The story of my stolen Pajero is really old hat; but interesting all the same. Friends still want to know what happened and how we got our Pajero back. We’ve got it back! What a relief!! Getting it back was quite an adventure. Easier for us because we’re privileged because of our celebrity status and used our contacts with the ‘higher-ups’ who pressurised the police. There are 475 Pajeros which have still not been traced. So let’s start at the very beginning. On the 3rd of May at around 7 in the morning my building watchman asked me whether I had sent my Pajero with my driver and I said I hadn’t. He said with a deadpan expression that it must have been stolen then. Sure enough, the gate to our building compound was wide open, with no traces of a lock on it. And our red and white Pajero which occupied most of the place in the compound wasn’t there anymore. My husband, who was going to Wai for a shooting, delayed his going and we rushed to the police station. Our rush was quite unnecessary, I realised, because our police were in no hurry at all. First, the policeman on night duty was woken up by us, a crime more severe than the theft of a Pajero. So the inspector looked at us accusingly throughout. We, the stealers of his sleep, were not to be forgiven. Then followed a bit of a debate about which of the two inspectors would take down our FIR. Then the one who got tired of the charade first pulled out the register reluctantly. He asked a junior officer to clean the desk thoroughly, taking up another 20 minutes. The Pajero had gone for a good 2 or perhaps 3 hours till then. It could have been in Gujarat already! The inspector began writing out the FIR painfully, painstakingly. He kept on referring to the police manual for suitable phrases to describe the theft, translating what I was saying in simple Marathi into an unrecognisable language. The FIR took two hours to write. Half an hour into it, I ventured to ask whether sending out some sort of alert to all check posts would be a good idea and would perhaps increase our chances of getting our car back! The policeman looked as if he would have liked to put me in the lock up for the crime of suggesting something remotely connected to solving the crime. He said looking at me angrily, with eyes still dull with the interrupted sleep, “FIR aadhi, mag pudhchi kaarvaai”. Meaning literally, “FIR first, then the next procedure”. And so, the ‘next procedure’ only began two and a half hours after we had stepped into the police station; and possibly five hours after our Pajero was stolen. The ‘next procedure’ was of course the aforementioned alert that had to be sent out. This included all the details of the car, especially the chassis number and engine number. There was a minor discussion of about 20 minutes to decide where this call was to be made. Then a 10 minute search for the required number. Then another wait of 45 minutes, because the number was not reachable. And so a lot of time had been given to the thieves to escape and cross the border of Maharashtra into either Gujarat or Madhya Pradesh. Then the shift changed, a new set of policeman had come by then and had to be filled in on what our case was. After awhile they sent two hawaldars with us to take down notes from the scene of the crime as well as round up the usual suspects….watchmen, drivers etc. We trust our drivers since they’ve been with us for many years; so we began trying to save them from getting a thrashing from the police. They were let off with a few rounds of slaps and ‘dandaas’ because of our interference. In the days that followed a new set of hawaldars would come sincerely to our compound and stare at the place where our car was parked, as if that empty space would be coaxed into giving the description of the thieves just by looking at it intently for half an hour. They also asked the same set of people, including me, the same questions over and over again as if they expected different, creative answers each time. And so we lost hope of ever retrieving our car. We made a fuss in the press, in the hope that someone somewhere might spot the car and let us know. We also called up some ‘higher ups’ in the political class who happily put a lot of pressure on the police. But nearly a month went by and we had no word of any progress. Then one day I was sitting in CCD sipping coffee when my phone rang and an Inspector from Jalpaigurhi, West Bengal called to ask whether I owned a Pajero which was stolen! My joy knew no bounds. I couldn’t believe that the car was found. The police from Jalpaigurhi had impounded the car for lack of documents when it was coming into India from Bhutan. The thieves who were caught were the fourth pair in the chain of thieves. They had crossed over to Bhutan because diesel is cheaper there than in India. We’ve always been told, “Laalach buri balaa hai”, but the thieves obviously hadn’t heard of that. So now that we knew where the car was, we had to begin the process of getting it back. Not only was a police team from Mumbai sent off to get the car back, but also get the thieves, against whom a complaint would be registered in Mumbai. So a posse of policeman left Mumbai for Jalpaigurhi ‘fully loaded’ with ‘all’ essentials. If you are thinking that this happened quite smoothly you are quite wrong! We happened to know a DIG in Kolkatta who expedited the process and coordinated with the Mumbai police, who overworked with festival duty, VIP duties and the burden of accepting bribes every two minutes; are always less than keen to do anything quickly! Mini celebrations had already begun at home in anticipation of the prodigal Pajero. The Pajero, the police and the thieves (handcuffed to two policemen) were having mini adventures of their own. The Jalpaigurhi police and court worked at a speed we are not used to back in Mumbai. The Mumbai police reached Jalpaigurhi and were handed over the car and thieves within a span of two days. They left for Kolkatta immediately from where the police team would split in two; one team would drive the Pajero back and the other would get the the thieves (handcuffed to them), by train. But before reaching Kolkatta, the police and thieves were nearly ambushed and killed by naxalites in the forests of West Bengal. Only driving like crazy, away from the raging guns and the excellent condition of our car saved the travellers in the car. Observe how the police had to flee. The visual makes for a good R K Laxman comic strip! Finally reaching Kolkatta the police and the thieves dined and stayed in a hotel room where they almost became friends because of their proximity. Life’s a great leveller! Turned out one of them was a Nepali national and the other a member of RJD ( Laloo’s party) from Patna (why am I not surprised!!!). Finally after a month of the car being taken away, it was brought back safely to Mumbai and kept at the Versova police station. My husband went over to see the car and what condition it was in. Two people handcuffed to some policeman greeted him with folded hands while passing by. The policeman introduced my husband to the thieves of our car and they told my husband how much they loved his acting in films and on TV. My husband found himself treating them like any other fans and only stopped himself from taking a photo when he remembered that they were the cause of quite a lot of grief for us. Now if you think that we would have got our car back soon, you are wrong! If the Mumbai police are reluctant to solve and wrap up cases; our courts take the cake, biscuit and all confectionaries put together in trying to keep cases from being solved. First, I was asked to appear in the railway court in Andheri , before a judge, to identify myself as the owner of the car. The lady judge told me very politely that I needn’t appear in court henceforth till the case against the thieves doesn’t come up, which is when I would be required as a witness. After ten days the judge had been shunted off to some other court and another judge had taken over. Instead of starting off from where the previous judge had left, he started from the beginning of each case, hoping to make money I guess! So the next time my case came up in court the new judge reprimanded my advocate for not getting me along and so another date 15 days later was given. Meanwhile my husband was a regular at Versova police station. He would go there, take a good look at our car, share some chai with whoever was on duty and then come back. The car was being washed and looked after extremely well. We were also updated on how our car was stolen in the first place. The police told us the names of two men who worked for a big gang, who were professional Pajero lock openers. They were in demand because they hacked the locking system with their laptops! We asked the police if they would be arrested as well, since they have all the details with them. The police laughed and said that that just wouldn’t be possible since they were a part of a very big and successful gang. As if that absolved them of all their crimes! I was left wondering why that should be a reason NOT to arrest them! In fact, wouldn’t this be a good chance to bust the gang! Obviously not in Mumbai! A lot of police palms and political palms are greased by big gangs which are then allowed to conduct their nefarious activities peacefully while the peace of the poor common citizens of Mumbai is robbed. The next time I appeared in court, the judge who refused to budge 15 days ago, looked at me with disdain (as if I was the one who had stolen my own car) and dismissed my presence with quick flicks of his wrist, the way we shoo away crows! He proceeded to reprimand my advocate for bringing me unnecessarily and promptly gave another date. This oscillation in his behaviour left us flabbergasted! I could hear Sunny Deol’s voice going “taareekh pey taareekh, taareekh pey taareekh” and completely identified with it. We realised the judge wanted some kickback. But I do not bribe, I do not like bribes, I do not give bribes! I decided I’ll wait for my car forever but won’t bribe this ‘blot- on- the- judicial system’ judge! And so it was that many appearances, non appearances, date postponements happened; till the judge realised he’s not going to get anything out of us and he might as well hand over the car. Finally, after a month in the Versova police station our car was handed over to us. Something which the Jalpaigurhi courts did within a day, our Mumbai courts took a full month. No wonder our cases continue forever. The Pajero came home with much fanfare, but the post script of the court story still remains! The trial against our thieves began about 20 days after we got our Pajero home. I had to appear as a witness. I reached at the time that was given to me. The thieves were to be brought before the court in a police van. The case was adjourned and a fresh date given because of unavailability of the police van. Three dates have gone by and the police van has been unavailable each time. If the thieves aren’t presented in court the fourth time as well, they will automatically get bail. And once they get bail, they’ll go back to the place where they belong, merge with their loved ones and will never be heard of ever again. The court will send summons, but no one will answer. That’s the way cases are fought in our courts. Rumour has it, that the police are bribed by the thieves to make vans ‘unavailable’ for transfer so that they are let off on bail. If that’s the case, that’s shameful! If there’s a genuine lack of vans for the number of cases in court, it’s a shameful ignorance of logistics. And if there are vans a plenty, but they are used for VIP bandobast, festival duty, for fathers-in-law of IGs or family members of other higher ups; then it’s a wonder that anybody in Mumbai is convicted at all. I rest my case!
