An Encounter

It is not regular that we encounter a policeman in our daily lives. That day was one for a change. As the policeman settled himself down on a seat of the bus I was also travelling in, I decided to have a good look at him. He had boarded the bus carrying a long barrelled heavy gun and a leather bag with some items hidden in it. His uniform indicated that he should be from the lower ranks, perhaps a hawaldar. His body was rugged but strong; skin tanned and made coarse by the elements; and his hand bore marks of several cuts and bruises from the past. Somehow that brought respect in my heart for him. His cap fitted his gradually balding head very well, which he adjusted once in a while perhaps as a little self-indulgence he could afford. Act two began when his cell-phone rang. To my surprise, it was a touch-phone which he preserved well in a leather case. As he answered his phone there was something that was not sailing smooth. He was holding and speaking in his cell-phone as if one spoke on a Walkie-talkie! With one hand he held his heavy gun tight while with the other he struggled to manoeuvre his touch-screen cell-phone like a walkie-talkie. I could notice the other two men sitting behind him busy controlling their chuckles. After a while the object of my distraction, our policeman, reached his destination and left to get down. The other two men smiled looking at each other. It was interesting that men who perhaps knew nothing about guns could laugh at one who knew how to fire and shoot but won’t know how to handle a cell-phone! Oh man! Men and their machines…