A rape story







Before I go in to the actual story, you will definitely need some background information.

Khorfakkan is a  small town in the east coast. And it has all the problems of the small town. Living in a small community has a lot of benefits. Privacy, however, is not one of them. Small town gossip is at the top ten of the deadly sin list. There is nothing in the world that can destroy friendships, marriages, families and personal lives, like gossips.  And then, every one here thinks he is the most important person and his family is next to the Nahyan family ( The Ruling family).

The landscape combines desert, with an impressive mountain backdrop scenery, while the coast is scattered with small fishing villages. And it has a lovely beach, often the destination of vacation travelers.
Half are original natives. Half are Baloochis,  probably of Afghan origin, with many having no passports, and they live in something like the slum areas. The true locals live on the other side of the road, where the roads are cleaner, have pavements and trees at the roadside. There are no dirty garages and meat shops at that end. The Baloochis are generally not educated and many either end up working in the defence or police. It is a joke that the most idiotic and mentally subnormal end up working with the defence or police. The government has found a way to employ those youth, who would otherwise find it impossible to get a job anywhere else.
There is probably a policeman from every family here and so also same number of thieves. Because the thief and the police  are from the same family, the law enforcement is often funny. The law takes different courses for the locals and non locals. There are too many policemen for such a small town. There are at least half a dozen policemen walking around the hospital corridors at all times. At least the same number sits at the emergency room also.” Looking for crimes’, I don’t know what. I have heard that the policemen are given credits  for each case or crime they find. There are only petty crimes here, often small scale burglaries, and occasional rapes. So the policemen roam the roads looking for single women. The common offences are  the love making of the poor Bengali men with equally poor willing  housemaids, who have no other opportunities. It is a common sight at the hospital to see these policemen walking around proudly with their catch of those frightened looking women. They bring them first to the emergency room, and from there to the Gynaec department for detailed physical examination. They are subjected to the inhuman act of taking swabs and specimens from every orifice. If a sperm is detected from any of the specimens,  it is ‘ Eureka’  and the policeman has his orgasmic experience.

The local men still rear their flocks of sheep. It is probably good business because local meat is in good demand, and so also goat’s milk. They are kept at the mountain side, and looked after by poor Bengalis, who also live in those thatched sheds at the mountain sides. They eat and  sleep there, with no connection to the outside world.



And so, it was one day when I was passing through the ER I found a Bengali man sitting outside the doctor’s room, handcuffed. He was shabbily dressed and appeared having not taken a bath for many days. Few policemen were also around as usual. Out of curiosity, I asked the ER doctor what had happened. He had a mocking kind of laugh and said” it is a rape case”.



The local man had gone to see how things were, and unusually early. He found the Bengali having sex with the goat. He shouted and yelled , and the goat ran in to the flock. He caught the Bengali half dressed, and brought him to the police station. The police, had a good case at hand, and they brought him to the hospital. But after listening that it was a rape case, the ER doctor asked,” but, where is the girl, the victim?”

The police man was seriously thinking, and finally scratched his head for some time. He left without saying a word, leaving the Bengali  under custody of  half a dozen police men. And some time later he came back with a goat, and brought it to the doctor. The doctor had the laugh of his life time and asked.

“ But then, how do you know this is the particular goat?”
The police man had no hesitation  in replying.
“ This is the sexiest looking goat of the lot !! “”

Comments

  1. kudos to u for highlighting the idiocracy of the arab world . dark comedy at its best .

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sexy goat...the policeguy too shared the poor Bengali man's taste..Crap these guys are!!! Definitely un-natural acts are a punishable offense even in India, but then again its not like solving a Scotland Yard kind of mystery!!!

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