THE HARBINGER OF NOR'WESTER

The Man from Kurseong

"Belief like that never dies!" Vaibhav insisted.

"He is 87 years old, Vaibhav. Gorkha Rebellion is a story of the 1930s." Biraj suddenly stopped in front of a chair blocking his way, and turned around, "By the way, I just thought of this, why are you here?"

"Field experience" Vaibhav rolled out of his tongue, "Inspector Hansda thinks I need to get out more."

"Mr. Singh" Biraj enquired peeking through the door, "Mr. Bir Singh?"

The old man sat up in his creaky chair, adjusting his white punjabi. Rubbing his knees through the pajama he began, "I am him. Police?" Bir curved his lip which was hard to notice with his frail nature, "come sit." he pointed at two wooden chairs on the right side.

Biraj and Vaibhav took their seats. Biraj forwarded the paper to Bir.

"What can you tell us about this?" Biraj pointed at the signature.

"You're about 62 years late to ask that question, son." Bir smiled slightly.

"We found it on a naxal suspect, any ideas, how it got there?"

"Surprise comes to mind, with the Naxal angle."

"You can't tell us anything?"

"I told a lot of things once..."

"Why did you stop?" Vaibhav interrupted, "your protest went on rather well, it is still in progress, why did you stop?", Vaibhav asked directly, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't like professional inquisitors. They tend to think that wisdom can be learned!" Bir looked out the window again possibly because of the cramps from turning right for too long, " you think I've seen it all, so you must be able to see them too. Wrong! Trust me I tried once. I started this, the Gorkha movement was to reclaim our Nepalese pride in India. Secularism and republican at its best. That ancient Lichhavi custom, the original Rajputs of this nation. Princesses from our dynasty gave birth to the brave Rajputs, that all started with us." Bir straightened up as if he was being disgraceful by aging.

"But I heard, the Nepali Rajput dynasty started when several families from northwestern India settled in Kathmandu valley because of repeated Mongol invasions."

"Jyotirmalla Rajputs!" Bir spoke with a special kind of loathe, "exactly the reason the Bengal government disbanded us. I fought for the spirit of my country, as anyone should in a secular democracy, like a true Lichhavi. But these people, the country was just lines on the sand to them. They don't understand, they don't believe...," Bir echoed slowly to himself.

"Sir, anything else you can tell us?" Biraj interrupted seeking to diffuse the situation.

Bir was a little calm now. He peacefully turned to Biraj, "I can tell you, I didn't write it."

"What?" said Biraj and Vaibhav in unison.

"I did not write that," Bir breathed out, "it was just one of the many brochures when I started my campaign back in the 60s. I was still studying for the presidency. It just came to me. So beautifully written, how could I not use it?"

Biraj almost dropped his jaw. Vaibhav sighed, clearly more interested in Lichhavi princesses than the case.

Bir coughed rather loudly, turning to his right side. Clearly the effort was too much for him. Yet He wiped his mouth with a towel and looked back at his guests sitting straight.

"Hansda on this case?" Bir asked Biraj who was keenly studying the paper.

"You know the Inspector?" Vaibhav was liking this person more by the minute.

"Owing to my memory loss of forgetting the early days of the revolution, I'd say Hansda is as old as I am! Never seen you before though!?" Bir pointed a shaking index finger at Vaibhav.

"Oh! He is new here...," Biraj suddenly found relief in not being professional.

"...but how do you know him!?" Vaibhav immediately changed the topic.

"How does anyone meet police?" Bir smiled, "he arrested me!"

Vaibhav squinted his eyes.

"...I mean I don't even know how he dug up that manifesto, all of a sudden he comes to me and says that I am responsible for hate speech," Bir upturned his lips, "I didn't peg him the methodical type!"

"You realise he," Vaibhav kept losing his rhythm, "he is always the one for violent solutions....", Biraj quietly stepped over Vaibhav's toes. Vaibhav however continued, "... you're saying he wasn't like this!"

"On the contrary he was always like this," Bir ultimately leaned back on the chair. Maintaining a straight spine because of preserving pride hurts. Bir went on, "there was no incident. No scaring trauma that made the Inspector Hansda. The man just hated disorder. We heard about him the first time in the Mayatalav shooting case....he killed that naxal with no remorse...," Bir was quite for a few moments.

Vaibhav laid his right hand on his cheek and turned to Biraj. Then he shook his hand enquiring about the shooting.

"Later...," whispered Biraj.

"How are you so calm?" Vaibhav spurted, "knowing that we were sent by the same person who hunted you for that long!"

"I survived, didn't I?" Bir said plainly, "you just know certain things at my age..."

"But seriously!" Biraj interjected again, "why would someone use your manifesto in a Naxal agenda!?"

"I'm sorry, boy," Bir beat his hands by his sides, "I can't help you! If there's nothing else, gentlemen?", Bir turned to the window again.

Biraj and Vaibhav slowly stood up and walked out of the door.