A young couple unwinding after work with a long drive and a late dhaba dinner were hauled up by police on false charges of immoral behaviour and drink driving, forcing them to pay a bribe to avoid spending the night in a lock-up.

The incident, which occurred near Technopolis in Sector V a little after midnight on Wednesday, is not an isolated case of cops subjecting couples to a roadside moral science class with the immoral intention of extracting a bribe.

Metro spoke to the young hotel executive who drove into the extortion trap along with his colleague-cum-girlfriend to know how our cops often prey on couples at night.

We left our workplace (a star address in the heart of the city) around 11pm and headed for Sector V to have dinner at Azad Hind Dhaba. Traffic on the EM Bypass was thinning and we had a pleasant drive. The food at the dhaba was also good and we were generally in a happy mood, little knowing what awaited us.

Around 12.15am, we decided to head back to the city so that I could drop my girlfriend home. I was about to take a U-turn on the Rajarhat Expressway approach road and drive up the newly constructed Nabadiganta flyover towards Chingrihata when a West Bengal police vehicle — a Sumo — overtook us and blocked the way. I pulled up immediately.

There were four policemen in the Sumo. One of them came over and asked me to accompany him till their vehicle with all my car documents. I did as I was told, thinking it was just a routine check.

As I was showing the cops my papers — driving licence, car insurance policy, blue book, pollution certificate — questions flew thick and fast. Did the car belong to me? Was the name mentioned in the papers my real identity? Why was I out at night with a woman?

I showed them my hotel identity card to prove that the person in it was the same as the one whose name was in the car papers, but they insisted that I was hiding something. I tried hard not to lose my cool.

By then, one of the cops had walked up to my car to talk to my girlfriend. She too was being interrogated about the authenticity of her identity card. The cop then insisted that she give him a family member’s telephone number so that he could confirm whether anybody at home knew who she was out with!

Who gave him the right to question two consenting adults whether they had sought their families’ permission to go on a drive at night?

When my girlfriend refused to give him any number, the policeman insisted that she call home and let him speak to one of her family members. She still refused.

Around the same time, I was being interrogated about my girlfriend’s identity. I gave her name but the cop kept asking me whether I was telling the truth. I asked my girlfriend to step out of the car and identify herself.

Unable to find any discrepancies in our statements, the cops came up with a new allegation — they said I was drunk. I had not had a drop of liquor that evening. I asked them to smell my breath. They insisted that I accompany them to the police station.

With no way out, I dialled a relative whose friend works for The Telegraph and put the phone on speaker mode. I narrated the harassment I was facing and urged him to alert his journalist friend.

The cop who was interrogating me lowered his voice on hearing the conversation. His colleague who had confiscated my car papers then tried to strike a deal with me “for Rs 1,000”. I refused to even talk until he returned my car papers. Then, I offered them Rs 50 — take it or leave it.

Much to our relief, they took the money and let us go. But our ordeal hadn’t ended. Believe it or not, we were stopped at Gariahat again. I told the officer that we had had our share of harassment for the night at the hands of our so-called protectors! Fortunately, he understood.

The two of us won’t be going on a drive at night for a while — not for the fear of goons, but the goons in uniform.