Discussions of murder with a tea stall owner............

I woke up depressed this morning.

Why I was depressed was almost impossible to fathom because everything had been going right and I couldn't really complain about anything............not one single thing!

I was also more irritated than usual.

So with this double dose of negativity, I drove down to the Novel Business Centre in BTM Layout, Bangalore, to collect a cheque from a client.

There was a parking slot right in front of the building and I slid into it. As I got off the car, I heard a voice asked me to move the car about ten feet in the front. It was neither a polite not an offending voice. However, what offended me and increased my already high level of irritation was the gall of the request.

The source of this ridiculous request was the owner a roadside teashop-on-wheels, a diminutive five feet six, balding and paunchy individual.

"Why should I move?" I asked him, irritably. "I pay road tax and this is a parking area. On the other hand, you don't pay any tax and are a unlicensed vendor. Why don't you move?"

"Why should I move?" he hotly retorted. "I have been here at this same spot for fifteen years and no one can make me move."

Aha! This was definitely interesting.

"Why not?" I asked aggressively. "I can make you move."

"You go and finish your work and come back and I will tell you why no one can make me move" he replied.

On that mutually agreeable note I set off to collect my cheque.

What I had thought would be a two-minute task extended to twenty minutes. Every few minutes I went and peered out to see what the tea stall-on-wheels owner was up to. I was worried that he may deflate my tyres in a burst of anger. However, each time I looked out, he seemed to be busy with his own unique tea making tasks.

Finally I got my cheque and headed down to the car.

"So tell me why no one can make you move from here!" I demanded. "Is it because you pay the corporation or the police a daily bribe?"

"I don't pay any one any bribe and would refuse to!" he angrily retorted. "I am an exceedingly honest person and would never pay a bribe!"

"Then what makes you so un-moveable from here?" I asked.

"My son Sunil is a Don!" he muttered. "He is a powerful criminal in Madiwala and has huge clout. No one dares touch me." He paused for a moment and then spoke with pride in his voice. "My son has committed four murders."

Then his voice softened.

"I didn't mean to offend you by asking you to move your car. Why I asked you to move it is because people throw their leftover tea on the sidewalk and very often they do not see where they are throwing it. It may have dirtied your car."

His mood seemed to be visibly improving. I also realized with a start that my depression as well as my irritability were gone.

"Do come back some time and have a cup of tea with me" he said.

This sudden about turn killed the aggression in me. I held out my hand and he shook it. With a dirty hand covered with leftover tea leaves.

On that unhygienic note I left.

I have been wondering all day whether he actually has a son who is a Don and has murdered four people.

Or, on the other hand, had he weighed the odds and felt that if left provoked, I would take steps to make him vacate his precious perch?

What do you think?