 
### The Witch's Mirror And Other Stories

Ratan Lal Basu

Copyright 2011 Ratan Lal Basu

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### Contents

I. The Witch's Mirror

II. Dream In A Rainy Day

III. The Terrorist's Leaflet

IV. Goddess Mansa And Bhrigu's Mirror

V. The Noble Deed of Inspector Rao

VI. Major Singh's Secret

VII. The Glorious Success

The Author

I. The Witch's Mirror

I

The storm raged through the village and demolished many houses including the hut of the old woman, allegedly a witch. It was at the farthest corner of the village where the bushy field slopes gently down to the small stream. Everybody in the village was relieved as the awe-inspiring woman was killed by natural hazard. Police came; her body was removed after clearing the debris and cremated at the sandy bank of the river. The villagers set fire on the crumbled house and it was gutted in a few minutes. All belongings of the deceased woman were now gutted by fire and the owner of the land on which the hut was erected, hired a priest to do the rituals to sanctify the plot so that no ominous effects of the soul of the woman alleged to be a witch remains. Villagers were now happy that the hidden menace of the witch was gone, but many felt morose as she had never done any harm to anybody and there was no proof that she was a witch; furthermore she used to help the villagers with her herbal medication. The village, however, reverberated with gossips about the deceased witch and her death brought some new topic to spend their idle time on in their monotonous rustic life. The tea stall gossips which had so far remained confined to the monotonous day- to-day living and back biting of the persons absent now swung to a livelier arena and stories were fabricated about the activities of the alleged witch.

The old woman had come to this village about twenty five years ago and no body could tell exactly where she had come from. She mentioned the name of a village more than two hundred kilometers from here and none of the villagers most of whom rarely went beyond the local rural town, ten kilometers away, had ever heard of that village. She was noticed first by some cultivators while she was picking up herbs from the bushes at the river bank. She was then around sixty, lean and famished out of hunger. They asked where she had come from as they had never seen her before in this locality. At this she wept and gave account of her miserable life. Her husband was a middle farmer with several acres of agricultural land and a mango garden at a village two hundred kilometers from here. She inherited the property after her husband's untimely death and after his marriage of her son and daughter-in-law entreated her for transferring the property in the name of her son. The candid widow, being unaware of their nasty design, did the same and thereafter they started misbehaving with her. It became so intolerable tat she had left home and started traveling randomly. She had learnt herbal treatment and could barely manage to get her food by providing treatment and selling herbs. But she could not earn enough to manage two meals a day and therefore she roaming from village to village in quest of livelihood and shelter.

The son of a cultivator was suffering from cough and cold and he promptly took her to his house and the boy was fully cured in no time after she administered her herbal medicine. The news reached the ears of a well to do farmer and he requested her to treat the asthmatic problem of his daughter. She stayed in his house and in a fortnight the girl was cured considerably belying the verdict of the urban allopathic doctors that this type of asthma is incurable. The farmer gave her a plot of land and built a hut for her at his own cost. Thereafter she started living there and helping rural people by her herbal treatment. In return the poor villagers used to provide her food and clothing and she had very little demand besides the bare subsistence.

One evening a few villagers returning form the haat in the village at the other side of the river in the evening saw her uttering mantras before a mirror and thereafter the rumor spread that she is a witch. In fact, they were not sure she was uttering mantras and some of them said that she was just looking at her own image intently at the mirror, but the rumor gradually got inflating from mouth to mouth and the ojha of the village, who had some grudge against the woman as since her arrival nobody approached him for treatment, made a fuss of the matter and declared that she must be a witch and she should be driven out of the village. The villagers were divided over the issue, but those who were against him could not express their opinion openly. They too had some fear about the woman because of the fabricated rumors.

However, the sacred mission of the ojha did not come to fruition. Some young boys of the village were influenced by the communist leaders of the town and they were advised to make the rural people free from superstitions which had been at the root of their poverty and sufferings according to them. So these boys immediately informed the leaders about the design of the ojha. Some leaders came to the village and delivered lecture at a public meeting emphasizing that the superstitions about witchcraft is baseless and then warned the ojha that if he does not eschew his way, they would get him arrested by the police. The fear of police silenced the ojha and the woman remained in the village. The villagers had confidence that whatever she is she would never do any harm to them and on the contrary they would always be benefited by her herbal treatment. Still people had some hidden fear in their mind and no body went to her hut alone or after evening.

A few days after cremation of the woman, Tapu, a fourteen year old son of a poor peasant was returning alone from the field to bring from home a sickle. On his way home, across the field on which the hut of the woman was situated, he noticed a glitter in the mud and getting close he saw a beautiful oval mirror gilded with a white metal. He picked up the mirror and washed it clean in a nearby ditch. He thought it had something to do with the deceased woman and could somehow escape the notice of the villagers. He had listened seriously to the lectures of the communists and was convinced of the falsity of the concept of witch and other superstitions. He knew that he would have to hide this mirror at some secret place so that it is not detected by the villagers and destroyed. Upon reaching home he at fist went to the back of their house and hid the mirror in a thick bush of ferns. That night, when everybody in the house fell asleep, he sneaked out and started watching his face in the mirror. It was a full moon night and his face appeared charming to him. Thereafter the mirror became a source of his secret pleasure and everyday, the boy sneaked out of their house and went to the bush and looked at his image in the mirror with amazement. He got immense pleasure by making grimaces and all sorts of gestures at his image in the mirror and it occurred to him that with a little bit trimming he would look more handsome than the landlord's son of his age.

The stories about the witch continued in evening gossips in tea stalls. Many of the villagers started fabricating stories about some mischievous activities of the witch. They, however, admitted that the woman loved the people of this village as they had given her shelter and therefore never did any harm to them but did mischievous activities in other villages.

Madhab Roy, a shopkeeper and one of the best story tellers in the village, stared his story by saying that what he was going to say now was from authentic source. He had gone to visit a relative at a distant village. A relative of a school teacher at that village lived in the village from where the witch had come. The witch was preparing herself to revenge the misdeeds of her son and daughter in law and their accomplices. One full moon night she reached the village and told his son and daughter in law that she would not live long and she would hand over her hidden gold to them. At this the eyes of his son and daughter in law glistened in greed and they welcomed her into the house and begged apology for their misbehavior because of inadvertence of young age. The witch smiled and told them that a mother always forgives her children. Then she brought out the mirror packed in a paper and fastened with string and told them that her gold was inside the packet. Thereafter the son and his wife opened the packet and their vision instantly fell into the mirror and they turned into stone dolls. Thereafter she met the accomplices one by one with the same story and turned all of them into stone dolls. The relative of the teacher had seen the dolls with his own eyes. Bijan Pal asked Madhab with a dubious tone how she could move two hundred kilometers and come back within the span of one night. At this Madhab questioned the common sense of Bijan and said that even a child knows that a witch can travel any distance within a moment. Other villagers had their fantasy stories too. In all the stories the center piece was the mirror. No body, however, believed the stories, but they enjoyed them as the tellers presented them in dramatic style and with suspense. Tapu heard the stories and laughed to himself. He had already looked into the mirror in full moon and nothing had happened and he was also influenced by the lectures of the politicians against superstitions.

After a few days, the boy was caught red handed by his father while playing with the mirror. His mother saw him sneaking into the room like a thief at night while her sleep had broken suddenly and she disclosed this to his father. The next night, his father remained awake and followed the boy silently after he had sneaked out. He reported the matter to the ojha the next day and the latter came over with some villagers and immediately wrapped the mirror in a piece of black cloth sanctified by mantra. He opined that the mirror was to be destroyed right away. While the boy reported that he had looked into it on full moon night and nothing had happened to him, the ojha gravely examined his palm and said that luckily he had a rare mark on his palm that had protected him from the mischief of the mirror, but it would not be so for others. At that very moment the political boys were returning from a meeting with the urban leaders toward the place where their car was parked. Noticing the congregation they hastened there along with the leaders. Learning about the issue, the leaders started laughing loudly, admonished the ojha and one of them snatched the mirror from his hand. They told the villagers that on the next full moon night they would look into the mirror in the presence of the villagers and disprove the superstition.

The ojha felt humiliated and after the politicians had departed he told the villagers that the leaders would learn a good lesson; in fact they would become stone dolls for sure. His close followers also strongly supported his view. Other villagers were in two minds. And till the next full moon, all gossips in the village stopped and they waited with fearful hearts for the fateful night.

The test was decided to be held in the political office room and in the evening of the full moon, all the villagers congregated outside the office. The leaders arrived on time and the onlookers made way for them. The four leaders – Tapan Mandal, Bijan Das, Dwipen Banerjee and Kalipada Datta – had all passed from Calcutta colleges and entered politics as students' union leaders. They were good orators but not so as students and had been graduated with painstaking efforts with the assistance of private tutors. After graduation, they joined the political party as low echelon whole time cadres and were entrusted with the task of popularizing their political party and ideology in and around the suburban town they resided in. All on a sudden, they got a golden opportunity that established all of them as trusted trade union leaders and their position in the party hierarchy rose rapidly. It was the opportunity to organize the laborers of the newly established Agrawal Fruit Products, a proprietary firm owned by the Marwari, Mahabir Agrawal.

Mahabir, a poor Marwari youth had started his business with a small printing press which did not run well. Thereafter, at the advice of Biresh Chachan, his batch-mate at college, he took to smuggling in the Dhulabari border with Nepal and made considerable money within a short span of time. He had been blacklisted by the police and it was not safe for him to continue the illegal business. So he returned to Calcutta, bought a few acres of land near the suburban town where the four political leaders lived, and established a fruit processing factory. In the rural hinterland of the town, fruits like pineapple, guava, mango etc. grew in plenty, transport and communication facilities with Calcutta were very good and he started earning much profit from the jelly, jam, pickles and fruit squash produced in his factory. He was, however, extremely greedy and deprived the laborers of the minimum salaries and other amenities specified by the labor acts. He also exploited the producers of the fruits. They were poor cultivators and were compelled to borrow from him at exorbitant rates of interest and were also to sell their perishable produces at prices far below the prevailing market rates. The laborers could not protest as they feared him, a tough and cruel ex-smuggler, and the ruthless goons under his employ.

The four political leaders took advantage of this situation, fought hard to organize the laborers into the trade union affiliated to their party and could force him to pay the laborers fair wages and many other amenities enshrined in the labor laws. Soon, a rival political party also formed a trade union in the factory but could not win election to capture the seat of recognized trade union. They however spread rumors that off late the four leaders had connived with Mahabir and, the recent retrenchment of some laborers was due to this conspiracy between Mahabir and the bribed trade union leaders. But most of the laborers did not believe them and took it to be false propaganda.

II

The four leaders first delivered lectures against superstitions and especially, witch cult and the legal provisions against the practice. Thereafter they closed the door of the office and the villagers waited outside in breathless silence. The leaders switched off the electric light and opened the two large windows at the east and in a moment the room was filled with bright moon light.

Tapan was the first to uncover the mirror and look into it. He felt a bit shaky and nervous and his hands were trembling. Whatever our education be, we cannot shake off the prejudices entrenched deeply into our subconscious in our childhood and at times, the inherent superstitions get the better of our rationality learnt at later life. But he had to preserve his image before his comrades and therefore Tapan deliberately controlled his palpitating heart and shaking hands, yanked out the cover and looked into the mirror holding his breath and then he started laughing loudly, 'Oh my god, it's not at all a mirror and has got nothing to do with the old woman.'

The other leaders looked at Tapan with puzzled eyes and said simultaneously, 'What is it then?'

'See for yourself.' Tapan was still laughing.

Bijan, Dwipen and Kalipada looked into the mirror in turn and all of them started laughing. What they saw in the mirror was not their own image, but a picture of Mahabir, painted neatly inside the frame in such a way that it looked exactly like a mirror image. They came to the conclusion that this frame is not at all a mirror and must be planted in the field by the Marwari to frighten the superstitious rural people. He must have some wicket design in his mind. What surprised them was the hi-tech method by which the picture was painted.

People were waiting outside with fear and anxiety and their waiting ended as soon as the leaders clanked open the door and came out laughing. 'Just see, we are not stone dolls,' Tapan started his harangue. 'It is not at all a mirror and nothing to do with the old woman. In fact, your superstitions and fear psychosis is taken advantage of cunning people to exploit you...."

Tapu pushed through the crowd and approached Bijan who was holding the mirror in his hand and entreated, 'then give me back the mirror.'

Bijan returned the mirror and the boy ran off right into the field, picked out from a bush a used up black cap given to him by the son of the landlord, wore the cap and was immensely delighted to watch his smart looking image.

II. Dream In A Rainy Day

I

Sandip opened his bleary eyes and peered at Bechu closely. His plump cheeks have become ruddy; the checkered necktie matches immaculately with his deep blue shirt that slopes down the pot belly into the cream colored pant, the bald circle at the middle of the head is shining like a mirror. Bechu took out a pack of Chesterfield cigarettes, himself lighted one and offered one to Sandip, and lighted it while Sandip held it to his lip in his shaky fingers and he looked aside to avert the obscenity of the reddish flicker highlighting the boobs and the pussy of the nude female shaped Chinese lighter.

"Don't worry Sanu, I'm here for you. Now you're too weak to move. Take a few days' rest and the doctor would also check up and prescribe treatment. I'm sure you would be fit in a few days and you'll supervise my construction work." Bechu's voice sounded reassuring.

Sandip felt the spongy seat of the Mercedes Benz cozy and reclined on the soft back while smoking the excellent cigarette. Bechu-da is absolutely right. He must have a few days rest. Assurance of the job and a secure place to stay removed his worries. It was good luck that Bechu-da came upon him on the street, just a coincidence. He felt languid from the very beginning but could trudge along for some time but eventually everything became dark before his eyes and his legs gave way. While his consciousness returned he saw a mob around him and someone sprinkling water on his face and forehead. Then he heard a sonorous voice requesting the mob, "Carry him to my car and I'll take him to hospital. Looks like starving for some days." Suddenly Sandip could recognize Bechu-da. In spite of sea changes, his eyes through the glasses look the same – bright and inquisitive. He at once mumbled, "Bechu-da!"

It's nothing unusual, he is a well known person, but this time the voice was intriguingly familiar and it did not take him much time to recognize the voice, "You're Sandip. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"How famished you have become! And the jungle of beard has made your appearance completely unfamiliar, but I could recognize your voice. What were you doing there?"

"Just walking aimlessly, after release today. I've no where to go"

"Oh-ho, I had completely forgotten about you. Yes the government has decided to release the non-violent Naxals and withdraw all cases against them and rehabilitate them. You are a pure theoretician and I should have guessed that you'd be released today, but you know the high pressure of work in promoter's job. Don't say again that you've no where to go. Stay at my house and supervise my new construction works. I need a reliable person like you for the position. But everything after you're up and around. I'll send for the doctor after going home."

II

It was simply an accident and Sandip had no intention to commit the mischief. While taking a shortcut through the Baker Labs he noticed the haughty girl Arati in front of him and sped up to bypass the girl whose sarcastic comments and pride because of her results in the Senior Cambridge exam. had always been irritating to him and in haste he stepped on the back of her hawai-chappal which snapped at once. Sandip started preparing himself for the oncoming storm, but nothing happened and the girl looked up with sad eyes as though she would burst into tears and muttered, "How can I go out now?"

Sandip felt guilty and said apologetically, "Come to the College Street market and I'll buy you a new pair. It's my fault. Now wear mine for the time being."

He took out his sandals and placed them near her feet.

She now smiled to the relief of Sandip, "Oh my god, how can I wear these large chappals. You really have demon's feet."

"You can do with them somehow for a short while."

"But you?"

"It does not matter to me. I don't care what others would think if I move barefooted."

"O.K., you need not spend your money. This is just an accident and you've not done it intentionally I know well. Simply accompany me to the shop."

She looked different today to his surprise and offered to have tea or coffee. Sandip preferred the coffee house but she told she does not like the noise and moreover, if the friends find them together, they would fabricate stories. So they walked along the M. G. Road and Surya Sen Street, had kachuri from Mouchak restaurant and tea from the footpath tea stall Chhota Amzadia.

They decided to meet the next day. Only first three honors classes are important and they may easily cut the pass classes and for percentage, proxy could be arranged. To avoid curiosity of the batch-mates they would not meet anywhere near the college and they would go separately to esplanade corner at the appointed time.

They met at esplanade, had coffee and chicken pakora at Chowringhee restaurant and strolled along the side walks of the J. Nehru Road keeping the Metro cinema hall and the gorgeous Grand Hotel to the left, diverted to Park Street and then towards the Raj Bhawan along the Red Road. The esplanade with the arrays of football grounds, the fast flowing cars, the lofty tower of the Victoria Memorial, the race course, the rows of trees of garer maath (Fort William Ground), turned into a dreamland which they leisurely strolled through and keeping the football galleries to the left and tree laden Ranji Stadium to the right they entered into the romantic Eden Garden and talked for hours sitting close to the exquisite Burmese Pagoda. They told each other of their lives at school and family. Sandip's family with his widowed mother (his father died of cerebral stroke a few years back), his loving brother and sister-in-law and above all, the charming nephew and niece, was a happy one. Their house is close to the Burdwan town. His father's transport company is now looked after by his elder brother Pradip.

Arati's life at their Palm Avenue house is not at all happy. Both the parents work in large private concerns. They very often get drunk and quarrel and both are involved in extra-marital affairs. She feels disgusted at home and wants to leave the house at once, but she'll have to wait till she completes study and gets a job.

During his school life Sandip had visited Calcutta several times, the first time at class four in their jeep with parents and Pradip. It had rained heavily and the driver had to take detours to avert the water-logged roads. They visited the Zoo, the Victoria Memorial, the Museum and many other sites of interest and in the evening they entered the Hog Market. It was still drizzling when they came out of the posh market and the driver stopped the jeep at roadside to buy something from the footpath. Sandip looked out the window of the jeep and was enchanted by the dreamland of drizzling esplanade opening up in the glow of the neon lights. The esplanade in evening lights today unraveled its mystic charms once again and Sandip felt he's floating across the dreamland with a fairy from the heaven.

They began to meet occasionally and visit various places in and around Calcutta. At times they would seat at the bank of the Ganges in the Botanical Garden at Shibpore and reminisce the nostalgic days at school. They also chalked out their future plans. Both agreed to continue higher studies in the USA after completion of M. A. from Calcutta University and get settled there after marriage.

At times they would quarrel over differences in opinion, e.g. Uttam Kumar vs. Saumitra Chatterjee, Gregory Peck vs. Omar Sheriff, East Bengal vs. Mohun Bagan, Di Stefano vs. Pele, Satyajit Ray vs. Ritwik Ghatak, Bibhutibhusan vs. Manik Banerjee, Hemingway vs. Faulkner etc. Each would argue strongly to establish the supremacy of his favorites but at the end they would come to the conclusion in the Kantian way that likes and dislikes are purely subjective matters and cannot be subjected to reasoning.

It was drizzling from the very morning and Sandip and Arati strolled down the Red Road and sat in a bench in the Victoria Memorial Park. They folded the umbrellas and began to sing in chorus rain-songs while the droplets of rain drenched them. The ambience became mystic; things at distance were dimly visible through the hazy veil. They felt as though they are floating in an uncanny world. They stopped singing and looking at each other's eyes got submerged in dream, the dream of a blissful future.

III

Some student leaders were expelled from college because of their violent and unruly behavior in a library run by a foreign institution. The Students' Union called a students' strike and blocked the gates of the college preventing entry of the students. They demanded that the expelled students be taken back unconditionally but the college authorities unambiguously expressed their inability. Some of the teachers started taking classes at their residences and Sandip and Arati chalked out their own study plans. Some student leaders were arrested but communist students of all the colleges in Calcutta and the Communist Party of India-Marxist (CPI-M) backed the striking students and the strike continued indefinitely. Virtually no classes could be held for the entire session and the students had to appear at the university examination without attending any classes.

In spite of all these hazards both Sandip and Arati secured first class in B. A. and got admitted to M. A. class. Sandip shifted to the P. G. Hostel at Rani Swarnamoyee Road. Unlike the under graduate hostel, this new hostel had more freedom as the super did not reside in the hostel premises.

In the mean time State Assembly Elections were held and the Congress party was defeated and the United Front (UF) Government came to power in West Bengal. The CPI-M was an important constituent of the U. F. Government and after coming to power they went back on their promises to the students and directed them to immediately call off the strike unconditionally but the adamant Students' Union ignored the directive and severed connection with the party. Then like a bolt from the blue the Naxalbari uprising overwhelmed the UF government. It was led by a section of the CPI-M but they severed connection with the party while the police ministry controlled by the latter took ruthless action to repress the uprising. The revolutionists formed a new party called Communist Party of India-Marxist Leninist (CPI-ML) and the striking students joined the new party. At the very beginning, the Naxalite Kanai Chatterjee differed with the CPI-ML Supremo Charu Majumdar (CM) and formed a Naxalite faction called Maoist Communist Center (MCC). Soon there were other splits. Tarimala Nagi Reddy, Kondapalli Seetharamaiah, Satyanarayan Singh, Nagbhusan Patnaik, Vinod Mishra etc. formed their own factions. These factions went on splitting up into sub-factions and there were eventually dozens of extremist factions. But CM's CPI-ML became the dominant faction and soon unleashed havoc in entire West Bengal and other parts of India.

The P. G. hostel was a den of the Naxalite students. Sandip was at first skeptical about the Naxalite movement but he liked the Naxalite boys in the hostel for their dedication and amiable behavior, but he always showed disinterest whenever they tried to discuss politics with him. One day while Sandip was taking tea from Balaram's canteen, Tridib, a Naxalite, handed him a made-easy Bengali book on Marxism but Sandip declined to read it. He said, "You better give me the original works." Tridib replied, "I don't have any such books. Better I'll introduce you to Bechuda who reads the originals. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes." Sandip said, "I know Bechuda, your bespectacled leader who always wears a brown khaddar punjabi and a white pajama."

"So tomorrow afternoon I'll take you from your room to Bechuda's mess."

"O.K., I'll be ready.

At the mess at Creek Row, Sandip talked with Bechu for hours and he was highly impressed by the fiery arguments of the latter. Bechu too was impressed at Sandip's willingness to read the originals which very few Naxalite boys read and very few of those who read understand. Bechu introduced Sandip to a footpath bookstall owner at College Street and Sandip bought three books of Engels which were then available at the stall and these books published from Moscow were very cheap. For the next few days he read Frederick Engels' 'Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State', 'Dialectics of Nature' and 'Socialism: Utopian and Scientific'. The books were pleasant reading and impressed him deeply and he resolved to read all the Marxian literature. Gradually he bought and read all the works of Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin, Mao Tse-tung (Mao Zedong) and a few books by Anwar Hojja and Lin Piao (Lin Biao) and the diary of Ernesto Che Guevara. He occasionally discussed these books with Bechu who was astonished at Sandip's tenacity and quest of knowledge. He himself had read only a few books and opted for having Marxian lessons from Sandip. These books brought about a thorough change in the thought process of Sandip. It dawned on him that his careerism in a world replete with human sufferings is but narrow selfishness and he resolved to give up his self-centered pursuits and offer himself to the service of suffering mankind and his proposal to join the Naxalites made Bechu highly elated. He introduced Sandip to higher party leaders who readily inducted him to their party.

He joined the fellow Naxalites in processions, pasting of the party's mouthpiece Deshabrati on a board at roadside and writing on the walls of the city Slogans of Mao like:

'Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun'

'Imperialism and all reactionaries are paper tigers'

'A single spark can start a prairie fire'

Slogans of Lin like:

'We want to tell the US imperialists once again that if they impose war on us, the vast ocean of several hundred million Chinese people would submerge their few million aggressor troops'

Slogans of CM like:

'China's chairman is our chairman and China's path is our path'

This and most other violent slogans of CM and ones relating to murder of the landlords and other 'class enemies' that included the members of other political parties and other Naxalite factions, beheading of the statues of distinguished personalities, burning of educational institutions etc. were dubbed eccentric by the other Naxalite factions. Sandip was most impressed by the slogan of CM:

"Make the Decade of the Seventies the Decade of Liberation" and the gospel of Mao for the youths:

"The world is yours as well as ours but in the ultimate analysis it is yours. You young people, full of vigor and vitality, are in the bloom of life like the sun of eight or nine in the morning. Our hope is placed on you."

Sandip wrote an article.

"If any thoughtful person observes with insight the global human scenario, he cannot but be bewildered by the striking contrast in the juxtaposition of dazzling riches and loathsome poverty, posh dwellings houses and stinking slums, and the fine blending of gorgeously attired patricians and bare bodied, semi-naked or shabbily dressed commoners; the merriment in the well lighted cosmopolis and the abject miseries of the gloomy hinterlands; the scintillating opulence and suffocating indigence in eternal contrast and he might even be overwhelmed by the sudden zooming in of the ghastly reality (as though in a Hitchcock horror film), the inner story of our glorious civilization, the haunting shadows of poverty, deprivation and oppression lurking behind the hallmarks of human civilization – the lofty Pyramids, the invincible Chinese Wall, the exquisite Tajmahal, the magnificent architectures and technological marvels.

The Marxian theory of the historical process of development of human civilization gives an excellent account of the genesis of poverty, inequality, ruthless oppression and exploitation of one group of men by the other and the despicable deprivation of the majority of global population. Marx divides the process of the development of human society till his time into four stages – primitive communism, slave society, feudalism and capitalism. He predicts that capitalism would be replaced by socialism, which after a long tortuous process would ultimately dissolve into Communism – the classless, stateless blissful society.

At the first stage, during primitive communism, poverty in the modern sense did not exist (in the modern sense poverty is meaningful only when its opposite, viz. opulence exists). It was simply limitation of amenities applicable to all members of a clan, because of limited knowledge to explore natural resources to meet human requirements. These clan societies were characterized by equality.

Man-Nature conflict gradually led to improvement in methods of production – man gradually having more and more command over Nature with his increasing scientific knowledge. With the acceleration if this process, by increasing the intensity of social division of labor, surplus over and above consumption requirements started emerging and at the same time, human values pertaining to fellow feeling and equality started degenerating into slavery – oppression of one class of people by another.

With the mergence of money, the most convenient medium of exchange and the parasitic merchant class, the process of property ownership and accumulation of wealth by a few and the consequent poverty and inequality were further crystallized.

Continued material progress, made possible by man's increasing command over Nature, ultimately paved the way for the Industrial Revolution, which ushered in the capitalistic or bourgeois society. Capitalism enhanced the pace of materialistic development but at the same time it facilitated more ruthless exploitation of the labor class turning them into proletariats.

As regards the cause of oppression, exploitation and inequality along with material progress, Marx and Engels held class society and the institution of private property responsible and considered the existing State Machinery to be the protector of private property perpetuating the consequent maladies. So they insisted on overthrowing it with the help of the weapon of 'class struggle', and replacing it by the Socialist State ruled by and protecting the interests of the proletariats and all the oppressed classes.

Even after establishment of the Socialist State, class struggle would continue and pave the way for gradual weakening and ultimate complete withering away of the State Machinery ushering in Communism – the classless society without private property and its concomitants, the family, competition and division of labor – a stage of supreme bliss.

Regarding the transition from socialism to communism the initial process was devised first by Mao Tse-tung. He wrote many articles on the process of the Cultural Revolution through which minds of people would be refined and the hang-over of class society would gradually be erased from the minds of people. His spectacular contribution was that of New Democracy for the Semi-feudal Semi-colonial countries like China, India and the other Third-World countries where capitalism could not complete its process – the colonial rulers have initiated capitalism only to the extent needed for colonial exploitation. In these countries the proletariat labor class should join hands with the petit bourgeois peasant class (the majority of the exploited people) to bring about 'bourgeois democratic revolution' under the leadership of the Communist Party led by the 'advanced detachment' of the proletariats. Then the direct transition to socialism (without recourse to capitalism) is to be brought about through 'great leaps', completion of the process of capitalistic development under the control of the Socialistic State."

Bechu made several hand-written copies of the article and sent to the leaders at the higher echelon. The article got high acclaim from the Naxalite leaders and Sandip was given a high position in the Naxalite Party as a teacher and theoretician of Marxism and Maoism.

Sandip did not disclose anything to Arati but she could guess from the change of his behavior as he started avoiding her under various excuses. She wanted to warn him against the dangerous path he's chosen but he did not give her any such opportunity.

Sandip decided to give up 'bourgeois-education' and join the Red Guards. He was sent by the party to Sagar dwip for the propagation of Maoist doctrine among the masses and to prepare them for revolutionary upsurge. He was directed not to discuss with the illiterate masses difficult theories but to read out from only the Red Book of Mao and articles of CM published in Deshabrati.

It was a three hours' journey by train from Sealdah to Kandwip. The boy accompanying him took him to the bank of the Ganges by an open van; then they hired a boat for Sagardvip. The jolting journey by the van was new experience and the vast Ganges looking like an ocean enchanted Sandip. Here the Ganges has split up into two vast branches both of which fall into the Bay of Bengal, keeping the Sagar Island at the middle. The eastern branch is called Muriganga and the western branch retains the name Hooghly, the name of the River Ganges by the city of Calcutta.

In ancient times this was the site for the mythological Ashram of the great sage Kapil Muni and is, from time immemorial, a place of pilgrimage of the devout Hindus who every year, on the sankranti (last day) of the Bengali month of Paus, take sacred baths in the Bay of Bengal at the southern end of the island near the temple of the Muni. During the last two millennia or more the shores of the island had been devoured by the sea several times and new temples had to be constructed at safer places. Hindus believe that a single bath here on the auspicious day removes all sins committed during present and past lives. Sagarmela, a great fare, is held here around Paus sankranti and millions of Hindus from all over India and from abroad congregate to take sacred baths.

According to Hindu mythology, the impudent sixty thousand sons of the king Sagar of Audh had reached this place in quest of the sacrificial horse of the Horse-yajna and found the horse tied to a pole near the place where the Muni was in deep meditation and they thought he had stolen the horse. In fact, with a view to punishing the sons of Sagar and spoil his yajna (which could have enhanced his prowess and become a threat to the kingdom of Indra) Indra, the king of the gods, had stolen the horse and tied it near the meditating Muni. The angry sons roused the Muni and called him thief and at this fire emanating from the eyes of the enraged Muni burnt all the sons of Sagar and their souls got entrapped in the ashes.

After a few generations of futile efforts, Bhagirath (so called because of his birth out of lesbian sex of two queens of the male-less royal family), a male descendant of the Sagar family, was advised by the sages to invite by prayer the river goddess Gangadevi to earth for the salvation of the entrapped souls of his ancestors.

Gangadevi, according to mythology, emerged from Lord Vishnu's feet which had melted at the cosmic song of Lord Shiva. To save the heavens from the vast water, Lord Brahma got her entrapped in his vessel called kamandalu. Bhagirath's prayer satisfied both Brahma and Gangadevi and the Devi agreed to flow down the Earth to Bay of Bengal and salvage the entrapped souls. Lord Shiva agreed to hold her in his matted hair to save the earth from the thrust of her falling down from heaven. By painstaking efforts and prayers Bhagirath could ultimately overcome all the hazards on the way and bring the river-goddess to the island and the souls of his ancestors were salvaged.

Till the nineteenth century this island was uninhabited, was a part of the Sunder ban forest and was infested with Royal Bengal Tigers and other ferocious beasts. Transportation was hazardous and many pilgrims were killed by tigers and snakes and died of epidemics.

Later on some benevolent land lords from Calcutta took lease of the land from the government and undertook development works. Jungles were cleared into fertile cultivable land, a large number of settlers– cultivators, craftsmen, transport operators and small businessmen – from the Midnapore district to the west of the Hooghly River started pouring in. In course of time, villages were founded; schools, a college, hospitals, dharmashalas of religious institutions and hotels were established and the island became a highly populated locality with transport, education and many other amenities and the government came forward to arrange for special transport and medical facilities during Paus sankranti.

Sandip went with a fellow party cadre to a party-supporter's house and was ostensibly assigned the job of the manager of his small food shop serving tea, breakfast, lunch and dinner to the tourists. The man drove his own trekker and his wife cooked food for the customers of the shop and their adolescent son ran the cigarette and pan shop adjacent to the food shop. Sandip was offered a room to stay in the house of the man in a nearby village.

Sandip started liking the rustic men around, learnt to speak their Midnapore dialect and had friendship with many of them. Contact with the villagers soon made him realize that villagers are not what the theoreticians from the towns think about them. Instead of giving them lessons he started taking lessons from them and the foundation of his conviction got a serious jolt. He was to conspire with them to murder landlords and money lenders, but he could not find any opportunity to instigate them, nor did he find acquiescence from his conscience to indulge in such heinous crime. He even failed to answer convincingly their queries about the vandalism and murders committed by the Naxalites, nor could he convince them about the purpose of the movement. Doubts gradually started blossoming in his inner mind.

One day he visited the Bharat Sevashram Sangha opposite the food shop, and met a saffron-clad Swamiji who took Sandip to his room. The Swamiji heard with patience Sandip's life-story and the present disquiet of his mind owing to doubts about his creed. Swamiji talked on the ideals of Swami Pranabananda Maharaj and read out his gospels and Sandip visualized a new world of peace and harmony.

In the mean time, Naxalite movement had degenerated into sheer anarchy and wanton violence. Hooligans in large numbers had infiltrated the ranks of the CPI-ML in West Bengal and Calcutta experienced the unprecedented violence with murder of the members of not only other parties or Naxalite factions but also the dissidents in their own party. Criminals took advantage of the chaotic situation unleashing violence, murder, arson and looting; educational institutions were burnt with slogans, 'down with bourgeois education'; personal enemies were murdered and passed on in the name of Naxalite action. Some Marwari businessmen of Burrabazar of Calcutta made enormous money by selling smuggled foreign arms, weapons and explosives to the Naxalites and the goons. A head clerk of a school defalcated funds and hoodlums hired by him invaded the school at night, burnt the relevant documents in the school office uttering Naxalite slogans and hoisted a red flag. A few urchins had stolen green cocoanut from a tree and while the owner with some neighbors tried to chase them, the boys shrieked out, "Long live Chairman Mao, long live CM." and the men fled in panic. Terror reigned in West Bengal. People did not dare being out of home after evening, no body dared to go to other places or houses of friends and relatives, even known friends could not be trusted. Life in the State became unbearable.

The situation was aggravated by the infighting among the recognized political parties, CPI-M being the most aggressive and successful among them, to capture one another's area of influence. In the district of Burdwan, a gang of criminals invaded a house of a Congress supporter, murdered him brutally and forced her mother to gulp wads of rice dipped in her son's blood.

International scenario too looked ominous for the communists. In China the fact could no longer be hushed up that more than thirty million people had died in the abortive 'Great Leap Forward' and the 'Cultural Revolution' initiated by Mao had degenerated into a power tussle between Lin Piao (Lin Biao), the defense minister of China and Chiang Ching (Jiang Qing), the third wife of Mao, leading to complete anarchy and digging the grave for Maoism in its homeland and paving the way for capitalistic revival under Deng Xiaoping. The clouds of freedom started gathering in the skies of the USSR, East Europe, Cuba, Vietnam and other authoritarian countries scorched by the summer heat of State Capitalism under the guise of socialism.

Eventually, the Central Government under the Prime Minister Mrs. Indira Gandhi was compelled to dissolve the UF Ministry and promulgate President's Rule in West Bengal under Article 356 of the Indian Constitution. Strong measures were taken against the Naxalites and the latter, already disintegrated out of confusion, desertion and infighting, crumbled. Many leaders and thousands of cadres were arrested; some were killed in encounter with the police and the others absconded. The violent actionists the CPI-M went underground. Bechu's maternal uncle, an influential barrister, had already sent him to London with a job in a British firm and through his connections with the police chiefs all cases and allegations against him were withdrawn.

After fall of a few make-shift governments, fresh assembly elections were held and the faction of the Congress Party in power at the Center, came out with resounding victory, a new Indira Congress government was formed and peace returned to West Bengal after five years of terror and turmoil, but it was a peace of grave, all hopes and aspirations of the Bengalis shattered and frustration reigning supreme having a deleterious effect on the rich Bengali Culture – their literature, music, film and academic excellence. The new race that emerged out of the ruins did not bear an iota of semblance with the Great Bengali race. One of the most glorious races on the globe was lost for ever in the quicksand of history.

CM dreamt of making the decade one of liberation, but ironically, it turned out to be the decade of defeat, ignominy, frustration and eternal enslavement to greed, jealousy and hatred.

IV

Sandip met Swamiji and decided to join the Sevashram and Swamiji advised him to return home first and meet his suffering mother, resume studies and meet their chief at Ballygunge.

Sandip came back to their house at Burdwan and his mother, who had been bed ridden since her son joined the Naxalite movement, could not keep her joy to get back her lost son. Pradip was busy at business office. Sandip's sister-in-law and the nephew and niece were happy at the return of Sandip. The kids remained clung to him and started pouring in hundreds of questions about the places their uncle had visited during the last few years. Sandip, tired of tedious journey and feeling drowsy, decided to have dinner early. His sister-in-law had prepared polao of basmati rice and rich chicken curry. The two women and the children gathered around the dining table. Halfway through the dinner, all of them were startled at the heavy thuds of boots and Pradip rushed into the room with a police inspector and a few constables. They did not give Sandip opportunity to finish dinner, not even to wash mouth and hands and arrested him ignoring the entreaties of the wailing women and the shrieks of the children. His mother fell unconscious and died that night of heart failure. Pradip tried to convince his wife that he had done this for Sandip's safety as the Naxalites would have killed the renegade had he been out of jail. But she did not utter a word and left with the children to her parents' house at Durgapur and never returned. Real design of Pradip to appropriate Sandip's share of paternal property was crystal clear to her. Later on they divorced and Pradip married again. Sandip had learnt about the happenings in his family after his arrest from a kind police constable at the jail. After moving from jail to jail he was finally taken to the Central Jail at Alipore of Calcutta.

V

After thorough check up, the doctor did not find any serious problem with Sandip's health except mildly low blood pressure, hemoglobin deficiency and some bronchial congestion. Proper food, medication and rest would soon remove the troubles the doctor assured. Unlike many Naxalites in the jail or police custody, Sandip was lucky not being subjected to the horrible Third Degree. He was a pure theoretician and the police could not find any evidence of violence on his part. Moreover the Swamiji at Balligunge had produced before a high level police officer, one of his disciples, a letter of Sandip in which he had denounced the violent activities of the Naxalites and opted to quit and return to normal life.

Bechu's wife was a simple and cordial lady and treated Sandip like her own brother. Her three year old son soon won the heart of Sandip. After considerable recovery Bechu took him to the site of construction at Brahmapur at the southern outskirts of the city, instructed him what to do and introduced him to the contractors. It was a large housing complex for the middle class families and surrounded by rural areas. The spot was beautiful and Sandip liked the job. Every morning a Japanese-make Datsun-120Y car would take him to the spot and he would return home after day's work of supervision. The work was very simple and he got plenty of time to roam around in the car, have lunch from a restaurant at Garia and gossip with different classes of people – the contractors, masons, laborers and customers visiting the complex.

After his return the child would hang around him insisting Sandip to play with him. He had plenty of toys, picture books and devices for children's games. The child would often make Sandip crawl and he would ride on his back making Sandip a horse. The mood of the child changed off and on and Sandip had to struggle hard to keep pace with his changing moods as non compliance would make the child shriek and cry. At times the child would ride his lap and entwining Sandip's neck entreat in a sweet voice, "Tatu atta gappo ba-o" (soft 't' as in French la table) [uncle tell me a story; adults would say, 'kaku ekta galpo balo'] and Sandip would tell him stories of ghosts, goblins, kings and animals and the child would laugh aloud, raise eye brows in surprise, embrace Sandip in fear and become sad according to the nuances of the stories. Sometimes he would make his own stories and lisp them out in his charming half uttered language.

How happy he felt after long suffering and enslavement! It was good luck that Bechuda came upon him, unconscious on the roadside. Coming out of the jail after release he had no where to go. He could not return to his brother who had invited the police to get him arrested in order to appropriate paternal property. Friends and other relatives would never entertain an ex-Naxalite and political detainee. Still the fresh air, the views of the outside world and the sense of freedom after years of confinement revived his spirits. He trudged along ignoring the languor, looked with keen delight at the National Library, the zoo, the stream of busy pedestrians and the fast moving lines of cars and while he reached near the race course, the panoramic view that opened up exhilarated his heart. He wanted to cross the road and walk towards Victoria Memorial but the fast moving cars along the road prevented him from taking risk with his weak legs. So he started tottering along the sidewalk eastward. He wobbled along notwithstanding dizziness but while he reached the junction of the J. Nehru Road he felt the world undulating, everything swaying before his eyes and a dark cloud engulfed him.

VI

On his way back from the site Sandip got out the car at Gariahata to buy a toy for the child and a boy on the footpath handed him a leaflet of a Democratic Rights Organization. The organization has alleged the government and the police for ill-treating the political detainees, inhuman tortures of the Naxalites in jail and police custody, crippling and killing many of them. There's a long list of young boys, some brilliant students with bright future in the two categories many of whom were known to Sandip.

Sandip could not sleep at night. Once Bechuda had instigated many such unfortunate youths to join the extremist movement and now he himself is in perfect safely, lolling in luxury. As soon as the Left Front Government, dominated by the CPI-M, returned to power in 1977, Bechu returned from London and joined the CPI-M and soon he got a high position in the party. He started the construction business and by means of party connections became a big promoter in no time.

Sandip felt a prick of conscience that he is trying to return to safe and prosperous life with the assistance of this heinous betrayer who is responsible for the ruin of so many bright students. He resolved to leave his house and the job at once and dedicate himself to the philanthropic programs of the Sevashram, but his deep love and attachment to the child prevented him from leaving and he began swaying between two minds.

It started raining heavily and construction works had to be stopped for the day. Sandip directed the driver of his car to go back and he took a taxi for the Victoria Memorial and sat on a bench close to the bush of multi-colored kalabati flowers lining a small beautiful pond. It was now drizzling and in the haze the esplanade unraveled the mystic fairyland again. He closed his eyes and felt on his face the coolness of the droplets of rain and started reciting from a poem of Boris Pasternak:

"I have allowed my family to scatter

All my dear ones are dispersed

A lifelong loneliness

Fills nature and my heart"

He felt a sharp pain at the left of his chest. Arati extended her hand and they wafted across the sky into the clouds and beyond to the dreamland of bliss.

III. The Terrorist's Leaflet

Hello, doing your morning walk?

The loud voice made me look back without any conscious effort. I had already recognized from the voice, the sub-inspector residing just three houses away from my newly constructed rural house. In fact, he was my first acquaintance and may be the most well known person in this new unfamiliar place. He on his own made acquaintance with me as soon as I started constructing the house. This helped me in three ways. First I got some garrulous person to spend the odious time of looking over construction work (he had very little job in the police station of this extremely peaceful locality, and his absence was desirable for obvious reasons to constables and other subordinate staff). Second, my intimate friendship (as it appeared) with the police officer made the masons and suppliers of building materials cooperate with me in a way more than expected. Third, the local clubs exempted me from the subscription considered due from any new comer.

Now he was in his police jeep, stopped just a few yards from me. I replied promptly, Good morning daroga sahib, so early? Has anything serious happened stealing, robbery, murder? I expressed surprise as this was something unexpected from him who never rises from bed before eight in the morning. And then too, takes two more hours doing this and that.

Something far more serious than robbery or murder, there were unquestionable signs of worry in his voice. Professor, I don't think I would be able to enjoy your precious company for a long time. I cant help it. I'm soon going to take help of my IPS relative for a transfer. He has much influence in the political circle.

Sure Id miss you if you're transferred. But what prompts you to take such a drastic decision. This is the best of the places so far police job is concerned, unless one is after bad money. There was real surprise in my tone.

He motioned me to come near the jeep and leaning to my ear whispered (as though he was uttering something terribly inauspicious), the terrorists, now they have made their unholy appearance in our locality also.

This really panicked me. I had built this house after retirement just to have some peace. I had to work hard as a teacher and academic administrator for long years. Now I need some respite. But if the sub-inspector is right, all my hopes are on the way of being shattered.

What have they done: murder, mine-laying, bomb blast?

No, they have yet to go that far, but soon these will happen, its just the beginning, they have just made entry into our locality.

How do you know? It may be simply a guess work, or concoction by some rural folk just to play practical joke on you?

The sub-inspector laughed aloud, How do you imagine that the simple rural folk would have the audacity to play jokes on me. Can you spare an hour, so that you may see with your own eyes? If you need toilets and all that Ill arrange for it.

I accepted his offer right away. I've heard much about these awesome creatures, the terrorists, but never had the opportunity to see with my own eyes anything of their activities. And it is safe now this officer would never go with only one lean and sickly constable if there is anything risky.

It was a pleasant journey along the jerky narrow rural roadway gliding jig-jag through the paddy fields adorned with golden ripe paddy, tiny birds chirping here and there, a queer smell of earth and unknown wild flowers, and above all the sweet mildly cool breeze of a summer morning. The jeep hitched to a halt near a dilapidated wall, bricks eroded by salty air. The sub-inspector almost jumped out of the jeep and remained standstill with his horrified eyes affixed at the middle of the crumbling wall. My eyes moved in his direction to the very spot of the wall, a beautifully painted picture of Mao Zedong, the clearness of smiling Chinese face and the red cap calls for praise for the painter. So this is the source of panic and desire of the police officer to leave this place as soon as possible! I got down from the jeep and stood alongside the sub-inspector.

Have you seen, the bewildered shaky voice queried. I looked intently at the picture.

Are you sure the real Maoists have done this? It may as well be some benign enthusiastic sympathizer, say some romantic self-styled revolutionary.

May be and may not be, but Ill try my best for transfer anyway. e looked gloomy and thoughtful.

Upon returning home I pondered over the matter and many possibilities went through my restless mind. My wife was a bit worried to find me morose and thoughtful and said, I've forbidden again and again to taking the morning walk. At this age you cannot endure the cold morning breeze. You must have caught head cold. Take some simple Homeopathic med.

Okay Ill do. I said just to get rid of her verbiage.

I decided to contact the young journalist whom I happened to meet in the last conference of the college teachers. Mr. Banerjee got elated to hear my voice over telephone and said ebulliently, How are you uncle?

Fine. I've some important talks with you but cannot discuss the matter over telephone. Will you be home tonight?

I've some important work today and may return home late. So better call on me tomorrow evening.

Residence of the journalist was at the nearest suburban town about twelve kilometers from my house. I was cordially welcome by Banerjee, his wife and their son, a class VII student of a convent. Over tea, I related the last mornings incident and my worries over it. Banerjee admitted that the terrorists are no doubt making inroads into tribal villages close to ours but fortunately our village cannot be their target as there's no tribal in this middle class village. He also told that the black-dragons with their heinous activities pertaining to indiscriminate raping of tribal females and trafficking in women and narcotics are responsible for the invasion of the terrorists. Getting no justice from the police and government authorities the tribal people have invited the terrorists only who could rescue them from the black-dragons, they think. The terrorists have gladly accepted the invitation as this gives them a golden opportunity to expand their sphere of influence. Banerjee, along with some other intrepid young journalists, could arrange an interview at a secret place in the deep forest, with the terrorists who told categorically that it was their moral duty to help the poor tribal people against the torture of the black-dragons.

My village, he assured again, was not a tribal village and operating center of the black-dragons and therefore nothing to do with the terrorists. The problem of the police officer was that most of the adjacent tribal villages fall within the jurisdiction of his police station and it was quite natural that terrorist insurgence in these villages would be a headache to him.

Three days after I had visited the journalist, a man was murdered at a village five kilometers from ours. It was a gruesome murder and everyone in our village got panic stricken. The house of the man was ransacked and, thereafter, set fire on. Media men reported strongly that the administration was doing nothing to curb terrorist activities and a political party claimed that the victim was an important member of their party and terrorists were murdering their party men selectively.

The police officer was awfully perturbed and panicked and applied for a few days leave which was denied by the higher authorities. He poured out his grievances to me acrimoniously and told that he was thinking about resigning from his job. Life is more important than job, he said sadly. Banerjee had visited the spot and he told me over telephone that the victim was an erstwhile notorious member of the black-dragons and had been involved in the past in gang-raping of tribal women.

Basir Ahmad was terribly panicked to learn about the murder and hastened to the local hideout of the black-dragons. Ostensibly it was an ordinary land brokers office. Basir advanced toward the inner door of the office, told the gateman there the password and he was ushered into an underground room. The chief looked up and said jovially, hello Basir how are things going?

Not very good sir, Basir said meekly.

What's wrong?

The recent murder sir.

What has it got to do with you? He was not in your team.

I'm actually talking about the infiltration of the terrorists in villages in my operating area. It would now be almost impossible, by cajoling or by force, to pick up the beautiful tribal girls Ive been assigned to.

I don't want to hear this lame excuse from you, the leader raised his voice in anger. Its you who is responsible for inviting the terrorists. We are offering you money to coax out girls from tribal villages and taking advantage of protection against law of our party, you are indulging in raping women indiscriminately. Now go back and pick up those girls by whatever means you can within the specified time. Terrorists and all that, its your problem and you yourself take care of them. We here only want the girls in time.

But I cant do it right at this moment, Basir mumbled. Terrorists are now lurking in the forests around and they have informers among the villagers. My name too is in their hit list for sure.

I don't want to hear all these nonsensical stuff. You are to accomplish the assignment anyway.

Cant you wait a few more days and let things settle down. We could shift our activities for some time to other safe villages and terrorists would not be hunting us after some time.

You and your team are accustomed to only these areas. You would be useless in new areas unknown to you. That means you're putting forth some ruse so that you may spend time idly and loll around safely on our money. Furthermore, these girls are for export and not for the harems of the leaders; contracts for supply with important foreign parties have already been signed and the girls are to be handed over to them in time. We have our goodwill after all. Ill be in trouble with the leaders if I fail to supply the girls in time.

Basir got utterly unnerved and panicked and made the last effort.

Sir, I may try my best but your mission could by no means come to fruition at this moment. I and members of my team would simply be annihilated by the terrorists. If your target is simply to get rid of me shoot me right now and you could hide the dead body safely. Sir, cant you undertake, as in the past, large scale invasion with say three to five hundred men to frighten the terrorists and the villagers and in the chaos we could safely abduct the girls.

Its absurd, the leader laughed affably. Basir sahib, these terrorists are not stuffs to be terrorized by sheer numbers. They have sophisticated modern weapons which can by no means be outmatched by sheer numbers. Moreover, media men and the higher authorities are keeping strict watch and we cannot do those things any more without being detected. Anyway, I understand your problem and thinking about an alternative. Wait for a while and let me discuss it over with my colleagues.

Keeping Basir seated on the sofa the leader and his followers entered the adjacent smaller room and shut the door.

Basir became remorse and regretted that he had been lured by money to join this notorious gang leaving behind his family in Bangladesh. Faces of his wife and the charming daughter came to his mind and tears rolled down his cheeks. Now he has no way out. He would be killed either by the terrorists or the black-dragons. Even if the latter do not kill him out of mercy, they would hand him over to the police with evidence of all his past crimes he had committed for them.

The leader returned and said gaily, All of us have agreed to the full-proof solution. You or any other member of your team need not go to the tribal villages yourselves. I think you know poor landless laborers in the border areas.

Yes sir. In the past many of them worked in my tam of bootlegging and drug trafficking.

Then contact these poor laborers and lure them by offering sumptuous money to enter the tribal villages under the guise of job seekers.

Yes I can do that, Basis felt some relief.

Then you chalk out a plan how they would pick up the girls and make the plan clear to them. They can do it at midnight safely.

That's not a bad idea. I'm soon going to contact these laborers in the border villages.

Do it without any delay. Here's a bundle of money for their payments. Contact me if you need more.

Basir left off jubilantly. But soon doubt invaded his thought and the operation by those nave laborers appeared to be an impossible task. It did not occur to him at that moment, but the shrewd leader must be aware of it. Then what was in his mind to suggest me to indulge in such an absurd project? Basir said to himself. Then the reason flashed across his mind all on a sudden, and the hidden motive of the leader became crystal clear to him.

There's no doubt that the poor laborers lured by money would be killed by the terrorist while they would attempt to abduct the girls. There would be news paper reports that terrorists are killing poor laborers and this would tarnish the mass image of the terrorists to the advantage of the political party that sponsors the black-dragons. No, he cannot risk the lives of innocent laborers to save himself. He would have to escape to Bangladesh before the leader has any doubt about his intensions. He's to do it right now.

Basir returned right to his den and without undressing dug up the hidden money, stacked all his money and garments in a bag and hurried out. It was midnight and the road to the border would be lonely now. Yet he is to advance very cautiously keeping to the side of the road lined by thickets and bamboo groves. He has acquaintances with border guards and bribing them he could easily cross over the borders and would be beyond the reach of the black-dragons. If he can walk at this rate he would make the border by dawn. He heaved a sigh of relief.

He crossed the paddy fiends and took the railway track and then turned into the dust road that runs meanderingly through thickets, bushes and bamboo groves to the border. No vehicles were in sight and Basir's mind drifted to his family, his wife and the happy life of a poor cultivator he used to lead before his greed for money got him enmeshed in the satanic world. He asked to Allah for forgiveness for his misdeed and promised never to be involved in such heinous activities again. Two trucks separate by hundred feet came up the road and Basir hid in time into the bushy drain at the side of the road and from his hideout he saw they are smugglers vehicles. For a while no other vehicle perturbed him. He then noticed a motor cycle coming from the other side. He hurried into the close by bamboo grove and waited patiently for the bike to pass off. He heard the bike stop nearby and then all of a sudden heard the gruff voice, Basir mia, you think yourself too smart!

Basir swiveled fast and was terrified to notice two masked figures pointing barrels of pistols at him.

A voice roared, you filthy traitor!

Police and newspaper men gathered around the spot and took snaps of the dead body of Basir and the terrorist leaflets spread around. The police officer looked awe stricken brooding over the injustice done to him by the authorities. He must resign and look for some other more safe and dignified job. Once again a political party claimed Basir to be an important member of their party and the usual allegation against the terrorists.

Banerjee came to my house and showed me the terrorist leaflet he had picked up from the spot. I wore his specs and started reading the message in the leaflet with rapt attention. Banerjee interrupted and said calmly, Uncle, one thing is very funny about the leaflet. The terrorists never use this type of paper nor the printing font.

IV. Goddess Mansa And Bhrigu's Mirror

The sage Bhrigu was elated and at the same time perturbed to learn from the celestial sage Narada that goddess Mansa was interested in meeting him and she would be obliged if he fixed his convenient time for her visit to his ashram and inform this to her through Narada. He was elated because his ashram at higher heavens had never been visited by any gods or goddesses ever since he had incurred the displeasure of Lord Shiva by opposing him at the time of beheading of King Dakshma. Mansa is the most favored daughter of Shiva and she is extremely powerful. Her visit may ease his relation with Shiva and his ashram accepted by the gods and goddesses. But the motives of this quirky goddess were unpredictable even by the greatest astrologer and visionary like Bhrigu. She being extremely cruel, power mongering and unhesitant to adopt any unfair means to fulfill her desires, Bhrigu got a bit perturbed at the same time. But denial would be disastrous for him. So he replied the letter of the goddess by expressing his sincere thanks to her and fixed a date for her visit. Narada left with the mail with the expectation that some complications would result from the visit of the goddess to Bhrigu's ashram and he would enjoy it.

Bhrigu directed his disciples to take immaculate preparations to welcome the goddess and make ample provision for all conceivable amenities liked by the goddess. His mind again got filled with worries. She could request him to do something complicated that might lead to other problems for him. But it would also be perilous to deny her request. He remembered what she had done to the merchant Chand to force him to worship her.

On the day of her visit the sage was agitated from the very dawn but his tensions were removed as the goddess entered the ashram with smiling face and pleasant demeanor. She was dressed as an ordinary woman with a simple sari and a necklace adorned with a diamond locket designed like the head of a serpent. He was relieved that she had not worn any necklace of living snakes. Notwithstanding her blind eye, she looked so beautiful and enchanting even in the simple outfit that everyone got spellbound to watch her entering slowly the gate of the ashram amidst blowing of conch shells and sprinkling of petals of heavenly flowers. She was a bit embarrassed while the disciples of the sage started offering her pranam being prostrated at her feet. Then the sage came forward to receive her and they exchanged pranams with folded hands. Brigu's mind was filled with ecstasy and pride as the goddess addressed him father.

The goddess said politely, 'I must tell you about my purpose of this visit. This is a very simple task on your part. You are the greatest forecaster of future in the universe and I'm interested only in the future of the country Prasi.'

Bhrigu replied, 'goddess, it's a very simple task for me. Now you take rest and visit the ashram for some time and I'll call you to my room after completion of my meditation.'

He then directed his trusted disciples to show her to the guest room and help her according to her wish.

The goddess thanked the sage and left with his disciples. Now all his apprehensions dissipated and Bhrigu completed his meditation peacefully and thereafter informed the goddess by a disciple that she might call on his room if she was ready. After a while the goddess entered his room and the sage offered her a beautiful soft asana made of heavenly velvet and painted with a large lotus at the middle. He then took out a mirror from a shelf and handed it to the goddess saying, 'this is a magic mirror. You cannot see your image in it.' The goddess took the mirror close to her god eye and said, 'yes, it looks dark and what I'm to do with this mirror.'

Bhrigu smiled sweetly and said, 'you now think of Prasi and the future time period you are interested in. You'll immediately be taken to the history of the country during that period. But at first you should concentrate on the matter of your interest sweeping off all other thoughts from your mind.'

Mansa closed her eyes to concentrate on the future of Prasi and while she opened her eyes she was astonished to find herself transported amidst the future of Prasi and series of events started flowing before her bewildered eyes. She looked back at Bhrigu and exclaimed, 'what a wonderful mirror it is!' Bhrigu said, 'but watching random flow of events would not serve your purpose. So tell me in detail your exact purpose and the specific events you want to watch. Then I'll redirect the mirror and you would find only the specific events that would serve your goal.'

Mansa handed him back the mirror and started her story from the very beginning.

The funny celestial sage Narada used to rejoice complications and quarrels among gods and goddesses and his mind was always filled with naughty designs to foment such disputes. One morning while he was roaming across the sky on his flying machine, he noticed the serpent goddess Mansa happily dancing in her flower garden. Her merriment was not at all pleasant to Narada and suddenly an idea struck him to make her angry with Lord Shiva, her loving father. He immediately dropped to her garden and Mansa greeted him with creased forehead to decipher the motive in his mind. She, however, honored the sage-god in a courteous tone requested him for refreshment. Narada replied that he had no time for refreshment as he was deeply worried about the goddess. Mansa squinted her good eye (the other eye had been destroyed by her step mother Chandi), and asked about the reason for his worry. Narada replied in a sad tone, 'goddess, I sincerely feel sorry for you that you're not getting the honor you deserve from your father Shiva.' Mansa got agitated, 'you're mistaken sage. I'm the most favorite daughter of Shiva.' Narada replied smiling, 'the facts do not substantiate your conviction. You're no doubt one of the most powerful deities and capable of exterminating any evil force, but you've never been sent by Shiva as incarnate on earth to eradicate evil forces whereas Lord Vishnu and Mother Chandi have several times been entrusted with that noble and glorious task. I think this is but a gross injustice to you on the part of your father.'

Mansa flew into rage and vowed to seek redress from Shiva in no time. She thanked Narada for reminding her of the injustice she had been meted with.. Narada left happily expecting a quarrel between Lord Shiva and her garrulous daughter. Mansa in an agitated mood proceeded for Kailas the recluse of Lord Shiva, to meet her father. As soon as she entered Kailas the land quaked by the vehemence of her anger and everyone started fleeing in panic. As soon as she reached near the meditating Shiva, his deep meditation broke and opening his eyes he found his beloved daughter in an agitated mood. He said in affectionate tone, 'my sweet daughter why do you look so aggrieved and unhappy?'

Mansa burst into weeping and replied in an angry tone, 'don't call me sweet daughter any more. I'm your bad and neglected daughter.'

Shiva at first got flummoxed at her sudden outburst but closing his eyes he could vision that foul play of the incorrigible Narada who had nothing to do but foment trouble. He patted her on the head and replied in a placatory tone, 'I'm very sorry that you've not been sent down to earth to exterminate the demons, but next time you would be the first choice. Now tell me daughter which place of the earth you prefer for the birth of your incarnate.'

Mansa now collected herself and apologized for her rough behavior with Shiva and said, 'I'm very popular among the people of the Prasi country and widely worshipped there. So I want to born as an incarnate in that country only.' Shiva squinted and thought for a while and said, 'but there's one problem in this regard. Prasi is a very peaceful country and completely free from evil. An incarnate is sent only to destroy evil forces and without the existence of evil forces there's no necessity of sending an incarnate. And what would the incarnate do if there's no evil? You better select some evil infested place.' Mansa stubbornly replied, 'my lone choice is Prasi and I don't like to go to any other place. In future there could be evil forces in the now peaceful Prasi.' Shiva smiled and said, 'certainly if there be evil forces in Prasi, no body else but you would be sent there as an incarnate. Now cheer up and go back to your palace and wait patiently for the propitious time.'

Shiva once again closed his eyes and went into deep meditation. On her way back Mansa thought that if there be no evil in Prasi in near future she would have to generate such evil forces by her magic power. But first she ought to know the courses of future history of the land. She thought it would be wise to seek advice of Narada in this regard. She called the sage by telepathy and Narada immediately appeared before her. Learning about her predicament, he told her that that the sage Bhrigu, the greatest astrologer, was the lone person in the universe to predict the future courses of history of Prasi. So to meet her query she would have to call at him in his ashram in the higher heavens. 'But' Nrada added, 'he is in disfavor of your father and your visit to his ashram may incur his displeasure.' Mansa replied, 'I'll look into it that my father is not displeased. Now can you help me by dispatching my letter requesting an appointment to the sage?' 'Certainly.'

Narada got elated to predict the anger of Shiva at his daughter's visit to his arch enemy. Mansa wrote the letter and Narada flew immediately to Bhrigu's ashram to dispatch the letter. The positive reply came in no time and now she was in his ashram in front of Bhrigu.

Bhrigu listened to her story with rapt attention and after she had finished, replied smiling 'I've now understood what I'm to show you in the mirror. You are very fortunate daughter as ominous looks of the planet-god Shani is soon going to fall on Prasi destroying all its peace and making the land a honey comb for the evil forces.' He handed her the mirror and as soon as the goddess looked into the mirror a series of historical episodes in the future of Prasi started flowing before her eyes.

Episode-I consisted of a series of scenes depicting the degenerated condition of the prosperous and peaceful Prasi:

Rulers of Prasi have become corrupt and inefficient and jungle rule prevails. Houses have become dilapidated and musty; there are signs of poverty and indigence of the masses strikingly contrasted by pomp and merriment of the few rich people. Cumming people are conspiring in closed rooms to exploit the masses and become richer in a short span of time. Hooligans are busy with smuggling and trafficking in drug and women. Corrupt politicians organize the criminals under a gang called Durmads and soon most of the criminals of the country get organized in its fold. The gang unleashes horror on common people by extorting money and property of the people, rampant raping their females and selling them to brothels and foreign traffickers in prostitutes. People, unable to endure torture, rise in revolt, but lack of leadership and clear thinking turns their revolt into chaos and anarchy further enhancing their misery.

Siddhasur comes to the scene and manages to assume the throne by removing the powerless king. He assures people that he would remove their misery and bring back peace and prosperity of the country. By his strong rule he manages to drive out the Durmads and suppress the anarchic revolt. But soon he reveals his demonic character by renewing exploitation and oppression of the people. He gives the rich people and criminals absolute freedom and legal protection to exploit common people. People again rise in revolt and Siddhasur suppresses the revolt by the cruelest means. There is wanton killing of people, many of them completely innocent and having no connection with the revolution, by his police force and toughs.

Episode-2 depicted a horrible carnage of people by the goons of Siddhasur:

Siddhasur is consulting police officers in a closed room and expresses satisfaction at the information that most of the suspected revolutionaries have either been killed in open encounter or arrested to be killed later on in custody.

'But we suspect that there are still about two hundred young boys, related somehow to the revolution' says a high level police officer.

'What makes you think so?' Asks Siddhasur.

'From their movements and way of their conversations', replies the officer.

'Why don't you kill them right now?'

'We are to find at least some clue. They are still students and we've not yet got any positive evidence that they are linked with the revolution. But, sir, our spies are working hard and soon we are likely to find the clue and take immediate action.'

'O.K., inform me as soon as you get the clue.'

The police officers leave and Siddhasur picks up the telephone receiver and rings the leader of his hooligans.

Episode-3 depicted the meeting of Siddhasur with the leader of his criminal gang:

'Why have you called me sir?' The gang-leader asks Siddhasur.

'Tonight you'll have to perform an important task. Do you know Park View Lane?'

'Yes sir. It's a straight lane without any bye lane and there are parks on both the ends.'

'Tonight, with your boys, block both the approaches to the lane and kill all the young boys there and don't ask me the reason.'

'That could be a very difficult and risky job and I'd need about fifty toughs for the purpose. Can you sir increase the payment per boy for the task?

'Certainly. If you're successful you'll get double the usual rate along with all expenses incurred for the noble job. Moreover you'll have absolute right over all movable properties and the females. But remember you're to start the action right at twelve thirty A.M. and finish by three thirty.'

'What to do with the dead bodies?'

'Force some truck driver at gun point to carry the corpses and drop those in the river and after completion of the job kill the driver and his helper and immerse them along with the truck into the river.'

Episode-4 showed the horrible scenes of killing and raping and wailing of helpless people for help.

Mansa could not bear the scenes and turned aside her eye. Still she could not escape a few horrible flashes – cutting off of the breast of an elderly woman, gang raping a nine year old girl even after she was dead, mutilating hands, feet and eyes of young boys. Snatching away a six month old child from its mother's lap and killing it by throttling and forcing its mother to drink the blood dripping from its mouth before gang raping and killing the mother.

The flashes raised the anger of Mansa and fire emanating from her eyes burnt the mirror in a moment. Bhrigu did his best to moderate her anger and at last she cooled down and Bhrigu handed her a new mirror.

Episode-5 showed the emergence of Joibasur as the new King:

Torture of Siddhasur makes people desperate and Joibasur organizes them and by a sudden midnight attack dethrones Siddhasur and deports him to a neighboring country. Because of long drawn struggle against Siddhasur and his criminals, the aged Joibasur becomes morbidly tired and requests his followers to give him an opportunity to take some rest for some time. The followers immediately accept the proposal and send him right to the pleasure palace for rest. They knew fully well that leaving the heavenly pleasure there, the leader would never express willingness to return to the ordeals of ruling the country. So they place the clown Budhasur to the throne. Peace and happiness returns to the country and people goes out to the road with dance and music to celebrate the occasion. But their happiness is short lived.

The followers of Joibasur start patronizing the Durmads again and with their help begin extorting money from the masses and snatching young girls to enrich their harems.

The leaders get together and all of them agree that the ordinary Prasi people are not very hardy as slaves and the women are not capable of meeting their lusts. One of them reports that there are some nomadic Prasi people living in deep forests who are very hardy and their women extremely voluptuous. The leaders decide to get them settled at the wasteland known as Chilly Marsh in the southern part of the country.

A Durmad meets the leader of the nomads and the latter gladly accepts the proposal.

The nomads are settled in the wasteland and construct their huts.

The leader of the nomads is conversing with Durmad leaders in his hut and accepts the first proposal to send his men at times to work as free slaves in the houses of their leaders. Then the Durmad chief puts forward the second proposal that they should send their young women at night to the houses of the leaders. At this the leader of the nomads angrily refuses the proposal and asks the Durmads to immediately leave the place. The Durmads bring out guns, kill the nomad leader and tries to rape his wife and daughter. All nomads rush to the spot and the Durmads flee away.

At night the Durmads return with more men and arms. They set fire to the huts and starts killing men and raping women indiscriminately. Unable to cope with the Durmads fully equipped with modern arms, many nomads jump down into the large river at the end of the wasteland simply to be devoured by the crocodiles. The atrocities of the Durmads on the nomad village pale into insignificance the carnage by the goons of Siddhasur.

But this time Mansa controlled her emotion and remained all through a detached spectator.

Episode-6 depicted the killing of some sages.

A few sages start meditation praying for eradication of evils forces from the country. A spy informs the matter to the leaders. They consult the royal priest who says that this meditation would weaken them and may even lead to their removal from power. The Durmads are sent to kill the sages immediately.

The Durmads sprinkle petrol on the meditating sages and burn them alive

The mirror stopped showing anything more and Mansa returned it to Bhrigu and said, 'I must immediately meet my father and inform him of what I've seen in the mirror. Bhrigu smiled and said, 'daughter, Lord Shiva knows everything. Soon your incarnate would take birth on earth. She, however, would never know who she is. She would at first be a very simple girl and unconcerned for the events in the outside world. But the horrible tortures of people by the goons and police force of Siddhasur would awaken her protesting nature. But being powerless at that time, she would not be able to do anything to redress the misery of the masses. Still she would resolve to exterminate the evil forces and her divine power would start blossoming. She would go ahead with her mission and during the rein of Joibasur and later on of Budhasur, her prowess would take a significant shape. Her authentic love for common people, deep concern for their sufferings, intrepid crusade against the evil forces and unconditional dedication would earn her love and respect of the suffering masses. They would accept her as their unrivalled leader and messiah. But the unscrupulous businessmen, the hooligans, the corrupt followers of Joibasur and the Durmads would be panicked by her emergence as their destroyer and would try their best to kill her and malign her good name. But now your power would directly flow into her and protect her from all hazards. Her name would be Kindness and she could never be cruel to anyone, even the despicable Durmads.

But being powered by divine forces and the love of common people she would appear so menacing to the evil forces that they would flee in panic from the Prasi country and permanent peace would return to the country after half a century long turmoil. Now go home and be happy.'

Mansa left the sage's ashram in a jovial mood and on her way back called Narada to inform him of her good fortune. Narada smirked to congratulate her, but was utterly frustrated for his scheme being reversed and Mansa could decipher his evil intensions from the appearance of his face. Narada went back in a morose mood but soon an excellent idea struck him. He plotted in mind to instigate goddess Chandi and pit her against Mansa. So he immediately started for the palace of Chandi. But all of a sudden an enormous serpent took hold of him and in panic he observed that the horrible snake was dragging him down toward the Netherlands. He heard the voice of Mansa, 'plotter sage, live in peace among the snake girls of Netherlands until my mission in Prasi is over.'

V. The Noble Deed of Inspector Rao

The Police Inspector Sudhakar Rao looked down the deep gorge with bewildered eyes. The rivulet, locally called Drejon-chu, was flowing about 200 feet below, dancing down the boulders and pebbles and the musical resonance could be heard from the stiff bank at the foothill. A patch of sooty cloud was gliding down the undulating crest of the hill to the other side of the river and a chilly breeze from the heights made Rao tighten his jacket. He looked up at his guide Thupden Lepcha. Thupden smiled amiably and said assuredly, This is a simple job sir. Always have tight grip on the ropes and never look down while crossing.

The narrow causeway had abruptly widened into a rectangular space that sloped gently down to the mouth of the timber-bridge at the ledge edging the bank of the river. Two long saal logs were laid side by side and fitted close, the ends riveted tightly into the slits cut on the ledges on both the banks. Two thick ropes of mesta, fastened on poles at both the banks, ran alongside the two logs at a height of five feet. He would have to cross the bridge by catching hold of the ropes. Any slip is sure death. His heart sank as he pondered over the adventure he had to undertake right at the moment. The sun had now glided down behind the hills at the west and light was fading fast.

Sir, don't waste time, we are already late. Its about a mile from the other side of the river and because of stiff rise at the first phase, it would take time to reach the village and we would be in trouble if its dark before we reach there. Hurry up sir. Okay, I'm showing you how easy it is to cross the bridge.

Thupden scurried along the bridge like a squirrel and returned in a matter of seconds.

Rao was now absorbed in thought. All these risks and troubles would be an exercise in futility if the information is wrong, he thought. But Tribhuban is a very reliable informer and he would never commit anything unless he has unquestionable evidence. But this deadly tree-bridge is to be crossed anyway. He followed the guide along the bridge with palpitating heart and tried to keep his mind distracted through prayers to Lord Tirupati.

After the informer at Hyderabad had reported about the presence of the two boys at North Bengal hills, Rao consulted the seniors who advised him to immediately rush to Kolkata and make further enquiries after consulting Calcutta Police and visit North Bengal if necessary. Upon arriving at Kolkata from Hyderabad, Rao was at a loss how to accomplish his assignment. After groping in the dark for a few days, Rao got dismayed and was thinking that he should better give up but the lure for the promotion prevented him from giving up. He started rethinking how to proceed in a different way. Then by good luck he came upon his friend, Inspector Datta of Calcutta Police. He was acquainted to him at a training camp and thereafter they exchanged mails for a long time. Datta was delighted to meet him after a long time and took Rao right to his house. Rao told Datta about his predicament and sought his help. He also told Datta that they had unconfirmed information that the boys were likely to be hiding somewhere in North Bengal hills. Datta assured Rao that he would be able to assist him in the matter as he was once posted at Darjeeling and he had still good connections there. Datta contacted a Nepali informer who was trustworthy and very efficient. Within a week good news came for Rao. The informer reported that two Bengali youths resembling Rao's description were hiding at a Lepcha village of Darjeeling district adjacent to Sikkim.

Police authorities at Kolkata informed the Superintendent of Police of Darjeeling District about Inspector Rao's urgent visit and requested him to make arrangements for receiving him and arranging for his stay at Darjeeling. Rao immediately booked an air ticket from VIP quota for Bagdogra Airport and from the airport a police car took him direct to the office of the district police superintendent at Darjeeling. He consulted the S. P. and a few of his reliable subordinates about the pros and cons of the matter and an immaculate plan was chalked out so that he could visit the village under the guise of a researcher interested in economics of Lepcha villages. The entire village was under the jurisdiction of the S. P., Darjeeling and therefore there was no need to consult the Sikkim police. The S.P., however, decided to alert the authorities in Sikkim apprehending that the culprits may try to escape to Sikkim.

Rao found time enough to have a sightseeing of the beautiful hill resort. On the third day of his arrival at Darjeeling he called on a travel agents office at Chawk bazaar, described himself as a tourist and professor conducting research on hill people and asked if they could arrange for a trip to the remote village with a reliable guide. They showed the chart of charges for the trip and Rao booked the package tour with a guide immediately. A land rover carried them up to the end of the motorable road and thereafter they had to climb the rise along a narrow causeway. It was mostly an uphill journey and Rao had to take rest every now and then causing inordinate delay to reach the approach of the timber-bridge.

Are all these troubles worth taking? Doubt lingered in the mind of Rao. But a great reward waits if he succeeds. If he could apprehend the absconding boys the long cherished promotion to the post of DSP is just a matter of weeks. It was his good luck that the authorities had entrusted the job to him.

The breath taking venture along the narrow log-bridge seemed never to end and even in this cold weather, beads of sweat dripped down Raos cheeks and he felt clammy inside his garments. The tedious journey ended at last and Rao heaved a sigh of relief and sat right down on the stony ledge, exhausted out of fear and more so of tension. The guide handed out a few small tablets from the pocket of his threadbare coat, flicked some into his mouth and handed a few to Rao. Take them sir, and your nerves would be in order in no time.

Watching Raos hesitant gaze, the guide smiled candidly, No drug sir, made from harmless herbs.

Rao reached for the tabs and dropped them on his tongue imitating the guide. The salty tabs melted on his tongue instantly and his heart stopped pounding in a matter of seconds. He felt courage and energy reviving within him. Soon they resumed their journey. The first part was stiff rise and really troublesome for Rao, but he endured the ordeal dreaming over the promotion. He had to take several breaks for rest until they reached the crest and started the downhill journey. As they turned corner keeping the stiff hill to the right, a new vista opened up before the eyes of Rao and he was enchanted by the picturesque valley dotted with scattered huts and clusters of pines.

It was yet to be five but the shadow of the hills started spreading a dark blanket across the valley. Downhill journey now was much easy but he had to climb down with caution as the guide alerted him, There are pebbles and pine needles and you should be careful sir not to step on them.

It was dark when they reached the village and dots of light were flickering from the scattered dwellings of the Lepchas. The guide, a resident of a nearby village, had already informed Yalmo Lepcha, a well to do businessman of the village, that a researcher from Hyderabad would visit the village to collect information for the benefit of the villagers. Yalmo, a robust and short man around forty five with a large round face, small eyes and a curved goatee on the chin, cordially received Rao and took him right to the dwelling where Rao was to stay during his sojourn at the village. The dwelling was at the upper floor of the two-storey house of Yalmo and meant for the occasional tourists or trekkers. Dinner was served with thupka which hungry Rao gulped fast ignoring the fishy smell and the peach wine, served thereafter was unquestionably excellent. He was also offered local liquor in a bamboo cask but it tasted very strong and he gave up after a few seeps. He fell fast asleep as soon as he got under the heavy blanket.

Next day, his sleep broke as sunshine greeted him through the glass of the window and looking out he could not move his eyes from the fantastic view that was unfolding. He looked at the watch and leapt out of bed as it was about ten thirty. Oh, I've slept for such a long time he said to himself. He hastened to open the door and found Thupden and Yalmo standing near the sill and smiling affably.

I was going to nock at the door right now sir the guide said politely.

You could have done it earlier; it has already been late, Rao said with worry.

Like to have your breakfast now sir? the Yalmo asked.

Oh sure, I'm awfully hungry, but I'm to finish my toilet job first. Okay I'm getting ready in a few minutes.

If you like to bathe I may get you warm water in a no time.

No need right now. Ill tell you if I need it tomorrow. In this cold weather I may as well go without baths for days.

The dwelling was a beautiful two storey wooden house. The ground floor was occupied by the Yalmo and his family consisting of his wife and two adolescent sons. There was also a shop attached to the house and it was the only shop in the village that used to sell all sorts of commodities that had to be brought from outside the village. Once a week, his men used to travel to the nearest market carrying over yaks, vegetables and other saleable articles produced in the village and return with necessary wares not produced in the village.

The breakfast was bread and butter along with locally made alubakhra jelly and the sweetish peach wine again. Thereafter the guide led him through the village and showed him various places of interest in the village. The village, surrounded by hills on all sides, looked like a cauldron. The hills were thickly covered with green pines and cryptomarius. A small river originating from a dancing spring at the northern end of the village was flowing gingerly across the entire length of the village into the pine forest sloping down through the crevice between two adjacent hills. The water of the river was silver and glittering in sun rays. It was the source of water for the villagers for all purposes drinking, washing, bathing and irrigation. Fields were also irrigated by narrow channels dug from small perennial springs that were gliding down from the natural reservoirs at the heights.

There were around fifty Buddhist Lepcha families in the village, all peasants and they grew all sorts of vegetables cabbages, cauliflowers, beans, beets, gourds, cucumbers, peas, radishes, red potatoes, carrots etc. The lush green of the vegetable fields, adorning the lower slopes of the hills and the spaces between the huts, were enchanting. Produces of the fields over and above family needs were sold to city markets, and with this income, necessaries from the towns were bought. Most of the dwellers were poor and had no savings. Yalmo was the richest man in the village and a trader through whom all excess produces of the poor villagers were sold in the town markets and the necessaries bought from there. The other tiny villages around were connected with each other by narrow hilly paths cut at places by streams which had to be crossed along tree or rope bridges. Occasionally a few intrepid trekkers visit this village for trekking the steep hills around. Ordinary tourists rarely come here because of the difficult journey. All the villagers are Buddhists and they offer prayers to a monastery situated at another village beyond the hill to the south.

Rao was astonished to come upon some young boys speaking good English in this remote village from where the nearest convent school was at least eight hours journey. He was also amazed to learn that everyone of the village knew the three R's, i.e. cent percent of the villagers were literate according to Indian definition of literacy. As an explanation of this unexpected fact, the guide said that only two years ago all the villagers, except two adventurous and intrepid girls, were illiterate. The girls had left the village in childhood and managed to get admitted to a convent at Kurseong and got into the favor of an old catholic Bishop. They adopted Christianity but the liberal villagers accepted them after they had returned with two Bengali boys and established a school and devoted themselves to the noble mission of making everyone in the village literate. These four teachers had done miracle for the village within a short span of time and their school was treated by the villagers as a sacred place. The girls had married the boys and everyone in the village had attended their wedding. The monastery helped the marriage between Hindus and Christians as they did not change their religions and therefore neither any Christian Church nor any Hindu priest agreed to perform the rituals for the marriage.

Rao could hardly pay any heed to the lengthy account of the guide about the pious school. His mind hovered around the boys; they must be those culprits and now his promotion is just a matter of time, he thought gleefully, but he was a bit disappointed to learn that the boys had gone out to meet relatives in North Bengal and would return after a week. Then it dawned upon him that this had been a boon to him. It occurred to Rao that if the boys had been in the village he could not arrest them right away and being alerted the boys could have escaped to some other place before he could be prepared to arrest them. I need considerable preparation before I proceed to arrest them Rao said to himself. The border with Sikkim is to be sealed first; then considerable police in plain dress are to be sneaked in. The boys are popular in the village and there would be strong resistance from the villagers. Forces are to be properly mobilized to overcome these obstacles and assistance of Darjeeling Police would be needed for the entire operation. . He would have to return immediately to Darjeeling under some ruse and chalk out a full proof plan and seek assistance of the S. P. But first he was to be sure they were the culprits he was looking for.

He asked the guide if the latter could make him meet the girls and the guide took him right away to the school. The girls, Chuning and Doma were in the class but as soon as they learnt about the arrival of an important guest, they gave the students some tasks and came promptly over to greet Rao with sweet smiles. Rao praised ebulliently the girls for their dedication to the noble mission and queried at length about all matters pertaining to the school emphasizing the financial position of the school and the girls admitted that the desired progress of the school had been stalled because of financial stringency and it would be a boon for them if he could arrange for some financial assistance from government and NGOs. Rao assured them that he would do his best. In fact his mind was not in these talks and he was thinking how to ask about the boys without raising any suspicion in the minds of the girls and then the opportunity dropped from heaven. The girls showed him an album containing photos of school festivals and there they were. Heart of Rao fluttered in excitement. Rao asked casually why two Bengali boys had come to a remote village to impart education and then himself answered his query by commenting that they must be philanthropists with lofty ideals. The girls appreciated him for his correct assessment of the boys and thereafter, in course of conversation, disclosed how they had happened to meet the boys at Kurseong, of their mutual love and the willingness of the boys to be permanent residents of the village and assist them in their mission to eradicate the curse of illiteracy from the village. They emphasized with pride that the noble mission had been successful within a short span of time only because of the deep devotion of the villagers, but further achievement is well neigh impossible without financial assistance from outside. The Church at Kurseong was ready to help but string of religious conversion was attached with their assurance of assistance.

Rao assured the girls once again that he would talk with the authorities about the school and the financial help it badly needs and left the school jubilantly. The long cherished promotion is now just a matter of time, he thought with delight. But the arrest of the boys from this village would not be an easy task and his heart sank to take stock of the hazards to be encountered to arrest, from an isolated hilly village, the boys who are not only popular among the villagers but also husbands of two local girls. Should I give up after coming so close? Rao thought to himself and tried hard to shake off the worries from his mind. With perfect planning and mobilization of adequate forces he must be successful in the all important mission. I'm to go to Darjeeling right away. Rao pondered over the excuse he is to resort to for his leaving abruptly. Then a good idea struck his mind.

Returning to his dwelling in the evening Rao started rummaging his luggage pretending to be worried in the presence of both the Thupden and Yalmo. While asked he told with mock anxiety that he had left an important data book at Darjeeling and he would have to go back to the hotel at Darjeeling the next day and return as early as possible. Next day leaving his belongings in his room he again went through the tedious journey back to Darjeeling and because of his ebullience the crossing of the timber-bridge was no problem now. It was afternoon when Rao reached the office of the S. P. who was busy conducting a meeting. So, Rao had to wait on a bench outside the meeting room and he got absorbed in thought.

He thought of the preparations to be made for the great job and then his long cherished promotion would be there. After meeting the S.P. he should immediately call Inspector Datta who would sure help him with his connections here. His mind drifted to the privileges of the high position he would soon be in and who knows if luck is with him he could one day be nominated to the IPS category. His dream was interrupted as the peon of the S. P. informed him that the meeting was over and the S. P. was now waiting for Rao in his personal chamber.

Rao pushed open the swing door of the S. P's chamber and asked humbly, May I come in sir?

Yes, the S. P. replied jovially. Any good news?

No sir, Rao said dejectedly. Two boys are there no doubt, but they are not the murderers. I was very much hopeful about the promotion but now all my hopes are shattered sir.

In course of his journey back to Siliguri Rao was overwhelmingly puzzled at his own mystic behavior but felt happy for his first noble deed in life.

VI. Major Singh's Secret

Everybody gathered around major Singh and started showering kudos. He had done a remarkable job, to drive away the terrorists from the jungles and difficult hill tracts to the foreign land and the borders have been sealed so that the area is now free from the long lasting menace. All the earlier missions had failed miserably and during the last few months, the terrorists had stepped up the intensity of their heinous activities murder of political men, looting, robbery, abduction of government officials, attacking the police stations, laying mines on the roads and similar anarchic activities terrorizing the inhabitants and causing headache to the administration. The terrain bordering a foreign country and infested with deep forest and inaccessible hilly tracts made the operations difficult. After several abortive police operations the authorities at last find no alternative but to resort to military action and Colonel Srinivasan was entrusted with the task of organizing the operation.

The colonel looked into the pros and cons of the matter and the name of Major Sukhbinder Sing suddenly occurred to his mind. He knew this daring and cold headed officer since the latter was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the Indian Army. Singh's father was a habildar in the Indian Army from Patiala, Punjab. His lone son Sukhbinder was a good student and aspired to join the Indian Administrative Service. But the sad death of his father in war made him change his mind and he joined the army as a second lieutenant. He attracted the notice of Colonel Srinivasan in connection with a terrorist case. The terrorists had hold hostage of a school bus with teachers and students and demanded release of their notorious gang mates in jail in exchange for the lives of the students and teachers. Sukhbinder had then just got training in commando action and he volunteered to rescue the hostages. He entered the bus under the guise of a journalist, killed the terrorists single handed and rescued the bus. Thereafter he accomplished successfully many similar praiseworthy operations. So the colonel thought him to be the right person to handle the terrorists in the hilly forests. Singh has kept his expectation by meticulous planning and rapid action with a team of commandos. The terrorists have either been killed or fled to the foreign country and as the border is now well guarded there is very little likelihood of revival of terrorism in the region. So the colonel promptly recommended the name of Singh to the higher authorities for a prestigious military award and threw a party to honor the valiant and competent major.

Everyone was happy in the victory celebration and praising Singh but the major looked morose. The colonel noticed the gloominess of the major and took him aside. What's wrong with you, you look so gloomy on this day of gaiety? The colonel queried.

The major muttered in a sad tone, sir I failed to protect the life of Mr. Das because of my slackness at the last moment.

Its nothing in such a risky operation, the colonel said in a consolatory voice.

Still, I cannot forgive myself for failing to keep my vow to the man who had counted so much on me.

Returning to his quarter the major tried to recollect the incidents from the very beginning and discover the lacunae in his operation. Was it defective planning or lack of alertness on my part? He thought to himself. All the commandoes had followed my guidelines to the letter and if anybody is to be blamed, its none but me. Its, however, no use crying over spilt milk, but I ought to have lessons from this failure so that the mistake is not repeated ever again. He tried to call up everything from the very beginning.

Singh had just finished relaxing in the evening when the telephone rang and he heard the placid voice of Colonel Srinivasan requesting Singh to call at his residence for some serious discussion, and to be prepared to have dinner there as the discussion may run late into the night.

Singh's heart leapt up to learn about the decision of the colonel to entrust him with the task of an adventurous operation. He had discussion with the colonel for a long time and he immediately went through the file and maps relevant to the intricate operation in the terrorist infested hilly forest. He assured the colonel that within a week he would submit his detailed plan. He worked hard for the next few days and when he presented the broad outline of the plan to the colonel the latter approved it without any modification.

In the mean time terrorists threatened Mr. Das, a respectable and popular businessman, to assassinate him. The businessman immediately contacted the major and handed him over the letter of the terrorists. The major assured the businessman that he would provide the latter adequate security and did not lose time to send commandoes to guard the house of the businessman. All fears from the mind of Das had gone now as he had heard about the efficiency of the intrepid major.

Before giving the plan a concrete and final shape, the major needed some further information lacking in the files containing the detailed report of the earlier futile operations and the present position. So he contacted a journalist friend, Mr. Banerjee who was well versed with the history of extremist activities and sought his help in this regard.

Banerjee gave him detailed and secret reports on the modus operandi of the terrorists in this region, the background of some terrorist gang leaders and also of Mr. Das.

Many earlier operations had failed because of lack of an immaculate full proof plan. For this it was needed to study the region and check up the approaches to the hideouts of the terrorists in hilly jungles. Major Singh first studied the detailed aerial map of the region and surveyed the region himself accompanied by a few commandoes well versed with operation in such difficult terrain. The approach to the foreign country is a pass about hundred meters wide between two stiff hills. The entire pass about five kilometers to the no mans land is covered with jungles and scattered boulders cut at several places by narrow rivers. After the terrorists are driven away into the foreign country, the jungles at the approach to the pass and inside the pass, should be cleared at places and guards posted to seal the border. The jungle at the mouth of the pass has widened and sloped gently to the plane and the radius of the semi circular patch of forest here is about five hundred meters.

The forest is deep here and strewn with scattered boulders. The forest thereafter has become thin and entered into the habitations of hill people residing there. In fact the forest has spread further down the plane and thereafter been cleared for establishing villages by the hardy people migrated from the foreign country. They are mostly cultivators and have now become citizens of the country. The patches of forest that have run down into the forest give the terrorists opportunity to enter the habitations and escape into the jungles whenever chased by police or military forces. Moreover it has been apprehended that there are sympathizers among the villagers who give shelter to the terrorists.

Major Sing drew out the first part of his plan which would consist of attacking and chasing out the terrorists into the jungles and thereafter invading the jungle with a well coordinated chain of commandoes encircling the outer rim of the forest and it would close in with a rapid onslaught until all the extremists are driven away into the hilly part of the forest. The third part would consist of operation in the hilly tract of the jungle. The second and third phases of the operation would need the assistance of helicopters. A second wing of operation should be from within the forest and the forces there in would join the outer rim as the latter close in. The three phases of operation should follow each other in quick succession so that the terrorists do not get any respite to reorganize. The entire operation should be perfectly in accordance with plan and should be very fast.

After completing his plan and checking up several times, discussing with core commando forces and making necessary modification Major Singh gave all of them a copy of the scheme and started thinking of the next tasks which consisted of mobilizing adequate forces, arms, ammunitions and other supplies.

The operation started at day break and the forces of Major Singh advanced like lightning allowing the terrorists to put up very little resistance and by midday the villages and the patches into the villages were completely cleared. The second phase started at noon and by evening the jungles at the planes came under the complete control of the commandoes. About fifty terrorists were killed in confrontation, the same number of wounded were captured alive and the rest escaped into the hilly tract of the forest and many among them were presumed to be wounded. The loss of the combat forces, on the other hand, was minimal none killed and thirty wounded, only five of whom seriously. Several mines were detonated and a vast amount of arms and ammunitions along with a rocket launcher were captured in course of the operation. The third phase could not be started before day break. But the major and his forces were happy that the operation had worked according to plan and with no loss of life. A narrow projection of the hilly tract at the eastern flank has run down to the habitations and this tract was yet to be under their control and the major apprehended that some terrorists might again sneak into the villages unless this tract is well guarded from all the three sides which were under their control. The most problematic aspect was that the house of Mr. Das is just beneath the end of this hilly tract and the hundred meters from his house to the rise of the tract is covered with bushes and cluster of trees. So the major posted special guards in this area so that no terrorist could sneak in and attack Mr. Das's house.

Completing all these preparations immaculately, sending the wounded soldiers and captives to the military cantonment, major Singh felt relieved and sitting on a stone slab under a tree gulped a bottle of rum raw and lighted a cheroot. Every thing had gone according to plan and with minimum possible casualties. In fact, the terrorists could hardly apprehend the blitzkrieg and were caught completely unawares. The entire operation was prepared so secretly and in such a short span of time that the informers of the terrorists in the village could not guess anything either. The rest of the forces were also relaxing over drinks and gossiping joyously.

Major Singh felt an inner comfort and blew out a ring of smoke through the nostrils. All of a sudden his sixth sense alerted him and looking at the back of the house of Mr. Das he noticed some movements and his pistol instantly killed the terrorist hiding inside a bush. At the sound of the pistol other commandoes rushed into the bushes and killed the remaining terrorists who had sneaked in taking advantage of their slackness. The major realized that for the rest of the night they had to be alert all the time and no relaxation or sleep could be afforded.

Being goaded by his sixth sense major Singh promptly entered the room of Das who greeted the major ebulliently and shook hands with him. He could not find words to express his gratitude to Singh for whom alone his life was saved. Now the room and the house were completely free from the terrorist menace, the major got reassured. The last threat because of their mistake had been corrected and it was his sixth sense that helped. He had seen this several times earlier and could not explain the mystery of the defense mechanism of our body and mind. He looked out the open window. The courtyard below was free from trees and there was no possibility that any extremist would sneak in under the cover of trees and bushes. Still he told Mr. Das to shut down the window. He was now in a relaxed mood, leaned his rifle at the corner of the room and sat on a chair near the sofa on which Das was seated. Now he talked in detail with Mr. Das about the operation and Das looked up with admiring eyes. He picked up his rifle and moved for the door after saying good night. Then something entered whizzing through the window and Singh jumped down the stairwell and lost sense. The injury in his head was not serious and scanning reports said that there was no hemorrhage. It was his sixth sense again that had saved his life from the grenade that had destroyed Das's room shattering his body. But how could a terrorist be there to toss the grenade in after so meticulous operation. What was the lacuna in his plan and operation that a terrorist could sneak in at the last moment and besmirch such a grand operation? Was there any secret that he could remember now? Major Singh racked his brain and his thoughts became muddled.

The next days operation had to be done under the leadership of Captain Mukherjee and the operation was flawless and without any casualties. In fact most of the terrorists had already fled to the foreign country and in a day the entire pass up to the no mans land came under the control of the army.

The victory celebrations were held after a week when the major was fully recovered from his injuries.

Singh returned to his quarter after the victory celebration trying hard all the way to discover how the mishap had happened in spite of all his precautions. Upon returning home he opened the cupboard at the end of his room and took out the cover file containing report on Mr. Das given by his journalist friend. He now started reading it between the lines a strange revelation indeed about a well established dignified gentleman. He had read it before his operation but only a cursory glance and had therefore forgotten everything.

Mr. Das had entered politics as a student union leader. He was neither a theoretician nor a good orator, but his tough and cruel nature gave him some importance in the political party to which the student union was affiliated. Before completion of graduation he was arrested after he had raped and killed the daughter of a poor cobbler in southern Bengal. He was however released as no evidence could be found to substantiate the crime in the law court. The political party had already offered bribe to the cobbler to hush up the case. The cobbler knew that he had but two alternatives to accept the bribe or be killed and logically he accepted the second alternative. The leaders of the political party admonished Das for committing such silly crimes and warned that if he does similar things next time without prior consultation with them, they would not come to his rescue. Thereafter, however, his importance to the party increased considerably. Soon, he was entrusted with the task of organizing the black-dragon gang, the secret army of the political party, in the locality by mobilizing die-hard criminals, rural vagabonds and poverty stricken landless laborers and the party arranged for their training in use of modern arms, setting up mines and various illegal activities like booth capturing in elections, smuggling and trafficking in drug and women.

So far the political party had not much footing in the area and in most of the elections the security deposits of their candidates had been forfeited. Now some cunning leaders devised a means to increase the influence of their party by muscle power alone as they had realized that they would never be able to attract the voters in their favor and the well organized gang, the black-dragon came to their help in this regard. The black-dragons started invading rural areas ruthlessly, killing indiscriminately, looting and raping women of all ages. Beautiful young females were captured in course of the attacks and sent to the leaders to swell the ranks of their harems and many were sold to international whore traffickers at high prices. The dragon operators also got a sumptuous share of the booty of money, ornaments and women most of whom were gang-raped and killed. The political party used to bribe the police and thereby provided cover to the dragon operators against law. Mr. Das, being a ruthless and intelligent schemer to invade the villages rose rapidly in the ranks of the party.

One of the operations of Mr. Das was spectacular. Once, a few leaders had attended an election meeting at a girls school in a village under their control. Many students and teachers attended the meeting and a few beautiful ones among them had caught the lustful eyes of the leaders. After the meeting, they took Mr. Das aside and asked if he knew these females and the later nodded affirmation. The leaders then asked him to pick up these beauties and send to their harems. Mr. Das was now in a fix. He told them that this was a village under their command and asked what would be his excuse to initiate attack on such a village. One of the leaders then said laughing, You can do it easily if you have any intelligence at all. Under the cover of night remove all our flags from the village and replace them by the flag of a rival party and then everything would be cake walk. Thereafter it was not all difficult for the dragons to accomplish the task.

After being wounded severely by the arrow of a tribal, he wanted to eschew the front line activities. He had already made much money and sent his son to USA for higher studies. He proposed to the party leaders the name of another young tough boy to succeed him as the leader of the dragons in the locality and let Mr. Das resign to a peaceful life and help the party with his money and propaganda network. The party leaders readily accepted his proposal and Mr. Das got settled at North Bengal where nobody knew him and started business as a timber merchant. He undertook some philanthropic works and soon became popular in the locality. Now the major came upon a few highlighted liners in the report which he could remember as they had been engraved deeply in his mind at the first reading before the operation. The report read:

By good luck I have come upon the note left by a man of Das's gang before he had committed suicide. At the end of a successful capture of a village, Das had entered the house of a bank clerk to get some drinking water and he got bewitched by the voluptuous wife of he man. Then he shot the man dead right away and tried to rape the lady, but he was hit on the head with a scale by her four year old child. At this he got furious and flung the boy on the cement floor and instantly the child's scull was smashed, scattering brains all round the floor. Thereafter Das raped the senseless woman and stifled her to death. The man who was waiting outside for Mr. Das, hastened in to hear the scream of the child and the ghastly scene made him crazy. He ran away from the spot and committed suicide after returning home. Fortunately I had arrived at his house before the police came and could pick up his note that describes the horrible act of Das.

The major need not read these lines again as they were deeply engraved in his mind and he felt an inner comfort to discover the secret of the grenade that confirmed that his plan and operation were flawless.

VII. The Glorious Success

Keshab Rao felt hungry and fingered out the biscuits from the small container and started chewing them. They were too dry and he felt he should have brought drinking water along which he had forgotten in haste. The water course was not far off and he could find it after moving about hundred meters through the hilly forest. The water was clean and cool and it relieved his fatigue. He would have to walk three more kilo meters to get at the hiding where the other boys would assemble. They are not likely to come before twelve p.m. and it was now just eight o'clock. So he could take some rest at this place. He fell flat on his back on the mossy ground and felt the soothing coldness of the moist velvety mosses.

Incoherent images started streaming through his tired brain. He was a brilliant student at a rural school in Andhra Pradesh and desired to be a computer engineer. His father, a small shop keeper, could hardly afford his study expenses and so Keshab had taken up private coaching of a few students to meet the necessary expenses for his studies. At school leaving examination he stood first in his district and got a scholarship for higher studies at an Engineering college at Chennai. Everything was going on smoothly according to his desires and aspirations but a sudden acquaintance made his life topsy-turvy.

He was then walking near the Madras railway station. A tall gentleman in dhoti and punjabi, high powered glasses, sharp features and thick beard suddenly asked him, 'brother can you tell me where could I find pan shop here?' It appeared to Keshab that he must be a Bengali from his demeanor, English pronunciation and pan-addiction. He had great respect for the Bengalis, the novelists, poets, politicians. So he replied promptly, 'sir, you would have to walk about a mile from here to get the pan-shop. Unlike your Calcutta, people are generally not addicted to pan here.'

How do you know I'm from Calcutta?' the gentleman expressed surprise.

'You're certainly a Bengali from Calcutta I guess from your features and pan-addiction.'

'You must be acquainted with other Bengalis.'

'Not at all. You're the first one I come upon. But I know your literature, culture and many other things. You're a great race. I'm accompanying you to the pan shop. I feel very glad to be acquainted with a Bengali.'

In course of their discussion the Bengali gentleman, Dr. Asis Patra revealed that he was a member of the Peoples' War Group (PWG), a radical Maoist revolutionary group. He had come to Chennai to attend a secret meeting of the revolutionaries. Keshab was highly impressed by his talks on the economic situation, poverty and exploitation of the majority of the population in India. Mr. Patra remained in the city for three more days and Keshab learnt many things from him about Marxism, Communist and Maoist Guerrilla warfare to overthrow the present State machinery in India and replace it by a Socialistic State ensuring equity, justice and welfare of the majority. He left his contact number and Keshab continued connection with him secretly from various local booths. He downloaded Mao Zedong's works from the internet, started reading them and a new world of dream opened up before his eyes. He felt an inner urge to be associated with Maoists after completion of his studies. In the meantime, the two Maoist groups (PWG and Maoist Communist Center) merged to form the CPI-ML (Maoist).

Keshab had no intention to give up is studies and join the Maoists immediately, but a family tragedy prompted him to change his decision abruptly.

Keshab came back to the present as the distant hooting of a rice mill alerted that it was already nine p.m. He hastened up and fastening the bag containing his belongings and started again for the targeted hideout.

The crescent moon was now visible through the foliage of the tall trees and shadows were flickering as the branches were swaying in the gentle breeze that had made the weather charming. Patches of clouds were drifting aimlessly across the starry sky. The moon would wane day by day and perish into the new moon. This had been the fate of their lofty dream of changing the society through revolutionary guerrilla warfare. The movement was now waning rapidly and would soon be lost into darkness and utter frustration.

Keshab had joined the movement in a hopeless state of mind but soon his frustration vanished and he could rouse himself with new hopes and aspirations to build up a bright future for the exploited masses, free from poverty and exploitation. He had offered his life for the noble cause.

An insect hidden in a bush was making a continuous ringing noise and some bats fluttered away as he stumbled down being obstructed by an outspread root of a tree but he was not hurt as he fell down on the cushion of dried leaves. He would have to walk carefully as the way was semi-dark and besides projected roots, there might be pits hidden underneath the dried leaves and stepping on them may break or sprain the leg. He turned around to the right and came out of the forest to a clear land, an abandoned cultivable field made by burning the trees. The tribals occasionally burnt down trees to make cultivable land and abandoned them after a few years when the fertility of the land was exhausted. This was a harmful practice having serious adverse effects on forest ecology. The terrorists had convinced the tribals to refrain from the practice but still in many areas the practice was still going on.

Keshab had already walked a long way and the targeted hideout was not far off. The clear land ended up in grassy land and bushes that hid a ditch beyond which surrounded by tiny hillocks was the hideout. It was only fifteen minutes walk and it was only 11 o'clock by his wrist watch.

Keshab got himself settled on a broken log left by the tribal cultivators. He handed out a few biscuits from his side bag and started chewing them and coughed as the dried crumbs went straight to his throat. He swallowed his saliva again and again and tried to cough out the crumbs. A rodent from under the log came out, looked intrepidly with small curious eyes at him. Keshab smiled and asked it 'what do you want, rat brother?' His voice startled the rodent and it scurried fast across the field into the grassy land. Suddenly the sweet face of his sister Priti flashed across his mind and he could not help tears rolling down his cheeks. A brilliant student of class VII, she aspired to be a doctor and Keshab had promised to her that after getting his engineer's job he would do his best to get her aspirations fulfilled.

His first year exam was not far off and he for the time being concentrated on his exam studies, skipping aside the study of Maoist literature. A sudden phone call from a friend about some family disaster made him hurry over to his native village.

His friend was waiting for him at the bus stop. He looked grave and without responding to Keshab's queries he dragged him by the hand right to their house. After he got settled, his friend and his parents slowly disclosed the tragedy. About a week ago Priti, while returning from school was kidnapped by a group of ruffians who were the men of a local landlord according to the helpless villagers before whose eyes the incident happened. An intrepid social worker of the village took his parents to the police station to lodge a complaint against the landlord. The officer-in-charge of the police station hastened to put his parents and the local leader to lock up where they were severely beaten up before they were released the next day on personal bail by a powerful lawyer of a democratic rights association.

The landlord's men and the police terrorized the local people with threats of dire consequences for anyone who would give evidence against the landlord. After two days the raped and mutilated dead body of Priti was found in a bushy ditch and Keshab's parents committed suicide.

The shock at first benumbed the senses of Keshab. Thereafter he became grave with a deep resolve to take revenge. He did not disclose his designs to his friend's family who insisted him to leave the village right away as the police could arrest Keshab if detected. Keshab did not waste time and left the village to contact a Maoist leader at Chennai introduced to him by Mr. Patra. The Maoists listened patiently to his account of the incident and his resolve to take revenge. They discussed the matter among themselves and contacted Mr. Patra. They approved his resolve, held a court which pronounced death sentence for the landlord and a meticulous plan was chalked out to execute the sentence. Keshab was sent to a Maoist hideout at a village close to their own and on a full-moon night, Keshab along with five other actionists, attacked the house of the landlord, killed him and all his family members mercilessly and set fire to all the buildings after pouring out petrol.

According to plan the actionists were sent deep inside the jungle of Shrikakulam of Andhra Pradesh. There, in a terrorist technical school, Keshab attended theoretical classes on guerrilla warfare, target of the Maoists in India, and received practical training in the use of modern arms for three months. After three-month's rigorous training, Keshab was sent to the Bankura district of West Bengal, to participate in guerrilla warfare against the 'black dragons', the secret army, of a political party, composed of criminals and mercenaries.

The criminal organization was at the root of exploitation and torture of the tribals in the region and the Maoists expected to gain the support and confidence of the tribal people by protecting them against the 'black dragons'.

Besides use of modern fire arms, during the tree-month training, Keshab had learnt many other things, the history of the Maoist movement in India, its objectives and ultimate goals. Now he had forgotten all his family tragedies as he could not reverse them and the culprit was punished and with the new knowledge a new world of dream opened up before his eyes and he dedicated himself to the cause of the movement.

He was at first enchanted by the fantastic plans and strategies of the Maoists. They would first organize the tribals, the most oppressed class in India, into guerrilla groups and bring the tribal area under their control by means of guerrilla warfare as devised by Mao. These areas would then be declared liberated zone, free from the control of the Government of India and they would organize their own administrative machinery. Soon the movement would attract the peasants and all other oppressed classes elsewhere in India and guerrilla warfare would spread to other regions and the area of the liberated zone would go on expanding. The advanced guerrilla groups would now join to form the red army which would defend the already liberated area and assist the guerrillas to expand the geographical coverage of the liberated area under the peoples' democratic government led by the Maoist communist party.

Lower ranks of the army, police and the para-military forces would be attracted by their movement and they could be convinced to change side and join them along with the arms under their control. There would be revolts in police and military and the red army, with the help of the guerrillas outside and inside the government forces, would capture police stations, military barracks and their arm depots.

Then the red army in the rural areas would encircle the cities and capture them. Ultimately, the existing government would be overthrown and the new peoples' government would bring entire India under its rule.

The initial enthusiasm and spell of fantastic dream soon started waning in course of real experience of the movement, and it did not take long for Keshab to be completely disillusioned about the fantastic dreams. He realized that their movement would never spread beyond the jungles adjacent to the tribal areas and their influence could not be spread among the experienced peasants and other oppressed classes outside the tribal areas. Only some romantic intellectuals might give them moral support and just that.

Their guerrilla warfare soon degenerated into killing individuals and terrorist sabotages killing innocent people. Many leaders, notwithstanding their outward affected confidence, could not conceal their frustration and they were confused about the purpose and path of their movement. Confusion and frustration raged high among the activists.

Studying the fate of the recent guerrilla movements in Latin American countries, Nepal and Myanmar, Keshab was now convinced that considering the sophistication of arms, ammunitions and technology of modern military forces, it is but a day dream to think of capturing state power through guerrilla movement.

Then there was the final blow. The government stepped up military operations and some of the guerrilla groups including the one to which Keshab belonged were chased into deep jungles which were encircled by the govt. forces. They were cut off from outside supplies, their mobile connections were jammed, and ultimately they were compelled to come out in the open and were killed mercilessly in unequal fights. All members of Keshab's group except Keshab were killed or captured wounded. Keshab was shot in his left leg and he fell unconscious into a deep watercourse covered with bushes.

While his senses returned Keshab found himself in a small room with stone walls and stone roof. Shelves, chiseled out into the stone walls, were stacked with earthen utensils, a lantern, tooth paste and brush, packs of herbal medicine and other tit bits for daily use. The stone platform on which his bed was made was high up on the wall and through the small ventilators of the windowless room, green forest below brightened by sun rays and distant hillocks were visible. The stone-room must be somewhere high up on a hillock. He could not understand where he was and how he happened to be there. Slowly he remembered everything. Ammunitions exhausted, he had taken shelter behind the huge trunk of a tree and random shots of the commandoes were flowing relentlessly by both the sides of the tree and hitting into the bushes that rose up from the depth of the water course close by. Suddenly a bullet pierced through the thick buckle of the trunk and hit his thigh. He fell down and to save himself from the bullet-rains, he rolled down into the water course and fell unconscious. He could not guess how long he had been unconscious and who had carried him over to this cave house. Now it was past midday, as he guessed from the sun which was visible through a ventilator, and he was hit at day break. So it might be eight to ten hours or it could also be the day next to their fight. He tried to turn round and shrieked loudly in sharp pain in his thigh. An elderly tribal man and a young girl rushed into the room, moved alongside his bed and leaning over him said in Hindi, 'don't move, your wounded thigh has been bandaged and movement would lead to bleeding.'

He could now clearly see both of them standing side by side. The bare bodied old man was wearing only a loincloth. The girl looked like sixteen or thereabout, had worn a pandhat, a sari worn from above the breasts down to the knees. The v-line sloping up to the sharp large boobs under the upper edge of the pandhat and her strong bare legs were distinctly visible. He thick, long and deep black hair that reached down to her waistline were swaying with every movement and combined with her dark complexion, deer like large eyes, sharp nose and mysterious smile on her lips, she looked exactly like goddess Kali. Was he dead and transported to the land of the goddess, the thought crossed momentarily across his mind. The girl, as though reading his thought, said with a sweet smile, 'I'm not any goddess. We are Oraons from the small Oraon village beyond these hillocks and forest land.

'Where am I now?' Keshab blubbered out with effort.

'You're in a cave house known as "spook-house" and you're perfectly safe here as nobody dare come near this haunted place. Okay, take rest and don't talk much now. We'll tell you everything later. You must be hungry and thirsty. So first take water and some food first.'

The man handed out an earthen container from the wall shelf and the girl poured water from a pitcher in a glass. They served him fruits, milk and sweets made from roots. Keshab was accustomed these tribal foods which were both nourishing and medicinal. But now he could not eat much because of his feverish condition and pain all over his body which too was bruised and superficially torn as he had rolled down the bushes and thickets that walled the deep watercourse.

Toilet works at an adjacent toilet were the most horrible and painful and the hosts did their best to help him. After he was carried back from the toilet into his bed, he was administered a sedative to relieve his sufferings as an aftermath of the struggle in the toilet and he relapsed into deep slumber.

He woke to find the room lighted by a lantern and the girl seated at the corner of his bed and looking at him with deep affection. He now felt better and took tea and tribal biscuits. Her father would soon bring soft breads and curry for his dinner, the girl told. Her name was Maina Tirke and her father Mongra tike. They were Kurukhs (Oraons) residing in a small Oraon village beyond the jungle mahal (forest habitations). Mongra was an ojha and herbal doctor. Being requested by Keshab, Maina told how she had found and rescued him.

Some rare herbs are found in this area. She came to collect the herbs grown inside the water course Keshab had fallen into. She had to wait because there was a fighting. After the fight was over and the forces left, she waited for a while and in the afternoon when she was confident they would not return she went close to the water course and was startled to hear a deep moaning from inside the water course. In normal times she would have thought it to be related to some specter that she did not care as she too knew mantras to prevent harms from them. But now because of her knowledge of the fight she was confident it must be some wounded human being. Whichever side he belonged to, it was her duty to help the suffering person. Climbing down the slope she discovered Keshab on the slush reddened by blood. She recognized him to be a guerrilla and immediately rushed back to her village and brought her father along and they both carried him out of the pit. It was not safe to take him over to the village, because at any time the government forces may search the village and there were also 'black dragon' spies in the village. So they decided to hide him at this forbidden ghost cave. It was on a hillock hidden in between to larger hillocks surrounded by dense forest.

She told Keshab the myth of the cave house. Long ago a sacred tantrik with the help of the local tribals, made this dwelling in between two hillocks for occult religious practices and it was hidden from the sight of the outsiders by the surrounding hillocks and forests.

People used to say that he had under his command ghosts and apparitions. The local tribals believed that after death of the tantric the cave house had become an abode of the ghosts and no body dared approach near that place and there were stories galore about the horrible ghosts guarding the forbidden land. Mongra and Maina, being experts in ojha cult, knew mantras to tame the ghosts and so they never feared to visit the area rich in rare herbs. Before carrying Keshab into the cave they had purified the house driving away the ghosts by mantras. Keshab, however, did not believe these superstitions but he felt satisfied that because of these myths there was no possibility of his being detected. The Oraon and her daughter regularly visited the place to collect medicinal herbs and so nobody would show any curiosity if they visit Keshab regularly. Maina told that only half inch of flesh from his left thigh was torn away by the bullet and the herbal paste administered on the wound would soon cure his leg.

It took about a month for Keshab to be fully cured, capable of walking without the help of sticks. However, a depression remained on his thigh and he had to walk with a limp. During his recovery Maina used to come and talk with him for long hours. She knew Santhali which Keshab too had learnt to speak in course of his activities among the Santhals. So they could talk freely and slowly they were drawn to each other and they realized that unknowingly they had fallen in love with each other.

Maina was not illiterate. She had studied at the convent run by a Catholic church which had converted all the fifty Kurukh families of the village to Christianity, but the tribals still practiced their primitive 'sarna' religion of nature worship and along with attending church and Christian festivals they used to attend tribal rituals and festivals too. Maina, after school studies, had taken a three months' short training in nursing and she was likely to get a temporary job at a private nursing home at Suri town of the Birbhum district. She could also read, write and speak both Bengali and English.

They ultimately decided to marry. Keshab had the desire that they would marry and get settled at Suri town. Mongra gladly gave consent and once again hope enlivened Keshab and he started dreaming of a happy life with Maina. But the most serious hurdle was his position as an accused Maoists liable to be arrested or shot at sight. Maina took him secretly to father Reverend Anthony Bhagat who was a very sacred and kind man. He too believed that Keshab was still an accused extremist liable to be arrested and tried at court (if he was lucky not to be shot at sight) and the father could not device a way out. He assured them that he would think over the matter and contact the Bishop to negotiate the matter with the government. The father advised him to remain in hiding until the matter was settled.

Then suddenly the golden opportunity came. The Government of India declared openly that all the Maoists with minor offenses would be forgiven with token punishment if they surrender unconditionally with an undertaking of refraining from terrorist activities in future. Those who wanted to eschew the wrong path and return to normal life would be welcome.

Dhanesh Oraon, an erstwhile 'black dragon' agent for seducing tribal girls, had now become honest and was working as the mediator between the surrendering Maoist and the government forces.

Maina had learnt from Dhanesh that twenty other Maoists from different areas would surrender after a few days at midnight at a specified place. He told Maina that any willing Maoist activist might assemble at the hideout at midnight on a specified date. Keshab decided to surrender on that day and the day before the surrender he and Maina found out the location of the specified cave. Now Keshab felt happy and he was seized with dreams. Occasionally he got morose remembering his parents and Priti and Maina always consoled him by saying that they would never return and he should now think of the days ahead.

Keshab cautiously crossed the creek and climbed down a slope to reach at the specified venue for surrender. All other terrorists had already assembled there. They greeted Keshab and introduced themselves. Exactly at twelve they laid down their arms and ammunitions outside the cave and waited for the arrival of the commandos. The commandoes arrived on time exactly at one a.m. and their commander announced over microphone, 'you come out of the cave one by one with hands over your heads and line up as ordered by me for body searching, but you would meet with death if you try to be over smart.'

The terrorists came out one by one and were lined up. A chill went down the spine of Keshab. Was it a trick by the commandos to shot them in cold blood? Nothing like that happened to his relief and body searching started. The commander announced again, 'after searching you would be hand cuffed, but don't worry boys, you would be set free tomorrow after you sign an undertaking.'

Keshab was the tenth in the line and it would be at least half an hour before his term comes. He got absorbed in dream again. How happy Maina looked today! Her face came to the surface of his mind and he forgot the surroundings.

All of a sudden the place became alive and two commandoes were shot dead by firings from 'black dragon' activists hidden behind the hillock. This was according to the plan of the notorious Dhanesh, who was still an active agent of the 'black dragons' In the fraction of a second rifles of the commandoes went alive, the entire area reverberated with the continuous 'tat-tat-tat........', nocturnal birds fluttered high up into the sky and all the Maoist boys including Keshab were killed.

Front page headlines of the dailies the next day read:

'Glorious Success of the Government Forces against the Maoist Guerrillas'

###

### The Author

The author of these short stories is a Ph.D. in economics and professionally an economist but his passion for literature occasionally robs him out of the dry arena of economics to the world of love romance and adventure. From his very childhood his favorite hobbies included swimming in turbulent rivers during the rains, small game hunting, boxing, hill trekking and adventure in wild animal infested deep forests. Later on he gave up hunting and boxing considering them to be cruel sports. In course of his hill treks he came in contact with various hill tribes and he could feel the heart bits of these honest and simple people, especially the charming girls. Many of his romantic short stories are based on these hill people and the hilly charm amidst which they are born and brought up. Dr. Basu may be contacted at rlbasu@rediffmail.com.
