Undone by a rolling pin

"Rolling pin" is one of those Enid-Blytonesque terms that sound a lot fancier than they actually are. A rolling pin is one of those cylindrical devices narrowing at both ends which you use to roll, more accurately laat dough. Laating is a very Indian concept, I suspect the Mexicans call it something else, but certainly "roll" does not do justice to the concept of laating.

So, anyway, a rolling pin is essentially a laatni.

And one of those buggers came crashing down on my poor car, parked nicely for the night in my very own basement parking space at my apartment complex. The rear window is now smashed to smithereens. You wouldn't imagine a tiny thing like that could wreak that kind of havoc, but it did.

We were at home getting a new broadband connection installed when this happened. Apartment security was as usual very helpful and professional. One of those guys who always turn up at incidents of this sort swore that he saw the weapon sail out of a kitchen window on the first floor of the adjacent block. So we marched up to their front door to investigate.

The moment the door opened, we knew we'd found our man. A rather blustering attempt at "Yes, what's going on?" didn't cut much ice with the missus, who produced- rather brandished- the laatni in his face, while asking in her most school-marmly voice, "Is this yours?"

The facade collapsed. His beady frightened eyes grew large as he repeatedly apologised for the rolling pin falling. Repeated questions from our side as to how it happened were met by a blank gaze. A toddler of the female persuasion poking her head around the wall provided the first clue. As far as I could gather, there are only 2 reasonable explanations that cover the fatcs somewhat:
1. The aforementioned toddler got her grubby hands on it and decided it was better off outside the kitchen;
2. Beady-eyes and his missus had a bit of a disagreement and decided to settle things by tossing projectiles at each other, one of which went awry.
Since there seem no obvious signs of any familial discontent visible, we are still sticking with explanation 1, i.e. work of the child. Rather futilely, for this wretched man was agreeing to whatever I said, a big dampener when you're trying to browbeat somebody, I attempted to explain to the fellow why this act of negligence on his part was so dangerous. Somebody could have been seriously hurt. Children play in the basement all the time. He was responsible for things flying out of his windows. My insurance company may not agree to pay for damage to glass parts, so I would have to bear the expenses. Surely he realised that he would have to bear that expense on my part?

He says he will. He agreed so readily thatI suspect:
1. he has no idea that it costs approximately 7500/- or more to get the damn rear windscreen replaced; or
2. he is a tenant serving out his last month and will be shortly vacating said flat with alacrity.

1. shall be communicated to him this evening in person. Having found out about it just this morning, it was not possible to inform him about it earlier and the blasted fellow has not even left a mobile number caliming he has none.
If 2. is true, then:
2 a. I am screwed
2 b. I will hunt high and low for the motherloving son-of-a-whatnot but I will still be screwed.

Some random thoughts that never got expressed last night:
What the hell kind of idiot allows kitchen utensils to fly out of their windows? What the hell kind of weasel sits quietly indoors after said kitchen utensil has exited his window? Was he hoping nobody would notice the large, slightly uneven hole in the back window of the car parked outside? Was he praying that this was all some kind of silly misunderstanding that would soon be cleared and he could go on with his insignificant little life?

Mr. Weasel, I'd feel a lot better if people like you took responsibility for your actions rather than burrow away into your little holes and act as if business is as usual. Some months ago, I was nudged in the back by a motorcyclist with a Punjab registration and my company's ID tag as I waited in bumper to bumper traffic on the way to work. Forget apologising, or even stopping to check if there was any damage, this slimy gook whizzed off with as much dexterity as his glorified moped would allow, dodging between vehicles before I even had a chance to lower my window. Not that there was any significant damage done, but can you imagine a situation where this nimrod actually hits someone on the highway? He'd probably be in the next state before the body grew cold.

I only pray that it's not mine.