The cop came running into the station, today. ‘What is it?’ I asked, ‘Why the hurry?’
‘There are naxals in the village, bhaisaab,’ he yelled in between deep breaths. ‘We need to put together enough men to circle them. They need to be caught immediately,’ he said. I was new to the location and I had no clue of the process. I allowed Inspector Singh to brief me for a bit. Still panting, he raced through the procedure in place.
I allowed him to catch his breath and offered him a glass of water before I said, ‘How do you know they are naxals?’
‘They were wearing boards with naxalite written in three languages, bhaisaab,’ he said.
‘Then, let us proceed to make the arrangements,’ I ordered.
By sunset, the men along with their boards were in our lock up. The media was informed and numerous versions of our heroics were in the papers the next day.
‘Naxals caught’; ‘5 Naxals in jail’
Our duty was done. All was right with the world.