"You combed your hair and you smell nice. Why do you smell nice?" the police officer on the door asked constable Biraj Basu, who was sitting on the reception desk, drawing margins on the visitor register. Biraj just squinted his eyes and pursed his lips in response.

"What, the fact that you are always dressed disgustingly is something I frequently point out to my wife. Proving to her that I am a better person than everybody here." the officer said proudly, "Now that you've cleaned yourself up, things are gonna get difficult for me."

Biraj never knew that the sudden choice of personal hygiene could be injurious to someone else's health. The officer was walking away.

"The new doctor is coming today. I was just preparing," shouted Biraj, "And the fact that you smell me is disturbing."

Then he heard footsteps, Biraj looked at the entrance. The same man from the fair, with a bag hanging from his shoulders, came up to the desk, and said in a low voice, "You are Biraj...," he scratched his head.

"...Basu!" Biraj considered being angry for not remembering his name, but instead said, "The inspector is waiting for you." Biraj fumbled with his pen, "Please write your name here." he pointed at the columns.

"Okay," Vaibhav signed his name and looked up.

Biraj smiled and extended his hand towards the left, "Right this way Dr. Roy."

Biraj brought Vaibhav in front of the inspector's cabin and knocked.

"Come in," said a voice inside. Vaibhav walked in to meet the same middle-aged man from yesterday night's fair, sat behind his enormous desk. He was not angry anymore. The room was surrounded by files and desperately needed a mop.

"Dr. Roy! Come, come and sit. Bring our guest some water, Biraj." the inspector sounded disrespectfully polite. Biraj took his leave.

"Nice to meet you again, doctor." inspector Bimal folded his hands in a namaste, "I know that the cabinet at Writer's Building sent you here for what happened in 25 th May 1967...," the inspector leaned back in his chair.

"....it has been four years sir, a lot has happened since then...," began Vaibhav.

"Yeah, as I said it all started that day, the flames are just closer to Kolkata now...," the inspector interrupted, "So, tell me how you will do a better job than me!"

"Well, I was told your techniques....," Vaibhav tried to use a metaphor.

"Encounters. 15 of them!", Bimal adjusted himself on his chair, "and I was considering the same with the suspect, which I was explicitly instructed to keep in custody!"

"What you did on 25th, open fire at those peasants," Vaibhav was not persuaded, "you did for lack of witness testimony, law wasn't enough to punish them....."

Bimal was about to retaliate but pursed his lips controlling himself. This man did not like change or maybe the person bringing it about.

"....I heard there already exists some old records that weren't attested by a judge. The cabinet has made arrangements for the district attorney's office to prepare a fresh charge sheet. I will find the terrorists among the villagers, without any unpleasantness and convict them."

"And you will do this forensics, with science," Bimal pulled out a drawer on his desk taking out a massive file, "I am not one for records these days. Did my best, most of my personnel backdated them though."

Vaibhav took the file and sifted through, nodding from time to time, "I can work with this," he said looking up.

"If you don't mind me asking", Bimal put on his calm face, "you're aware of the Jangal Santhal incident..."

"Yes....!?"

"Where were you then? Those people shot poison arrows that killed seven of my officers when we tried to arrest the man, what were the folks back at Writers' doing then?"

Vaibhav looked down, he found it best to stay quiet in these situations.

"Sir I know about now. I will make things better!"

"Your not even sure that your science jargon will even hold up in court. Killing those Naxalites worked just fine!"

"Your retaliation on 25th killed nine innocent people. It never ends in an eye for an eye. Skirmish turns into war, murder turns to massacre...!"

"Except government listened to the farm folks!" Bimal was getting to his old self. There was a certain conversation he wanted to complete. He spoke again, "zamindars filed a complaint that local tribals were illegally occupying their lands. We were just doing our jobs that day! We didn't know there were innocents there. Not like those metropolitan police, who arrest Naxals and then murder them in fake encounters!"

"I'm sorry for your loss! But I disagree with you. This was a rebellion, you started the war too early, it's time for diplomacy!"

"I know you have no hand in this. You are just here, doing your job. But I will remember what you said to me, for the time this all blows up in our faces."

That was the time Biraj came back with the water. He put it down on the front of Vaibhav and the inspector happily drank it all.

"Then again, I am no philosopher...," the inspector burped slightly and smiled, "Biraj show the doctor, what he needs to see."

Vaibhav quietly patted himself on a bright start to his first day on the job.