Procrastination is a very bad thing and if only that was not enough, it’s also addictive. I was supposed to grade and return the student assignments last Thursday. I kept putting it for later for some or the other reason and now it was high time because on Monday morning my professor picks them up. It was hot outside so I decided to follow the PATH + Newark city subway route, which has been kind of my routine since I returned from India. I got on the 13:50 subway at Newark Penn station to Warren Street station. I made it a point to get on the front most car of the train, as that is nearest to the exit at the Warren Street station. My station is just 3 stops and about 8 min away. The train, as expected, was not very crowded. Two black guys got on the train at the next stop (Washington Street) and sat pretty much in front of me. It was a very normal thing as the Newark area is full of African-Americans. I got down at Warren Street station and started walking out of the station. As expected, I was the first one to get out and hence was the first on the first stairway, which then leads to two different stairways one on the right and one on the left. I took the one on the right and was on the 6th or 7th step, when I heard someone. I was listening to the song “Govind Jay Jay” by Kula Shaker, so didn’t hear clearly what that holler was about. (It is not even my favorite song; I do not know why I replayed it as I got down the subway.) I turned back and saw those two black guys on the landing (place between the two stairways). One of the two was taller, who said, “Yo, come here man.” I chose to ignore him and kept climbing the steps. Both the black guys followed me. I was now on the street. There were only 2-3 cars. I never like it crowded anywhere, but that time I hoped there were at least 1000 cars. The guys were walking very close to me, though they were behind. Again the taller guy called up, “Yo man.” I kept walking and walking and turned on to Warren Street. To my horror, there was no one in the sight there. Now the taller guy came even closer and pulled out the earphone from my right ear. He said, “Yo, give me your iPod Nigger, give it to me.” Why the hell did he call me Nigger? Do I look like one? Is it because I haven’t shaved? And why on earth my iPod? Does he have any idea how hard (?) I have worked for the iPod or my Mac, or even my cell phone for that matter. (Although, the cell phone was free after rebate ☺) Bottom line, I did not want to give him any of my possessions. While thinking all this, I looked or rather glanced at him as I continued walking and put the plug back on. In a couple of seconds, he hit me in the face (on my right ear) from behind. Instantaneously, many things happened. My ear went numb (I thought I was going to be deaf or left-ear like that guy in Italian Job), I remembered all the incidents of robberies nearby the campus that I had read in emails about went floating around my eyes, and at the same time I took that hit as a GO (gun fire) for the race and ran with all my strength. The taller guy followed me quickly. I had the backpack on me with the laptop and everything, but still he could not catch me. God, I must have run really fast or may me all the running and work out for last 3 weeks helped. I kept running and running and was now practically on campus (Refer to the Map below) as I ran along the edge of it. All this time, while I was running, I could see that guy running just behind me from the corner of my eye. But, when I passed the stadium (Building 16) and the Tiernan hall (Building 22), he gave up. I still kept running until I reached the college-town shuttle stop (to the left of Building 9) from where the public safety (Building 19) is visible.
I paused for a while thinking if I should go to the department or to the public safety. I opted for public safety, when then I thought was the right thing to do. I went in and told them what happened. They acted fast and sent out a sergeant to look for the culprits. On his way out the sergeant only asked me what they were wearing and how old they were. I was asked to sit down and then was questioned by the officers one by one. While I was sitting there, my roommate called me up. He was in Patel Cash and Carry, Journal Square. He probably wanted to ask me what vegetables and other things to get from there. But, little did he know that I was in no mood for vegetables then. As soon as I hung up, four black officers asked me how those guys looked like. I looked at them, paused a bit, and then said, “They were both black juveniles, 15-20, if I have to guess.” Damn it, I remembered the word juvenile, but did not remember African-American. But, to my relief, they did not look offended, but were concerned about me. One who looked like the senior most of them asked me, if I can identify those black guys? Those guys sat in front of me in the subway, so I was sure I could identify them, or so I thought. I said, “Yes, I can.” Big mistake as it turned out later on. He asked me to describe them and I did. “Tall, black, one with curly long hair, and the other with small hair.” I said. The officer replied, “You mean short hair?” Small – short like it makes any difference. I said, “Yes, short hair, I am sorry. One of them was wearing white T-shirt and the SHORT hair one was wearing red T-Shirt” The officer asked, “What kind of pants were they wearing?” I said, “I did not look at their pants.” Everyone laughed. I did not quite understand if they laughed at my answer or to the fact that the description pretty much matched any kid on the block. Anyhow, they took me to Newark Police Robbery department. There they showed me 4017 photos (6 per page – 670 pages in all) of juvenile black kids, who they had on their records. 4017 juveniles? What all the black kids in Newark are on the list? They all looked so much alike that after going through first 50 pages, I was VERY sure that now I couldn’t identify the ones who tried to rob me even if they were in front of me. I went on hitting next looking meaninglessly at the photos that showed up. Outside, one of the detectives was making fun of the NJIT police. I heard him saying that NJIT policemen make big deal out of tiny matters and his collogue laughed and said that that’s all they get to handle anyway. It was very uncomfortable sitting there – total waste of time – I so wanted to get out. Finally, that detective came in and asked if there was any luck with the identification. I was on page 450+. I said, “No.” He claimed, if I didn’t find it by now then probably I wouldn’t find it at all. He must have known what happens in such identification dramas. I had no desire to sit there anyway, so I nodded in agreement. He escorted me out and then the NJIT sergeant picked me up and dropped me off at the department.
Sergeant said that they will follow up with this and will call me in case they get any leads. Honestly, I did not think they would ever find these guys. I did not care either; I was only happy that nothing really happened to me. I did neither get hurt nor did I lose anything. It was funny how everything happened so fast. I always thought that I would panic or freak out if such a thing as mugging would ever happen to me. But, I did not panic. I don’t exactly remember how I felt. There was so less time even to react that feeling would perhaps have needed longer encounter. Everyone kept telling me that it was very smart of me to have run and that I was very lucky. I can agree to neither. If I was really lucky then why should this even happen to me? (I guess they just tell that to console people) Also, I was definitely not smart or anything. I did not even think about what was going on while it was all happening. I reacted on pure instinct and faith in something that helped me not to freak out and to act fast. If I were in the place of those black guys, I would have robbed myself thrice in that time. I do not know why that guy did not grab me while we were at the station or why he could not catch me when he was nearly 6 feet tall. I guess they both were new in the mugging business or may be they just saw the opportunity and tried to make most of it and failed due to lack of experience. Or may be I actually was lucky as worst could have happened. In any case, I really thank God that nothing happened to me. I was totally OK, but still there was no way I would have gotten any work done. I went home and decided to write this blog, while everything was a fresh memory and while listening to Govind Jay Jay – one of my favorite songs now.
- @sh
