It was not the first time Dr. Badkaula had had a gun pointed at him. It was the first time that the gun had happened to be submachine guns carried by the government security forces. There was no point in resisting, he was as good as dead.
How he wished this was a robbery incident like the previous occasion! It was in DC, he was for a conference, being unaware of the various neighborhoods, he wandered out of the conference area. And before he knew what was happening, he'd surrendered fifty dollars in cash and some miscellaneous papers he didn't care for. The incident was a net positive for him, he thought, he had made much more in the experience of the various tellings and retellings of the story in all the conversations it generated over the year than he lost. In the end, things worked out, like they always did. That's what he believed in.
In the current occasion, Dr. Badkaula was racking his brain to find a positive angle. Why they wanted to get him he didn't know, he was in the border town for a health camp. He didn't have many days left, the stay had been rather uncomfortable with the heat and humidity and the awful smelling drains and trash that littered the place. This surprise visit by the armed police could not have come at a more wrong time. He had half a mind to use his connections in the ministry and police to get those men in trouble, but the seriousness of these men's faces suggested that would be unwise in present conditions.
Yes sir, I am Dr. Sitaram Badkaula, I'm a doctor of eyes, I came in from Kathmandu for two weeks to run a free health camp for poor villagers here. Please explain to me what I did wrong that you have those big guns pointed at me so I may be able to correct it, he said, in the most earnest voice he could come up with.
Show us your ID, a policeman who didn't have a gun on him said, walking up to him. The doctor slowly reached out to his pocket, making a point to maintain eye contact, and took out his wallet. He produced the ID card and handed it over. The policeman looked at the card, then to his face, and back to the card.
On whose invitation are you here, he asked the doctor.
The local eye hospital, my former colleague is the director of it, he said they were organizing a free camp, Dr Harka Gurung, because I have done camps like this in the past, I came this year as well, the doctor said slowly, focusing on his every word.
The policeman nodded to the gun-holders, they lowered their weapons and relaxed their fingers. He slapped the ID back into the doctor's palm.
Five minutes later, he got a text message from his hospital's director. People with big guns captured everything, get to the border ASAP if you can. Save yourself.
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