Satish Shrestha (सतिश श्रेष्ठ )

In The Quest Of…

My First 911 Call

Posted by Satish Shrestha on August 11, 2009


August 3, 2009

Jackson Height, renowned for its gingantic south asian occupation, is my least favorite place to hang out in new york city. Last night, I get off a train and walk towards woodside avenue. All of a sudden a can of beer falls on me. I look up and shout “Motherfucker !”. A bunch of people try to hide away from the third floor balcony. My two eyewitnesses urge me to call 911. My hair is wet and I smell beer. I’m irked as hell since they did not even apologize. I call 911 and report it. NYC 911 seems to be in rush like everyone and everything in NYC. In the mean time, a south asian looking guy comes down and observes the situation. He walks aroud and I could see fear in his gait. He runs upstairs and brings another friend and does ‘Namaste’ to me with apologetic face. He speaks hindi to me. And I say, “what the fuck are you saying?”. Its not that I do not understand hindi, but I’m sure it annoys every south asian when someone else starts speaking in his/her own dialect assuming that the others understand it as well. And he says, “I am indian, yaar, I am sorry, I won’t do this again”.He must have tought I was an indian too. But he was right, one of my eyewitnesses was Indian. The apologetic guy may not have been terribly drunk, but he smelt like shit. I hope I don’t smell that bad when I drink. He says sorry to me and other eyewitnesses. The other eyewitnesses were local residents and they appeared socially quite responsible. They scolded and threathen those drunks. Calling 911 was enough for them, I don’t know what my witnesses exactly said, but those drunks seemed really scared. I call back 911 trying to cancel the report. They say that is not possible. The cops would come and return if they see nothing. I leave the spot, thanking my witnesses. I don’t feel like I am in the west anymore.

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