Breathalyser

Between 11pm and midnight, the Bangalore City Police Traffic Wing deploys near popular watering holes. The dragnet is targeted towards the young motorcyclist (seldom a car driver, who belongs to a different social stratum), who's wet his whistle at an establishment likely named the Windsor Pub or the Flagstaff Arms. Riders are randomly pulled over. At some point the department had gotten funds to purchase breathalysers, but who knows what terrible fate has befallen those? A more muscular solution is available in the form of a large and hirsute constable, who sticks his face in front of the suspect's mouth. 'Breathe out', he thunders, even as the offender's stomach churns at the blast of onion and garlic from the constable's lunch. Like a connoisseur sampling the boquet of a Chateau Perayne, he asks the rider to give it to his face again and again. At last the diagnosis -- Aha! a Khoday's from Chelsea Club! Ayyy hero, license dikha!