My trouble making baby sister lost her phone and she was stubborn about getting a duplicate SIM over a new one. I figured out she wanted to make it easy for her boyfriends. A very understanding sister that I am, I obliged.
So I called “sometimes really annoying” Vodafone customer service. The lady on the phone insisted that I file a FIR to acquire a duplicate SIM. Although surprised, I educated her on, how privileged Vodafone guys were to have me as a customer, she didn’t give a hoot. I threatened to drop their service; she seemed unscathed with my attempt. I asked for her supervisor, she was reluctant. Eventually I gave up and she won.
I went to the nearest police station to file a FIR. This was my first time, I was very nervous and felt like I was a dangerous criminal myself. I approached the sub-inspector and told him in a voice that sounded like as if I was speaking for the first time ever,” my sister lost her cell phone in an auto-rickshaw and I want to file a FIR to get a duplicate SIM.” He burst out in gales of-deep-throated-laughter. He called his colleague and shared my situation with him as a big joke right in front of me. I was mortified with their behavior but helplessly stood still in front of them.
So the kind colleague told me, I would not need a FIR and asked me to fetch a paper to write a letter.
Excited with the thought of writing a letter, I decided to impress the sub-inspector and the colleague with my letter writing skills; not realizing last I wrote a letter in my sixth grade annual exams.
I scratched my head, cleared the dirt under my nail and began writing the letter with great determination. After 10 minutes of looking thoughtfully into the air and back into the paper, I gave him my letter with a satisfactory smile. He took my letter, rolled his eyes through it, rumpled it and aimed it directly into the Paan stained, dirty-looking dustbin. My face fell at once and I almost cried.
The colleague asked me to find another white sheet. He said “I will tell, you write” and dictated the letter busy picking his nose and fastening the nose stuff to the wooden desk.
He transformed my situation into a fiction and made me write his own version. “Lost in Auto-rickshaw” developed into “lost in bus”, “cell phone lost two days back” turned into “cell phone lost one week back in some unidentified place,” etc.
I was only glad he didn’t introduce a murders, rape and some ghosts into the story.
My letter was rich in slang and his in grammatical errors ( I didn’t dare correct any, after the dustbin debacle.)
I got the letter signed and sealed by the Sub-Inspector, breathed a huge sigh of relief and headed straight to a Vodafone shop.
To my horror, all the Vodafone guys needed was my signature and a check mark in the box which said “lost” in a form. Argh!
FIR then took the shape of a boat and it’s currently resting in an unused diary.