Living in a crime city: After what those bikers did that night, Gurgaon will never be same for me

It was a cold December evening in Gurgaon. I was about to leave my office, which was located at DLF phase 1 when I received a surprise call from Adi, my husband that he has already left from his office and will be waiting for me at the MGF Metropolitan Mall, located at MG road. I was pretty excited about this surprise date and rushed out from the office.

Gurgaon was just a year old to me now. But it seemed that I knew it all. I got a transfer to the Gurgaon Frankfinn office located at DLF phase 1, when I got married a year back and so my husband took an apartment very near to the office at DLF phase 4. As my track record of driving was too bad, we decided to go for public transport, which was easily available. Sometimes I used to get a rickshaw right from downstairs of my building and sometimes I had to walk a few steps till Galleria to get a hand pulled rickshaw.

It hardly took 15 minutes to reach my office and so did to MG road which is the heart of the city. In and all, I loved this happening city even though my parents kept me warning about the everyday horror news which were telecasted by the sensational news channels about the city. But I never bothered about it, until that day.

I reached Metropolitan mall even before Adi, as he was travelling back from Delhi. After waiting for about 15 minutes, I saw him coming towards me. We had coffee and some snacks and loads of talks about the day. After enjoying the date we crossed the road to get a rickshaw again to reach home. There was a shortcut to our house through Sushant Lok which we discovered recently. A rickshaw puller came to us asking for our destination and agreed to go in Rs.20 instead of the usual charges of Rs.40. This was surprising but as all Indians do, even we were attracted towards this money saving offer, thinking that he might be going to the same place and hence charging us less.

It was around 6:30 PM and the sun was about to set. I started feeling colder and so took out my shawl and wrapped myself in it. Keeping my huge purse on the lap made me feel warmer. The small rickshaw made for just two made us feel cozy and comfortable and so we started chatting again. We were hardly 5 minutes away from our house and were planning to get down at Galleria and get something packed for our dinner and suddenly felt a jerk. Before I could realize what happened I felt my thighs cold again. “My purse…My purse”, I screamed. A bike just crossed us. I thought the handle of the purse might have got stuck to the bike’s handle and so by mistake it was gone. But the two bikers were far now and shamelessly showed my purse and speeded off. My husband laughed at me and said, “It was not a mistake dear… they were robbers”. I was in shock. I kept telling him that the purse had everything. I was not bothered about the money but it had my phone with lot of memories like my husband’s first sms, my father’s messages of ‘take care’ and my contact list. It had my driving license, my pan card, my office ID and ohhhh shit…. My debit cards too.

The rickshaw puller was slower than before. My husband consoled me that he was happy that I was safe and did not fall from the rickshaw. As my phone number was changed, we had to get the account numbers to block the debit cards. We were desperately waiting to reach home and we did in next 10 minutes. But the keys? Even the keys were in the purse. We, along with our neighbors tried hard to unlock the door. After trying for an hour, Adi finally found a key master who came and unlocked it. It was around 8:30 now. Next 1 and a half hours went in finding the account numbers and blocking them one by one. And now we realized that it might be too late to go to a police station. Moreover we forgot to get a new lock amidst all the tension.

Adi had an urgent meeting the next day. I could not have kept the house open and gone to the office. Adi suggested me to ask a neighbor to be at our place for some time and meanwhile I should go and file a police complain. But I, the so called independent girl, who could have roamed around the entire city alone, who would have managed to visit any place in the world alone, was afraid to go the ‘police station’ alone. I don’t know why but I was afraid!

We reached the police station next day morning. Two people were taking bath under a tap placed outside the police station. Two officers were sitting outside taking sunbath and chatting. I visited a police station before in my hometown for my passport verification but it was not similar to this one. We had never done something like this before. So Adi asked a passing by officer about the procedure to file a complaint. The officer asked us about the incidence and we narrated the story. To our surprise, he had no problem against the robbers, he had no issues against the crime that happened on a busy road, and he was not surprised that the crime took place almost in the day light. But he was surprised and had a problem against the fact that we came to file a complaint on the second day of the crime.

We were guided towards a small verandah in the police station, where there was a table and three chairs. After waiting for 15 minutes, an old constable came to us and sat on the chair on the other side of the table. He listened to our story. We made sure that nothing is missed in narrating the entire incidence as we thought that he will start writing it. But he did not write anything. After listening to us, he started explaining us something. And the first sentence that he uttered was shocking. He said, “Listen kids… I will tell you the truth.. You are not going to get the purse back”. Adi and I looked at each other giving gestures like “What the fuck?” And then the constable continued, “Chalo… let’s say you get it, I mean we search it, then how will you prove that it belonged to you? You know, you will have to prove that it was snatched from you etc. etc. which is so difficult. Moreover you will have to come again and again to the court until you prove it and for that you will have to hire a lawyer too. Why are you getting into all such hassles?”

“Then what should we do? We had our phone and important documents in it and those can be misused”, Adi asked calmly.

“Hmmm… yes for that we have an option. Just file a complaint that you have lost your purse. You can mention the phone number, the license number and the pan card number in the complaint. We will give you a copy of it. And in case anything is misused, you can show the complaint copy which will prove that those documents were lost.”

Highly dissatisfied by this option, I looked at Adi. But I think Adi knew that this was not an option given by the constable but was the only option that he had for us. So he agreed and we lodged a complaint of lost property and not robbery.

Gurgaon was never the same for us. We started using taxi instead of rickshaw to go to the nearest mall too. We avoided taking the same route again to our house. I grabbed my purse tighter when ever I walked on the roads, no matter which time of the day, no matter how busy the road was. It took me another year to apply and get my documents reissued. The phone I lost was special to me. I bought it with my first salary and it contained all the special messages from my dear ones. My purse was gifted to me by my husband on our first anniversary.

Those robbers might be still snatching special things from a lot of ordinary people like us and speeding off their bike without the fear of getting caught. Those ordinary people might never be able to walk on the roads again as carefree as before. That old constable might be still suggesting people to lodge a ‘lost property’ complain.

Meanwhile I read some where that Haryana’s crime rate has dropped in the past few years.