A Story of Night Patrol
This story takes me back to when I was young—maybe in class 3 or 4. At that time, there was an old man who used to patrol our village at night. In his left hand, he carried a stick, and in his right hand, he held a lantern. The lantern flickered like a little star. Electricity had reached our village, but it was weak. The streetlights hardly worked. Even now, I think only two or three lights glow properly. When the old man came near our house, he didn’t shout “ Jaagte Raho ,” like we see in movies or on TV. We never heard anything like that in real life. His arrival was quiet, but always on time. Every evening, between 8:00 and 8:10, he walked by. I do not remember what I was doing at that time, but I do remember stopping everything and quietly going to the window to look. As he walked, his stick made a clear khat khat sound on the ground. That sound echoed in the dark and made the night feel alive. I liked to watch him from the window. He moved slowly but steadily. I rememb...