The traffic in the city is still mismanaged and chaotic. But over the course of months, a system is being put in place and, if nothing else, there’s a semblance of order.
Although related, this story isn’t about the crackdown on motorcyclists.[break]
My story starts and ends in Thapathali, a motorcyclist’s nightmare. There have been many incidents where riders have been reprimanded and licenses taken for breaking traffic rules. Personally, despite getting a ‘chit’ myself for parking on the pavement, I’ve applauded the work of the traffic police. I’ve since learnt my lesson and have sworn never to go down that road again.
As I rode into Thapathali that fateful day, I checked into a car showroom’s parking area. There was ample space around, so I drove in and parked alongside two other bikes.
A guard from the showroom looked at me but didn’t utter so much as a word. So I left to go about my business.
It was probably two hours later that I walked back into the parking area, only to find my bike missing.
The first thought that crossed my mind was that it had got stolen, but again it seemed unlikely.
Had I parked in a busy marketplace with dozens of other motorbikes and no eagle eyes watching over them, it was a big possibility. However, this seemed like a safe place, considering it was a smaller, private parking lot.
I browsed through the line of motorbikes again. It was definitely not there. My surprise gradually turned to panic and I took the next possible course of action – make inquiries.
I started with the guard, who said he didn’t know anything about my red bike. I requested him to think carefully, it was right there and now it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly have disappeared, and if somebody had stolen a locked bike, then it would’ve grabbed some attention.
He still insisted that he saw no suspicious activity and didn’t remember me coming in or my bike. I moved on to seeking help from the other employees there – none of them knew anything.
Flustered by the indifference and lack of information, I went to a little office adjoining the parking lot.
I asked the man sitting there the same question – any idea what happened to a red bike that was parked inside a couple of hours ago and had now gone missing?
He said he didn’t know but pointed me towards a restaurant in the premises. Basically, two restaurants and a car showroom share the same parking area.
Finally, with a lead in hand, I stepped into the restaurant and made more inquiries. Yet again, they hadn’t seen a thing. By then my temperature had risen noticeably higher, to say the least. How could a motorcycle disappear from a parking lot without anybody having so much as a clue as to what happened to it? Doesn’t that seem a bit strange? Apparently not, when you know but refuse to come out open about it. I couldn’t help but throw a tantrum, when somebody among the staff felt a little sympathetic and managed to say, “Maybe the traffic police took it.”
I stopped for a second and thought, why would the traffic policemen take a motorcycle parked inside? And then it dawned on me that the only way that could’ve happened was for somebody to actually drag it outside and leave it at the mercy of the traffic police.
And that was what had happened.
Thereafter, it was basically their word against mine. Apart from coming a little off in the head, the traffic policewoman’s argument was completely relevant.
If that was the case, although even she found it difficult to believe that somebody would actually do that, then I should take it up with the people concerned, and it was their duty to seize it.
I agreed completely. After much convincing, they released my bike but with a ‘chit’ for which I’ll have to wait in line, in a rather dysfunctional system of reclaiming my license, as well as pay a fine that could be anything between Rs 1,500-5,000.
Like I couldn’t get a proper explanation as to why the people inside the parking area maliciously put my bike outside, there will be no point reasoning with the cops to the extent of what I’ll have to cough out.
So this is my story. It’s a vent, but more than that, I can’t help but reflect on the degeneration of people’s minds.
All it would’ve taken from the guard or the staff there was to inform me that I couldn’t park my bike in their parking lot.
I would’ve found myself another spot. It was as simple as that. They, however, resorted to being mean and sly, which I find inexcusable and outright wrong. I’ve always claimed that Kathmandu isn’t like it used to be.
Forget the politics, just the widespread apathy and growing indifference and meanness towards each other is what bothers me the most.
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