Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Security at the Mall

Just now returned from Center One, the local mall. There’s threat of bomb blasts in malls, so I wanted to check out, death wish or, um, well, love of malls, the glittering facades, the lovely women to ogle at. It’s that way, so let it be, mall lover!

Yes, there is a bunch of policemen at the entrance, sitting to one side of the entrance and gawking, swinging their legs. Their boss, an inspector with his intestines and stomach bursting out of his belt is going around the mall, visiting each shop and asking prices. Seems, you know, this is their idea of “plum posting.” And nobody near the metal detector, which curiously is named portal detector, he, he, har! har! har! As if it’s some web portal. The ignorants!

The whatever detector gives a loud beep, I pass through, and nobody from the protectors of law and justice come forward. I could have been carrying RDX or a Mauser pistol. They are badly trained; I have seen people pass through airport security without being checked, then what about malls? Kisika baap ka kya jatahai. What does it go of your father, eh?

As I am wont to do, I walk into a store selling expensive diamonds. I ask the price of a cross pendant, Rs 12,000. I feign interest. I have with me a shopping bag inside which is Johnathan Livingston Seagull, freshly bought from the Mani Bookstall, a wall of a shop. The idea is to appear cool, look into their faces in a condescending sort of way. Sensing a buy, all the salesmen crowd around me, “Hey this guy is a shopper, see his Mani Bookstall bag he is proudly flaunting? I look at them, and am laughing inside, “12,000 bucks, man, my wife would kill me so that she can inherit the diamond pendant! He, he!”

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