A CONSTABLE NAIDU

Naidu is from Nallahamsapuram, Pithapuram MandalEast Godavari district,

Andhra Pradesh. Recently he got through Andhra Pradesh Police Constable
Recruitment Exam 2014 and is soaring on high spirits. He got through after 5
years of unemployment, waiting writing and waiting and writing almost all
group exams pertaining to the public sector, except for the civil services.
The only obligation left is the physical fitness test. He has to his credit 14
medals won at the zonal and district level athletics 100m sprint (his mother
event) and javelin throw since childhood. The prospective physical examination
is just a cake-walk for his candidature. He got through.
For training he was sent to AP Police Academy, Hyderabad.
The training began and was over in one flap of eye.
He was designated to undergo apprenticeship under the senior most head
constable in Hyderabad, Sambasiva Rao who worked under sub-inspector
Mallikarjun as his immediate hierarchical superior. They are posted at OU
police station.
He got a government job, what more could he ask for? Back in
Nallahamsapuram, the betting is high on his nuptial fortunes.
Bring me that water bottle Naidu head-constable Sambasiva Rao demanded
affectionately. Naidu obeyed. Where is water in this? there is not a drop of
water in the bottle and the senior-most head-constable assumed that Naidu
would fill in the water and fetch it when asked only for the bottle. But Naidu is
inexperienced to understand this intricate cue.
What am I to do with this empty bottle? Should I tell you to open its lid, open
the filter tap, fill the bottle, close the tap and carry it in your hands, etc., etc.,?
If we peal out the banana, you people will eat it happily. When will you learn?
You think this job is a swan-song?
Naidu realized his lack of proactive aptitude and fulfilled his first assignment
without further prompt from the head-constable he quenched the mans
thirst.
With a snail-like pace, the Sub-Inspector came in followed closely by the secret
guard who was hushing into his ears the updates about a possible student
resistance at OU campus.

But I dont think they would strike this early. The last time they gave us
sleepless nights, especially the SFI mercenaries from JNU. We can easily
subdue these phonies but the JNU guys are tough he remarked while also
inspecting the freshness of a new face in the station. He signaled the secret
agent to leave.
What Samba, seems like you got a fresh apprentice for Dussehra. Havent you
gone home for holidays lad? Unfortunately youre in public service without
public holidays! both the SI and head-constable laughed their hearts out to
acknowledge such dry pleasantry.
Naidu saluted as the SI approached him.
You have to make him rough Samba, he looks tender suggested the SI
throwing brow-raising glance at his head-constable.
Most of the University students are home for Dussehra holidays and the
station looks idle. Now the SI expectorated loudly and flooded in a fresh load of
watery phlegm on to his hand kerchief. Wiping the remains gently from his
nose, he offered an explanation to uphold the propriety which officers of his
cadre ought to oblige, I caught cold this early morning while jogging at our
campus ground the winter has set in early this year.
A hot cup of tea is appropriate at any hour of the day. I long for one, he
expressed his desire not directly summoning any particular person which is
more than sufficient for our head-constable to initiate the arrangements. He
looked at Naidu and prompted him, get two cups of chai but did not offer any
financial assistance, it is quite understood. Our poor Naidu has very few notes
left in his pocket which he reserved for bus fare.
It was maybe half past five in the evening. I slept all morning, ate, and slept
again till evening. When I got up I longed for tea. In our colony, you have to be
more careful while choosing your tea parlor even more than when sorting
tomatoes at the vegetable vendor. There are about 20 parlors interspersed
every 15 meters throughout the length of the colony. If you consider the
authenticity of taste, it varies with each one. But those that sold the tastiest
and drinkable tea are only 3.

Out of these, two tasted very similar, you can call them twin teas each of
them employed a paste made of ginger + elachi and did not much pollute the
milk with water. One was Moulanas and the other was Hanuman tea stall. The
other is that young man hailing from Mannayanahalli in Karnataka who made
tea as if it were a penance of a devout mystic. No doubt his was equivalent to
Moulanas and Hanumans in spite of not adding a single spice. If I sought a
respite from Moulana flavor, I drank at the Kannadigas.
But today, these 3 stalls were closed. Moulana left for Shamshabad in advance
to celebrate Bakrid due on Monday. Hanuman was closed down on account of
Dussehra celebrations and the Kannadiga has gone to native place.
As a common addict of these three reputed flavors, I was dying for the heartfelt
delectability of a cup on this holiday. I researched the length and breadth of
the colony trying to detect a parlor where a relatively drinkable tea could be
found. Only 3 were open and I knew the two in the middle were undrinkable
owing to a previous experience on some droughty day like the present. Then I
saw exactly where the colony began stretching from the main road connecting
OU police station, a stall with a better swarm than the other two. I decided that
it could give me what I was seeking. I have never been to this stall and it
seemed to me that this is an opportunity to discover a novelty, maybe this
could add to the essential list of the Kannadiga, Moulana and Hanuman, who
knows? The gamble is worth it.
I forced a few drops on to my tongue and the rest was obliged with force rather
than fervor. I lost all enthusiasm and felt at once that this tea instead of
elevating ones consciousness polluted the optimism of the mind and that
awesome feeling of life only a tea can evoke. A disgusting taste my friend, I
regret drinking it. How it is made, you ask me. 7o% of it is water, the decoction
isnt heated well, and the milk, I refuse to call it milk. Every ingredient added
in it should be penalized for worsening its taste. And that dirty cloth with
which this woman filtered it instead of a common tea filter. She squeezed the
cloth after filtering the tea into kettle such that the cloths 100% dirt is
extracted into the tea. Dont ask me further. No, forget. One must read again
Prousts soliloquy to get back to tea-drinking habit and importantly to recover
from this horrible shock.
Youre waiting for him and here he comes, our humble Naidu in search of tea
at his masters command. He asked the lady, amma, please pack me 2 teas in
a cover and paper cups as well.

I dont have any covers here she replied uninterested in the order and verily
in the illusion of customer demand for her tea.
Then he called up his master, the head-constable and informed him, Sir, it
seems this tea-lady has no covers.
Get covers somewhere, my-sonshould I spoon-feed you every damn thing,
dont you have common sense? Mud-head Go find a plastic cover in your
grandfathers shop.
Please see if you have any Naidu urged the tea-lady cutting the call.
At this plea, she explored the bottom racks of the stall to find a plastic cover
but her efforts proved futile. Then she saw beneath the stall submerged in wet
mud, a few milk packet covers thrown after use. She looked at them and sent a
complacent glance toward Naidu trying to obtain his consent to use one of
them. Pack the tea for our SI and company dear lady.
Will you use that? It looks shabby Naidu complained though without interest
in its hygiene and with less effect such that the lady took it for granted.
But she reassured him, Ill clean it with water and did that to her customers
satisfaction. She poured into it, the tea and fastened the tip of the packet with
a dirty thread. He took it and ran off.
Instead of taking the straight road that led to the station, he went across and
slid into a shorter route. There is a wall dividing OU post office from the station
and there are a few bushes adjacent to it. He stopped there and untied the tea
parcel. He unzipped his pant and peed a few drops of hot urine into the packet
and retied it. The rest of the urine he unleashed outside on the bushes.
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Why, this tea is differently the best I have had, little sugar little salt remarked
the SI who was resonated by a compliant expression from our experienced
head-constable who has just finished his own cup.