I answer the door and
find this hulking policeman standing there, with a writing pad and pen in his
hands. He looks the pleasant sort and smiles before he tells me that he’s here
because of some sort of security drive to check if anyone lives alone. Er, I
do, I say quickly. Tch, let me finish, he says and smiles. We’re
checking if you have tenants or an unverified servant or if an old person lives
alone in the house, he says. I shake my head to all and he nods and starts
scribbling something on his pad. Then, almost as though struck by this stunning
realisation, he says almost disbelievingly, Not married? I know what’s
coming and I laugh and shake my head. Why, he asks. I laugh politely
once again because, really, what am I expected to say? Any problem? he
asks in a manner that could imply, at once, that (a) I was married once but I
am now divorced (b) I have a personality problem because of which I’m not quite
eligible (c) I have some physical problem that’s proving to be a hindrance (d)
Who knows, maybe all of the above! No, just,..I say and shrug, not quite
being able to smile as sunnily now. He’s nothing if not persistent. But, you
should...marriage is a must. You should, he says, wrapping up and moving
on.
Argh!
Is all this part of a policeman’s job profile these days?! Don’t they have
crooks to catch