As a local reporter, driving home alone at unearthly hours has become part of my daily routine. It was no different that night. Except that I was in one of my moods I wanted to get away from everything, think and re-think nothing in particular and arrive at no conclusions, as there really weren't any. A drive down the deserted Noida road would soothe my nerves somewhat, I decided.

I had rolled up all the windows except the one near the driver's seat. I couldn't afford to roll up this one. I would have suffocated if I had. I was driving rather slowly -- at a speed of 40 km per hour. Driving any faster would need extra effort, and I was too tired to move a finger.

I crossed the Mayur Vihar phase I apartments dotting the road and entered the neighbouring stateof Uttar Pradesh. After driving down the straight, lonely road for about 20 minutes, I decided to take a U-turn. There were no street lights and it didn't look safe. Moreover, it was close to midnight and I had to get back home before my folks started worrying.

I was nearing the Noida Buddha statue on the highway, a few metres from the Delhi border, when the three men signalled me to stop. As there were no street lights, I could barely see their faces. I had been on the crime beat for a year and all the horrid stories came rushing back to me. Were these men robbers? Would they kidnap me? Would they take my car and dump me in the middle of nowhere? I was tempted to accelerate and speed past the men. But something stopped me. And I decided to check on the men.

It was only when I came near them, I realised that they were policemen from the UP cadre. None of them were wearing police caps. There were no barricades to demarcate the area either. No bulbs to light the place. The cells of the lone torch that thethree cops shared had run out. I stopped my car.

"Madam, aapne red light jump kiya hai (Madam, you just jumped the red light)," one of the policemen said. I vehemently denied the charge. I had not even seen a traffic light in the area. "Many people can't see the traffic light there as it not an intersection," countered the policeman. "The traffic lights have been put up on the left-hand corner of the road. Leaves from a nearby tree cover half the pole."

"Then, you know why I jumped the light, if there was one at all," I shot back. "But you have violated traffic rules," reiterated the cops. The argument continued for a full fifteen minutes. Finally, I agreed to pay the fine. But I also made it abundantly clear that I would not pay without a receipt. It was then that the cops changed their minds.

"We will let you go without paying the fine if you give us the magazines kept on the backseat of your car," one of the uniformed men said. The cops had seen the magazines when I had switched on the car lights toshow them the RC and driving license, I realised.

"Do you have the current issue of Women's Era?" asked a cop. "No, I need a copy of the Hindi edition of India Today," said another policeman. "But you can't read them here. There are no lights," I pointed out. "We need the magazines for home," they said.

I was again tempted to argue. But I decided against it. I gave them all the magazines I had, and rushed home.