Dad's Birthday Celebrations.. at a Petrol Pump

Alright. So, for starters, I must tell you that I never blog about real life situations, but this is something I need to share with the world. Or the 3400 readers of my blog. Or whatever.

At 10 pm on the 26th July 2012, I went to a Bharat Petroleum Petrol Pump in Gurgaon, asked them to put 1300 ka normal diesel in the car. I checked the machine, it showed Zeros and it was all set to give diesel for Rs. 1300. Normally after getting fuel for Rs. 1300, the indicator in my car shows that the tank is full, however, this particular day, it showed that the tank was 3/4th full. Alarmed, I told the worker that my car always shows that the tank is full after getting diesel worth Rs. 1300. He argued for 5 minutes and ultimately said that he'd put in more diesel. I sat in my car, happy that I won't have to come to the Petrol Pump until next week, about to leave, when the employee asked me for Rs. 300. Why, I asked. He said "300 ka daala hai tabhi to tank full hua". Did he ask me before giving me diesel for Rs. 300? NO. Did he tell me that I was going to be charged for that extra diesel that I had just unknowingly 'purchased'? NO. Absolutely stubborn and mustering all the Baniya goodness in me, I started arguing. A mob of other employees gathered around, telling me how it was somehow my fault. I explained everything about 835 times and then they agreed on how it was the employee's fault, however, asking me to pay for that extra diesel that I consumed, because otherwise, it would've gone out of the employee's pocket. Heavy words like "insaniyat", "gareebee" and "bhagwaan sab dekh raha hai" were being thrown around. I was adamant on not looting my father of Rs. 300, but I just gave him cash and asked him to charge those Rs. 300 because I didn't want him to pay that money out of his own pocket (The guy was working at a petrol pump at 10 pm.. I'm sure even the smallest sum of money meant a lot to him).

I came home, told my mom what had happened, how I had paid Rs. 1600 for diesel worth Rs. 1300.. Dad was on the phone so he didn't listen. She asked me to cool it off. I came into my room, started listening to some Lana Del Rey and lied down on my bed. Suddenly, dad, the birthday boy, came into my room, asked me to come with him to the petrol pump because he was sort of disgusted by my lack of baniya turpitude and wanted me to fight for my fundamental rights. So, we went to the petrol pump, asked the employees to call the owner of the petrol Pump and called up the police (Which I felt was a bit much, but continue reading because the Police is.. well.. just read). We explained everything to the owners, who instantly refunded the extra Rs. 300, but said that they didn't have a complaint book. My dad wasn't ready to leave without writing a complaint in the complaint book and getting the contact details for the Vigilance Officer.  So, after many threats, they finally gave us a complaint book, made us sit in their sleazy office that reminded me of the kind of shady, scary offices they describe in books. I was blatantly accusing them of theft, forgery and batameezi while dad was writing a complaint. At around 11.45, the police arrived, half an hour after we made the phone call, and stood there. We explained the entire scene to them and they said some technical things that made no sense and then later admitted to not owning/ driving cars ever. So, that was that. We took the number for the vigilance officer, wrote a complaint and the machines at the petrol pump will be checked thoroughly some time this week. 

What I learned from the whole incident was that its not about not creating a scene or even about charity. Its about standing up for yourself and stopping the rampant corruption, or at least doing what you can to stop it.