Do Noise Complaints Work in India (Bangalore)? | 112
It sort of does! I’m impressed that it works at all.
I live in a decently equipped apartment in Bangalore in the Rajajinagar area. It’s gated, has round-the-clock security and typical modern amenities - swimming pool, gym, kids play area, library, etc.
Life is good as long as I’m within the confines of my cozy home and I don’t look at what lies beyond the gated walls of my apartment community.
Because, truth is, I’m living in an oasis, that's surrounded by a shithole…
This is the reality of most apartment communities in India’s major metros. You’ve got fancy high-rise apartments reaching for the clouds on one hand. At the same time, you’ll find impoverished slum dwellings, or monstrous sewage systems right in the neighborhood of said apartment complexes.
The people that occupy our neighborhood slum like to drum (rhyme unintended). They drum during celebrations, festivals, religious holidays and many other occasions. And they drum when someone in their community passes away, which happens every few weeks.
One unavoidable charm of living in Indian metros is the intrusion of public noise and nuisance invading your private space. You have to learn to tune it out and get on with your life. We apartment dwellers have grown used to the drumming.
I do feel sorry for those that are working from home and have to dial in to meetings during the drumming days.
Having guests over at your house during such days can get embarrassing too.
Recently one day, the drummers in our area slum, that had been drumming since afternoon, decided to push their limits and continued drumming late into the night.
The clock whizzed past 9 PM, and then 10 PM and then it was 10:45 PM. And these lowlives were continuing banging around with no signs of stopping.
It was past my son’s bed time and he wouldn’t fall asleep in that kinda noise.
I was brimming with anger.
I felt helpless because I was powerless to do anything about it. I’m not a brave man to walk up to this street-gang and fist-punch holes into their drums.
I googled around for what can be done for noise disturbance and came across articles about visiting the local police station and filing a complaint.
I’m not cut out for such undertakings either. That seemed like way too much of an escalation.
The other option was to make a call and report the disturbance. 112 is the Indian equivalent of 911.
So I call up 112, and as I was bracing to hear the grumpy voice of a bored, indifferent policeman grunting 'Yaarree Adu?’ (Who the hell is it calling), I was surprised to hear the call-center like voice of a lady on the other side.
She greeted me politely and asked for the reason for my call. I reported the disturbance. She asked me details about the locality and the police station that has jurisdiction over the area.
Then she asked for my name. I panicked because I wished to be anonymous, but I couldn’t assert myself and gave out my name.
She then said she’ll have the beat-patrol police (called Hoysala, in Bangalore) dispatched immediately, thanked me for calling and hung up.
I was very skeptical about help arriving. I was thinking maybe if it was a case of bodily harm, police assistance could be expected. But noise complaint? In India? That’s a long shot, I thought.
Within the next ten minutes, a police car with flashing beacons showed up near my apartment. I was delightfully surprised about the fact that the system I was skeptical about, actually works.
I received a call from one of the cops in the car and he asked me to come up to their car and take them to the source of disturbance.
That’s suicidal, isn’t it? I live in the area and keep walking around for local errands. If these street goons learn that I reported them to the cops, then they’ll ambush me someday and chop me up while I’m innocently walking back home with some tomatoes.
I made it clear to the police saying I’m not showing up citing my future safety as excuse. The guy was understanding. I then gave out some directions on the phone and hung up.
The police finally approached the drummers and immediately put an end to the menace. There wasn’t any action. The cops walked up to the drummers, had some exchange of words, and the drummers dispersed immediately.
And then we had the gift of blissful silence. My son was dozing away in the next few minutes.
I was watching it all unfold from the safety of my 15th floor balcony, and in total darkness so I couldn’t be spotted if the cops or the drummers turned their heads up.
Sad fact - I hide my face behind a blur on this blog, I hide behind a cartoon on my YouTube channel. And now, I also hide in darkness in real life. Boy, I’m a loser, aren’t I?
I’m so naive that I was delighted with the outcome of this little incident, and was shivering with adrenaline. I called the cop back on his number and thanked him. He sounded surprised with my gratitude. Maybe getting appreciated feels weird to these folks, stuck in their thankless jobs.
The next day, I got a call from the call-center and they asked if I was satisfied with the service and if I had any feedback to give. I expressed my happiness, while also letting them know that some callers would prefer staying anonymous through it all, and wouldn’t enjoy getting callbacks from the cops and being asked to show up to their patrol car. The call-center rep told me that I can request to be anonymous when I first call to report the incident. Good to know that!
So what to make of all this?
While it looks like the system works, we need to take it with a grain of salt.
Police effectiveness largely depends on who they are targeting.
The people I reported were a bunch of nobodies in a godforsaken slum. The cops could easily go shoo them away and resolve the issue in an instant.
If the source of disturbance happens to be some influential local politician that’s running a late night celebration, and I report such incidents to the police, I’m quite sure nothing’s gonna come out of it. Worse, it could backfire and I could become the target of these powerful people for trying to disrupt their party.
In India, I have to be careful about who I’m dealing with. You’re better off not messing with powerful goons, unless you’re an even more powerful badass yourself.
For now, I can rest assured that the next time these bands of drummers get together for a night time jam session, I have the power to make a phone call and destroy their concert, all from the comfort of my balcony…
…While I hide in the dark.
Until next time,
- SlumDog Millionaire
Yes it does work with 112 number! the Hoysalas!