‘A
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njuna police station, mom. Opposite Children’s Park. The driver will know. Please come
quietly with dad. Don’t tell any of the relatives.’
‘What are you doing in the police station?’ my mother said, her voice hysterical.
‘Stop shouting, mom. I am here with Brijesh.’
‘Brijesh? Brijesh and you are at the police station? Why?’
‘If you come here I can tell you. Bring dad, okay?’
‘What about Brijesh’s parents?’ mom said.
‘He has called them separately. They are coming too.’
‘Oh God. What is going on? Are you safe?’
‘Yes. Mom, Brijesh didn’t have a licence.’
‘Licence? Why?’
‘We went for a ride on an Activa.’
‘Activa? There are so many cars we have hired.’
‘Mom, just come.’
I hung up the phone. Brijesh sat next to me. Sub-inspector Samuel D’Souza sat in front of us.
‘Where did you buy it?’
‘It’s common in the lanes of Anjuna beach. I am sure you know,’ Brijesh said.
‘Are you suggesting we know and do nothing about it?’
‘No sir,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
I elbowed Brijesh to be quiet.
‘When is the wedding?’ the sub-inspector said.
‘Friday,’ I said.
‘In two days. And this is how you start your married life. Doing drugs?’
‘It’s not a drug, sir. It’s mild herbal stuff. In fact, in California it is legal,’ Brijesh said.
The sub-inspector gave us a stern look.
‘Is this California?’ he said.
‘No, sir,’ Brijesh said, head down.
‘What is this place?’
‘Goa, sir.’
‘What do people come here to do?’ the sub-inspector said.
‘To party, sir?’ Brijesh said, in a soft voice.
‘No,’ the sub-inspector shouted. ‘People come here to have a good, clean, peaceful holiday.
Not to do this nonsense.’