Expectations /hope are the living factor for humans.I live each day with hope and expectations, not from anyone but from myself. Yesterday night was such, I decided to live (please do not mind my bad grammar and spelling mistakes, they are not due to my shocked — state condition after my car accident, but usually I’m like this only)
Expectations /hope are the living factor for humans.
I live each day with hope and expectations, not from anyone but from myself. Yesterday night was such, I decided to live. Around 11:45 pm on 18th Feb 2002, I was in my car parked in a red signal and was banged from behind by a dump truck, which was in great speed.
The signal light had turned green and I switched on to first gear and as a habit I looked into the rear view mirror and within fraction of a second I saw cracks - my instincts made me switch on to the neutral gear and leave the brakes free. The truck smashed my car from behind and pushed the car ahead. I survived, along with my parents who were also there in the car. The truck stopped ahead on the left and the driver who must have been sure that noone must have survived this crash, had fled. I stalled the car applying the handbrakes and then tried to get out to catch the driver of the truck. But the automatic locking system in the car locked me inside. I quickly rolled down the window and then manually opened the door from the outside door latch. But by that time the driver had fled leaving the truck and the keys there. I called the police by then. Mobile phones- if used for better communication purposes, is I believe one of man’s greatest inventions. By that time I had called up my sister and friends, who had all come very fast. It was now around 1:00 am. I had problems first writing to friends who wouldn’t reply. I always thought “why should I write to them when they don’t reply to my mails, why should I care for them - if they are not replying to my 1000 mails - what I have got to do with them- they are not bothered about me anyways - They must be thinking, well this Prateek usually keeps on mailing us for no reason - he has no importance for himself - junk mails “ he’s a simple useless guy -no big shot or big famous guy - no Hrithik or Amitab ” no famous journalist or writer “ nor a big business man who could be useful to us - A friend is got to be useful or else no use.- if we don’t reply to him doesn’t make any difference to him, he’ll mail anyway”. Why? Thoughts do trouble me. “If my want to be a friend is not accomplished by me being a friend first, then my want is not to be a friend”. My existence does make a difference -some sense, to my friends, they were there, some with sleeping clothes and eyes, but there beside me believing in my existence - I was still alive for them. Not showing a sign of discomfort on their faces they made me comfortable, some took my parents home - some came with me to the police horror station. And finally came along with me to my house to bid me — the alive Prateek goodbye. It was morning around 4:00 am by then.
For me, my friends do make a difference .I believe them. My thoughts don’t trouble me anymore.
My parents were in a state of shock, so was I. I had my parents put in my friend’s car, who was so nice to bring it along with him. And myself, with my few friends and sister went to the police station to file a complaint. I, an obedient driver stopped at a red signal, I get banged from behind for no reason, I was told to go to the police station. at 3:00 am.
My thoughts were going crazy - where the hell I am. They ask me all crazy questions and I answered them in a state of shock. What gave me a jerk was when the senior inspector asks me “why did u stop at the signal so late , you shouldn’t have stopped” My mistake, my fault! I kept on answering. Somehow that process called “Panchnama” got over, for me it was “Panchatantra”. We are just fooling ourselves is what came to my mind.
The whole drama of me filing a complaint got over by some 3:00 am in the morning. I was allowed to take my car back to my place cause” the cops thought it was no use keeping it there at the station, but assured me that I will surely get my insurance.
The truck driver, the truck..where is he?
So me, after all this, drove back home. I was still shocked, let me get this clear,not by the accident.
19th morning came as fast as it could. I had to collect the TAD copy from the police station. TAD copy is the copy of complaint filed by me. You get it typed by a special typist from the police. “Money, get back. I'm all right Jack keep your hands off of my stack. Money, it's a hit. Don't give me that do goody good bullshit. I'm in the high-fidelity first class traveling set and I think I need a Lear jet.“ Lyrics by pink Floyd song ”money”
Money sure does make people react in a different way. I wait for some hours to get the complaint copy, which I had filed yesterday morning.I stop at the red signal- I get smashed by a truck from behind, I file a complaint, I have to wait for the complaint copy, which I only made. I was shocked, not by the accident. After some few hours of waiting, I have been very secretly told like in a James Bond movie, where a spy passes u a secret information - that if u need to get your TAD copy faster u have to have positive smile. SMILE ?? That was some news to me. Suddenly my views about the police change - all my wrong notions about the corrupt cops change - I am a new man - with a lot of confidence on my security system - the police department. I was proud I pay taxes. “Prateek they are asking for money to get the work done faster”, my journalist sister informs me, rather corrects my sudden confidence. I was again shocked, not by the accident. I stop at the red light, I get banged from a truck, I file a complaint, I wait for few hours to get a copy of my complaint, and now I have to pay for it -for my own complaint.My curiosity was killing me. Outside there was a board, which read “Hum Sab Ek Hain” which means, “We are all one”They are perfectly right, they are all in it together. My attempts to talk to the senior-most officer was foiled. I was shocked, not by the accident let me be clear again.
I take the TAD dream copy to the insurance guy who informs me very tactfully for some incentive surely, that I should bang my car few times more so that I can claim more money. I stop at the red signal, I get hit by a truck, I filed a complaint, I have to wait for hours for my complaint copy, I have to now pay for the copy of the complaint I made and now I have to damage my car more to get complete insurance”
My complete day was spent in this meaningless running around meaningless people, which is not over yet. I couldn’t go to office. Took my car to the local mechanic. He informs me that the damage could be repaired and the insurance could be claimed without getting me into any more trouble. Wow !! Now he tells me J, but we do learn from our mistakes - my mistake being .. “I stopped at the red signal, a truck smashes my car from behind, I filed a complaint, I had to stay in the police station till 3:00 am, I had to wait for the copy of my complaint, I had to pay for my complaint copy, then I been told by to damage my car more to get full insurance...’and now I could have avoided it if I had gone directly to my local mechanic. Funny the way world works. I remember not being brought up like this.
Anyways I miss my car.
- prats 20/2/2002
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