To The Phone I Loved, and Lost!
A Nexus of theft and negligence.
Sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair in a sparsely furnished reception room at Kashmere Gate metro police station, I was waiting for my turn to lodge a complaint for theft of my mobile phone. Sitting behind the desk were a young constable and lady sub inspector. From the looks of it, the lady seemed to find it hard to remain silent and hide her annoyance with the people walking in to lodge petty complaints, and the constable, from his soft looks and quiet mannerism, seemed to be an unseasoned recruit. She asked me to wait for my turn, which, I duly agreed to and sat on a corner chair. But, she seemed not satisfied with my meek acceptance of the fact that I have to wait, for she continued- “Ab dekho aap shor bhi machaoge jaldi karne ko toh bhi hamara computer ek baar mein ek hi report register kar pata hai”…The not so welcoming reception and the discomfort in maintaining my position at that antique chair made me shift my position and look out of the open door, where an old dog with dirty fur lay near the welcome mat, and in that moment I went in the flashback mode, pondering on the sequence of events which brought me here…
*2 months earlier*
It was my birthday, and after screwing up my last phone, I kept giving subtle hints to my near and dear ones to gift me a new phone, which, deliberately or not, they seemed not to notice. So, finally I gifted myself a shiny new Nexus 4… Happy B’day to me!
*Fast forward to 2 days before the visit*
Location: New Delhi railway metro station
Time: 10.30 PM
Unlike the every day metro commuters, who use a smart card to travel, I was dumb enough not to get one. So, every time I take metro ride, I buy the token from the counter. Same was the story tonight, except that when I turned back from the counter to secure my wallet in the pocket, I noticed the missing phone…. Alas! some needy/greedy bastard has stolen myyyy preeciiious… At that moment I realized how the poor Gollum must have felt when Bilbo Baggins stole his ring. Anyway, despite my good instincts and several others advising me against lodging an actual complaint, for, no good or recovered phone has ever come out of one, I still decided to give it a try. If for nothing then for the sake of the experience, and indeed experience I got.
*Present Day*
I snapped out from my train of thoughts by the voice of lady SI referring me as “gareeb balak”. Apparently there was this young guy sitting there before me, who lost his phone that morning, and he happened to have some good connections at the top and wanted to see the cctv footage. However, the lady SI was not pleased with this show of authority and was explaining what will happen if everyone starts asking for footage, like this “gareeb balak” sitting here who has no connections. I looked at my Allen Solly shirt and Blackberry trouser in despise, for it made me look “gareeb”, or perhaps it was my face, or maybe my phone, which was only a Nexus 4 compared to his iPhone 5. I guess I will never know what made me look “gareeb” that day.
Finally after much ado, it was my turn to write a formal letter to the SHO. Lady SI was very particular in telling me to mention the phone as lost, not stolen. For a lost phone only requires a statement of concern from police, but a stolen phone, that requires them to get off their lazy bums and actually show some action in the form of report to the magistrate (Or something like that.). I decided to play smart by phrasing it in a way that makes it sound like a lost object complaint on the outset, but, actually describes the theft. It turns out she was quick to spot it, and with utter contempt for my playfulness, immediately passed on the complaint to the station in-charge.
Moments later, I was summoned by the SHO. For a minute I thought maybe here’s a senior office willing to take me seriously. I mean with cameras all around the metro station, tracking a thief and catching him in action should not be that difficult for our decorated Delhi police, but the moment I entered his spacious office, I could see from his face that he was not very please with my writing either. There on his desk, weighed down by the glass paper weight lay my application, and for the first time in many years I felt like I have been teleported back in time to the principal’s office, who has caught me with the chit I prepared for the exam. Over the next half an hour in that office, I got enlightened about a lot many things. First of all it was made clear that pick pocketing is the result of negligence of the owner, and does not amount to theft. He clarified this with an example of a couple, who kept their phone on the counter at Dominos pizza… “ab yahan to saale chor hote hi hain, koi le gaya phone. Ab batao isme hum kya karein” … “Bees logon ka staff hai, 2500 phone khoye hain, 3 logon ko hamesha front desk pe rehna hota hai. Kahan se dhundhenge phone?”… He consolidated his point by giving example of AIIMS doctors who give the date of surgery after 2 years to a patient who is critical now, just because they are equally short staffed. He continued.. “Main toh khud metro mein bahot travel karta hun, par ek haath hamesha pocket pe hota hai. Khud dhyan na do toh aur log toh le hi jayenge samaan”…At that point I realized how wrong I was to bother them with my petty complaint, specially with that resource crunch, when they have other important cases to solve and the fact that I was careless throughout.
After the initial ice between us was broken, and we (read I) compromised on filing a lost and not theft report, I was walked through the whole process of how the phone is tracked, and why I should not keep my hopes high as they couldn't track their ACP’s phone when it was lost/stolen. Also, if someone is using the stolen phone in a different state, then, even if the phone is tracked, sending a 3 man search and recovery party via train in second ac coach is a lot of expense for govt. And he reiterated on how managing that with 20 odd people in his team is out of question. But then, he was only following the standard police procedure around the world, this was made clear by the example of how police in UK easily registers a theft complaint, as all the phones are insured there, and FIR is merely means to get the insurance claim. The police never actually has to take any action or attempt the recovery. Had it been the same in India, he would have gladly lodged the theft report, but I guess I failed here also, in not getting the phone insured. The discussion then shifted to how the gangs use kids in these incidences, and he was quick to show some pictures of these kids who pick pocket travelers and whose photo he has saved in his phone and shows them to complainants like me. How he got to those kids, and why their photos were in his phone, but they were not caught is beyond the scope of this post. He told me to take a good look at photo and be careful if I see those or any other similar looking kids around me in the metro. After a quick sermon on how it’s not advisable to carry expensive phones, and seeking some career advice for his son in the engineering field, I was sent back to the reception desk to complete the remaining formality.
Back at the reception, the lady SI seemed more cheerful now. She was busy telling a young college going kid, stories about her visit to her sister’s place, and how the kids there love her for she always has something to eat in her bag. With that she offered apple slices to him, who seemed more interested in following up on his lost phone status, and was naive enough to expect a recovery within 5 days. I was also offered a slice, which I dutifully accepted along with a piece of paper (non cognizable FIR), and instructions on how I can follow up every month to get the status updates, or even come down to the station at the 2nd Monday of every month to get a report on progress. Throughout the episode I was only referred by the alias of “balak”, which kind of made me remember Dr. House, who used to treat his cases by calling the patients only as the kid, the boy, the girl etc. and never tried to know their names or connect emotionally for that affects the judgement. Thereafter we bid farewell, with both of us secretly hoping never to see each others face again.
As I walked out of that building, which looked like it has been taken from a primary school of a district and converted into a police station, I knew that this piece of paper is only good enough to help me replace the lost sim and get the number reactivated. But, somewhere deep inside it felt as if now I have performed the last rites for the departed phone properly, and somewhere, on someone else’s desk it lays, resting in piece(s)… Amen!
