frantic and when I told her what happened, she was there faster than I could say well, anything!
Boy and me were talking things out with the cops when my Mom came into the scene, all guns blazing, with a shoot-now-talk-later attitude. She screamed at every person there, officer or not – how dare they question her baby like an ordinary criminal? – and she got me and Boy out of there. Then Dad came onto the picture and diffused the situation a little. He couldn’t do anything about my Mom though. Oh no! She screamed at the two of us – “Why didn’t you call me before? We could have helped you! We live just down the road! You’ll are such fools!” and so on. I was quite alright before, but seeing Mum so panicky really got me all worked up. And poor Boy! He’s never dealt with my mother before and this is not how I’d wanted to do the introductions!
Anyway, everything was quite alright in the end. But my point is how dare we be asked for our passports in our own country? Digressing a little, at dinner my brother was studying for a Civics test and he was trying very hard to learn up the exact words of the Preamble to the Constitution. But of what use is that when hardly any people are aware about their rights to begin with? I never knew about the whole passport thing; Boy had told me about it. What good is remembering the first line of the Preamble when most of us are unaware about our basic rights?
So anyway, back to the point. I’m glad that the police are taking an active role in security. I really am. But why only for the consulate? Why not for the stations and bus stops and other public places? Maybe there’s a whole chapter on International Diplomacy that I’m missing out on. Maybe I’m not educated enough about the situation to comment on it. But hey, everyone’s entitled to their opinions… at least for now!