The Sub Inspector and I

The Sub Inspector and I, strange title for a post in a blog that is dealing with Ranjan's cancer and my battle. Wait till your hear the story. It is a proof yet again that nothing happens fortuitously in this life that we love thinking we control, even if we are not control freaks. One more reminder of Papa's: no leave moves without His will! here it how it goes.

It was about 4pm when the bell rang twice. Now in my house if anyone, barring my darling grandson, rings the bell more than once, we all jump and rush to the door to normally chide the person. I was in my office, hence near the main door and I went out ready to pounce when I saw a tall man of a certain age that did not look like your courier man. I introduced himself as Sub Inspector Mohan Singh, CID. What had I done now! It transpired that he had come for a passport verification for Parul who of course had got her passport and flown away across many seas. The man was polite, soft spoken and though I asked if there was anything I could do, he said that he needed Parul's signature on his form that now would have to be returned and revived when she came. I guess we are all a little in awe of authority of any kind, even though it could be because of their nuisance value, though in my case it was another parental lesson, I felt the need to explain to him why everything had been rushed and thought that the best thing would be to play on his emotions and mention Ranjan's cancer. I guess this was the operative word the man upstairs wanted me to pronounce.

The SI told me his wife had cancer too, blood cancer and she was in a poor state because of the side effects of the chemotherapy. So here I was telling him about all my arsenal, showing him soursop leaves and Tibetan medicine. I asked him if he had an email and he sheepishly confessed that he has not much knowledge of computers but would send me his son's id.

He was true to his word and in the evening I got a call and talked to his son and promised him to send all the information. This is the first ting I did this morning. I hope it helps relieve the awful side effects of the poor lady. I must say I feel good and maybe should like my grandson loves doing add a middle name to mine. What about - another favourite expression of the grandson - Anouradha Side Effects Bakshi!

And who else but our friend Sub Inspector Clouzot to illustrate this post.