Do you know who my Dad is?
Do you know who I am? Do you know who my Dad is? So what if I slapped that inspector?
Do you know who I am? Do you know who my Dad is? So what if I slapped that inspector? He was asking me questions like I had done something wrong. Nobody takes panga with me, got it? Do you know what I can do to you? One snap of my fingers, one phone call and I get you transferred to Sangli or Satara or some other godforsaken place. My Dad knows your boss, samjhe? He knows all the top cops, so beware!
Listen, what is your problem, we do this every Saturday night, okay? It’s called, Drag racing — my bro Jaggi in his Merc, my other bud, we call him Shuhm, he thinks he is Michael Schumacher, in his Audi and me in my BMW. Nine pm flag-off from Nariman Point, down Marine Drive then turn at Babulnath to Peddar Road, then Worli. Prabhadevi to Bandra, down Carter Road, end point is Shirley Rajan. Winner has to buy a round of drinks at Shiro. No Sea Link, no headlights, fourth gear, accelerator floored.
The Beemer tops at 200, no not kmph, I’m talking miles per hour. Were we drunk? No, no we don’t drink and drive, are you mad? This race needs total concentration. So I ran over a couple of these beggars, they shouldn’t have been sleeping on the pavement in the first place. They’re beggars, they’re not people. Okay, so they were labourers, same difference. We’ll give the widows some compensation.
What pisses me off is the bloody BMW is smashed up; I’ll have to use the Honda till the garage fixes it. Thank God it wasn’t the Porsche, the Lamborghini or the Jag. Dad would have definitely grounded me! My Dad’s on his way, he’ll sort out this stuff, he always does, he’s got the money, shitloads of it. Listen listen, don’t touch me, okay, my Dad owns most of new Bombay, we have factories in Dubai and Doha, got it? No, I will not lower my Oakley shades when I’m talking to you.
Boss, nothing will happen to me. I have 15 cases against me in court,not one has stuck. Who’s going to come forward in court? There was that one witness who dared to stand up against me last year when I ran over that shopkeeper, his son wanted to act smart, it was settled. Accha, wait, I totally forgot, I need to tweet to my 20,000 followers where I am. “The cops in Bandra Police Station, way more khadoos than Andheri, Prabhadevi, Tardeo and Mahalakshmi.” What police report do you want me to sign? That I wasn’t carrying a licence? How can I have one, I’m only sixteen, seventeen next June!
Didn’t I mention that I’m a minor? Sorry, I shouldn’t have wasted your time, Inspector Bhide, you know that nothing happens to us minors. The law can’t touch us. Can I leave now?”
Rahul da Cunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahuldacunha62 @gmail.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper.