‘This is nat the way, PK,’ ACP Bhavani Singh says mildly as he performs meticulous toe-touches as prescribed by the Canadian Air Force’s 5 Basic Xercises booklet in the central park of the Hauz Khas Police Colony. ‘You cannat poke your nose in the girl’s privacy like this!’

He is a soldierly looking man, close to sixty, with a square, homely face and spiky grey hair, and wearing a navy-blue tracksuit. Beside him, reluctantly performing the toe-touches too, is his subordinate, the much fairer, taller and younger Inspector Padam Kumar, resplendent in a bright yellow Brazil soccer jersey, who, being a single man in possession of a good future, is — following in the best Jane Austen tradition — in want of a wife.

‘Mummy says there’s nothing wrong in running little bit of background checks, sir.’ A stubborn look settles on Padam’s cherubic face. ‘It is a question of marriage after all! I just used our database to check if she, or her family, have any criminal tendencies.’

‘Everybody has criminal tendencies, PK,’ Bhavani replies. ‘You do too, or you would nat be snooping around, using the Crime Branch’s official database for personal work!’

Padam Kumar’s face reddens. ‘I’m an honest policeman,’ he mutters. ‘I don’t take any bribes or indulge in any shady deals —’

‘You are nat doing the department a favour by being honest, PK!’ Bhavani responds mildly. ‘You are just doing your job!’

Which is all very well for you to say, Padam thinks petulantly, but it is an open secret that apart from you, most of the department is happily on the take!

Bhavani Singh moves on to doing sit-ups while continuing to speak.

He really is quite fit for an old man, Padam Kumar admits silently as he switches to sit-ups too.

‘And it was nat just a matter of running a simple background check, was it — you have also had this girl followed by constables and checked out by police informers to find out if she has any boyfriends!’

Padam Kumar says, slightly out of breath, ‘Sir, I thought ki just-for-this-once, there was no harm in using the department’s facilities to get a clean chit on this girl. She is a very good-looking girl, and so she may have had many admirers and, after all, it is a question of my whole life, sir!’

Bhavani gives an exasperated little exclamation and pauses mid sit-up.

‘Accha, so supposing the girl got a dirty chit,’ he says. ‘Matlab, you found out that she has had some boyfriends. Then what?’

Padam Kumar blinks. ‘Then I would have caught her in a lie, sir,’ he says virtuously. ‘Means she is immoral, and untrustworthy — and not good enough to be my wife and mother-of-my-children.’

Bhavani smiles gently. ‘But if she had come right out and told you that she has had boyfriends, then you would have rejected her, would you nat have, my good and self-righteous PK?’

Padam avoids his superior’s gaze, checks his watch, and moves on sulkily to the third basic Xercise — the back extension. Bhavani sir has an English-teacher wife, two daughters and two granddaughters, so he has no choice but to be broadminded. But I still have a choice, he thinks mutinously.

As they lie on their stomachs and raise their arms and legs off the ground, alternately arching their backs and sinking back to the floor, he mutters, ‘Sir, my family is very traditional…’

‘And you’re just the man to modernize them!’ Aggravatingly, Bhavani is not at all out of breath. ‘The cost of the surveillance work you ordered on the girl is going to be deducted from your next pay cheque, and the only reason we are letting you off without a written warning is because we know you honour your mother. But you must learn to honour your future wife also! Or your marriage will be a very unhappy one.’

‘Yes sir,’ PK says miserably, wondering why he has to have such a weird boss. Anybody else in the Crime Branch would have understood and condoned his ‘crime’. But not Assistant Commissioner of Police Bhavani Singh.

The older man isn’t done yet. ‘If you really want to get to know this girl better, take her for a walk in this nice weather we are having! Let her choose her own meal in a good restaurant, tell her about your failures and your fears and the women you have kissed, and then she herself will tell you all her secrets!’

As if! Padam Kumar thinks rebelliously as they get on their hands and toes to start on the fourth basic Xercise — push-ups. Why would I pay for an expensive meal for a girl I haven’t even finalized yet? She should call me to her house and feed me! And why would I put such loaded information into my to-be wife’s hands! But that’s ACP Bhavani for you, he has no concept of the right and proper way of doing things.
Why can’t I have a normal boss, Padam Kumar wonders gloomily. Or a cool boss. Like in all those Dabangg and Singham movies? The type who makes criminals piss their pants when he walks into the room? When Bhavani Singh walks into the room, all the crooks leap up grinning, and ask him how his granddaughters are.

‘Remember you are nat superior to this girl, PK.’ Bhavani is still holding forth. ‘No human being is superior to another. All are equal.’

This is too much for Padam Kumar, who takes great pride in his badge, and his position as a crusader for law and justice.

‘Sir, surely I am superior to a murderer, sir!’

A murderer can go on to become a saint,’ says Bhavani, rising red-faced and finally out of breath to start on the final basic Xercise — jumping jacks alternating with running on the spot. ‘And a saint could slip off his pedestal and become a murderer!’

Anuja Chauhan is a bestselling author of books such as The Zoya Factor, Those Pricey Thakur Girls, Battle for Bittora and Baaz.

Her latest book — Club you to Death — will be out on February 26.