I feel proud to say that, I refused to BRIBE an inspector.Though it is not something out of the box, at the same time it is not routine either. How many of we bribed  police men to avoid hefty traffic fines? Even I did! But, not this time.

January 18th, I booked my slot to get a permanent driving licence. It is not exaggeration to say that in our local RTA office you find more brokers than normal people. People here are so lazy(not exactly, but busy) to stand in line and take the pain of filling in the applications.

There is some magic in this RTA office. I wonder about the intelligence these employees over here posses( more powerful than any barcode scanner). I’l tell you why and how.

Every counter over here is accessed only through a rat hole which is dug into a clean glass window. The guy on the other side with typical spectacles who rarely stares at ones face is busy glancing at the application form and copywriting the info into the system. But, B-U-T there are some hands over here which do not need any particulars! People with those hands are neatly called BROKERS. Excuse me! I am not making a mockery of the institution. The situation has decently improved though. But, the broker ZAMANA still prevails. That is the 1st stage of getting a driving licence. Thank the almighty i made it to the second stage in one sitting!

Here comes the crucial stage. Practical Driving TEST. It’s a test not on your driving ability but on your communication skills. It tests how better you understand the humans emotion for the urge of money. How best you deliver it!

Well I took the test, came out with a huge smile thinking that I drove carefully slowly and more importantly followed every single rule. This celebration of mine was obstructed by a constable who right away asked me to come after 10 days.

What the F. I asked him the reason. He said that I missed a track!  I was dumb struck I argued with him that I’ve done everything according to the book. But of no use. He took my father away, Woho I get it his hand started itching. My dad came back and told how giving  500 rupees to the constable would make me virtually complete the MISSED track and get my driving licence. If it was old me my hand straight away would reach my pocket for a 500 note. No , not this time! NOT AGAIN! Defiantly not NOW!

I jogged towards the constable, I shouted that I won’t pay a penny to him. I shouted right into HIS FACE! Yeah Right into his face, which drew attention of other people. He was on the Backfoot pretending that he has no idea on what i was shouting about. With all my documents in hand I stood there and again reinstated that I wont be going unless I get another chance to drive on the track(I want to prove myself, I don’t want to get a licence straight away!) My father had soothing words, the constable had warning words other people had Indian Juggard words(let go) to say to me. But I had only one word. Why the fuck did the constable asked me to bribe? Why am I not getting my duly deserved licence? I just had one word to say, give me another chance(if you think i failed in the 1st one).

And that’s how I got the 2nd chance. People, I’ve got only one thing to say, don’t be shy and afraid to stand out if there no mistake of yours if you are being denied of your rights. The era of giving roses and changing people is over. it’s the era of speaking out! Standing for what you believe in!..

..out