‘Hello, this is the police control room. Sup?’

Now, to a fine, well-read individual like you, who still sees the many uses of vowels, that sentence ought to strike a jarring note. Well, let’s face it, whether they catch thieves and offenders or not, the police have definitely caught up with the tongue of today’s youth. Whatever be the state of the other person’s life, the answer is always a neutral, sad “Nothing Much”. Let us delve a bit and see a situation that calls for the use of “Sup?” nowadays. The following situation is best empathised with when enacted –

(A silent, well-lit hospital corridor. Not a soul in sight except the pen-tapping nurse. Door to the right opens.)

Pregnant woman: “AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHNNN…”

Husband: Nurse, quick, call a doctor. My wife is in labour.

(Nurse’s pointed heels echo away into the distance. The screaming reaches cosmic levels. Spotlight on husband. Husband walks to the front to deliver his 7 minute soliloquy.)

Author: For the benefit of the readers, the soliloquy has been away-ed with. To give you a brief idea, it was boring and as unnecessary as the book Chetan Bhagat is now writing.

Husband: I need some water after that long speech.

(Two pairs of shoes run down the corridor.)

(After a pregnant 3 minute pause and a few enquiries, it was found that the pair of shoes belonged to a couple from the audience who had apparently had enough. We still await the arrival of the doctor and the nurse; any inconvenience caused, as they say in the Indian railways, is deeply regretted.)

(Two pairs of shoes run down the corridor. Hurray, the nurse and the doctor!)

Pregnant woman: ”AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHNNN…”

(We wait for the screaming to have the desired effect in the audience. A few more people walk out. The doctor eyeballs the woman up and down as she falls down clutching her pregnant tummy.)

(Pause for the gravity of the situation to sink in.)

Doctor to the couple: Sup??

Husband: Oh, nothing much. Life’s as usual. By the way, have you heard to the Kolaveri song?

Now that we have established that “Sup?” is a very valid question to ask at all times, let us move forth with our tale.

An ugly scream rent the sweat-soaked, smoke filled police control room. No, it wasn’t the pregnant woman. She always goes – AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNN…” The screaming stopped as suddenly as it started and then, there was static. Silence.

Not even an owl hooted,

Even if it did,

It was muted.

Before you start doubting the author’s mental capabilities after that ill-formed Haiku, the police moved with so much speed that you wouldn’t require a Large Hadron Collider in CERN to prove that there are things that can move faster than light. With great efficiency, they traced the call to an old apartment inhabited by a seedy man who they long suspected of murder.

Sirens wailed as the cops rushed out in their vintage (that’s just a classier way of saying dilapidated) cars and swept through roads. Sleeping dogs were howling once again, as the moon hid behind clouds. Dead leaves formed their own whirlpools in the flying dust, as trees rustled with great fury because of the cold, swirling gale from the Northwest. An unfastened iron gate swung hither and thither, making hollow, creaking sounds. In the distance, an old man sat hunched at a fire, warming his wizened limbs. It was a scene haunted enough to make any grown up cringe.

Not the cops. They had headlights on high beam and Himesh Reshammiya making use of his nose in unimaginable ways.

The cars screeched to a stop and the cops rushed up the building. They took their positions, arms at the ready. Every man was sweating like a pig, mostly because they were as fat as pigs and hadn’t climbed stairs for years.

The leader moved forward, along with the negotiator. The listener followed close behind; his job was to listen to any metallic sounds and give an accurate description of what it is and how it can be best negated. Yes, just like in the movies.

Knock knock.

‘Who’s there?’, came a voice from the ranks of the policemen. It was also followed by muffled laughter.

Knock knock. No jokes this time.

Knock knock knock. Something stirred from within the house.

In two ticks, footsteps rushed to the door. The policemen stiffened. The door opened and the suspect walked out into the narrow corridor with a bloodstained knife in his hand.

‘Sup?’, he asked, to no one in particular.

In their hurry to answer, the policemen jumped out of their hiding places in unison, thus bumping into one another and having the greatest fall down a flight of steps since Humpty Dumpty.

By the time they untangled themselves, there was no point in saying “Nothing much!”. The suspect was long gone.