Rude Awakenings - Forest Sangha Publications

^0 L A N D I N G 06moment we were both convinced that he was the scout for an ambushparty. Almost clutching each other, we hurried up the road toward thescarcely lit village.N I C KAtri also had a power cut when we got there. The occasional glimmercame from a window, but most of the town was retreating into thegloom of dusk. Someone had explained in Rajgir that Bihar state hadbecome so short of electricity that they were now rationing it. Each districtwas allocated so many set hours a day when it was on. For the capitalcity, Patna, this included the evening, the most popular time forelectricity consumption. For the more remote districts, like Rajgir andAtri, the electricity times were more inconvenient.The Atri police station was on top of a slight rise. It was a big squarebuilding surrounded by a veranda, and it was lit from inside by hurricanelamps. The light made it look very welcoming as we approached,but inside they knew nothing of our report. When the officer arrived hegreeted me warmly, “Ah, Mr. Scott,” while ignoring my stranger companion,and explained that the report was not ready yet and that wewould have to wait until the morning. I was not surprised; I was gettingused to the efficiency of the Bihar police, and anyway it suited us—wecould stay the night in the dak bungalow. The officer went off andreturned with a shabbily dressed man holding a lamp. “This orderly willtake care of you. If there are any problems you are just to tell him.” (Itwas unlikely that he had any English, but it was a nice thought.) “I amalso asking what you are eating for your breakfast?” Given the choice Iplumped for my favourite, parothas. He said something to the orderlyin Hindi, and then we set off following the swinging light through thestreets of Atri to the dak bungalow.In the morning nothing seemed to be happening. The orderly wasnext door and after a while someone else turned up, but they made no2 5 9