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I still cannot believe my luck for having escaped so narrowly after being shot by the police.

Well, nobody in their right senses would expect to be in the cross-hairs of a policeman while driving on a near-empty highway on a pleasant sunday afternoon with the car radio playing golden oldies. But here he was, looking like a messenger of lord Yama in khaki pants about 300 meters ahead, as the car negotiated a curve on the road. He wielded what looked like a state of the art automatic weapon, far more menacing than an AK-56. As I watched in horror, he pulled the trigger at the car at front -- a "Just Married" Ford Ikon decked with colourful balloons and fresh flowers. A gang of fellow khaki pants appeared, shouting and waving at the car ahead which had veered off the road and wobbled to a halt on the shoulder, with its newly-wed passengers, no doubt in great distress.

The steering wheel shook in my unsteady hands and my car almost brushed the median. Were there gangsters in the Ford Ikon and would I be assumed to be their accomplice? My legs went numb. I could always ponder on those questions later. This was the time to act and make good escape even when the barrel of the gun pointed towards me.

I stared at the gun for the fraction of seconds and smiled. I pressed down hard on the brakes and brought the vehicle speed just below the speed limit. There was no way the traffic police could stop me now, no matter how many times they shot at me with their state of the art "laser speed gun", unlike the over speeding honeymoon couple in the Ford Ikon who were paying the fine by the roadside.

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