Blockages everywhere, yellow blockages, ‘ATNEST POLICE’ – it reads. All over Thomas
square area in the city of Atnest these blockages were brought, lying at the edge of the road.
Men wearing reddish military uniform, with an identity card hanging around their neck, were
examining every life form on the square. The military men, all filled with scrupulous
patriotism, had a machine gun tied to their shoulder, resting on their palm close to their body, holding them like a mother hold his newborn.
“Hey! You there!” the tall and stout military person called to the man carrying a big suitcase.
The man with the suitcase didn’t listen, or cared not to listen, walking with the confidence of
a lion in the forest.
“You! The man with the grey suitcase!.. COME HERE!” the military person shouted, and
began chatting in his black microphone hanging on his right shirt pocket.
The man with the grey suitcase froze where he was walking. “Me?” he asked.
“Yes!… You!”
The man with the suitcase walked to the military person with hesitant steps, and said with
tone drowned in tremors:
“What’s wrong, sir?…I have my walking license with me.” He then took his wallet out of the
back pocket of his blue denim, and showed the walking card to the military personnel.
“Had I asked you to show the walking license?” the person said severely.
The man with the suitcase stooped, as if to hide his face, then said:
“I am sorry, sir.”
“What’s that in your bag?”
“My clothes, some toys for my kids and beauty products for the wife, sir.” he said looking
terrified.
Here the military personnel looked the suitcase man from head to toe, made a gesture to the
van standing at the corner.
“You need to proceed to the van over there, and get it verified.”
“Why sir?… Is there something wrong?”
“Just follow the guidelines,” the military person thundered.
The man with the suitcase went to the van which was equipped with antennas, speakers, and
prideful body. His body was dipped with new set of military personnel, one of them with a
thin beard and heavy eyes, other with a horse like long face with a scar on the forehead.
“Get the bag inside the van, and step aside,” the man with the horse face said.

After loading the bag onto the van, the suitcase man was examined over the whole body by a
metal detector. Afterward, he was scanned through every pocket and every little corner – in a
manner which repeatedly violated Right to Privacy of the constitution of Adaysis.
The bag was ruthlessly checked, every darkness in it bombarded with light, every scrap of
material taken out of it, scattered on the van’s floor. ‘Everything was in confusion’ in
Thomas square. This whole process lasted for ten minutes. Meanwhile, the swarm of red
military-men were keeping a sharp eye on every breath of the Thomas square.
“It’s all clear,” the man with the heavy eyes said to the long face one. He then mumbled this to
his microphone, receiving a mysterious pig like voice out of it.
“You can take this away,” long-horse faced threw his words.
The heavy eyed one took the bag out, kept it on the road, and pushed all the things scattered
on the van floor to the basket, like one does to a dead fly lying on one’s table.

---

12:10 p.m. Thomas Square: A stir of agitation was seen among the posted military personnel
– microphones buzzing, eyes movement were fastidious and more skeptical. Despite having a
clear weather – which was so unusual for this time of the month for Atnest – there was a
gloominess in the air, as if mother nature was having a deep presentiment.
“It’s only twenty minutes to go. Stop the traffic; clear the pedestrians.” A voice shouted from
the center of the square.
The blockages were pulled from the edge of the roads and placed side by side, except for the
road which runs from east to west. It gave the square a look of flowers having stripes in them
– with the statue of a man with the spear in it’s hand in the middle of Thomas square forming
it’s style and stigma.
A current of alertness was seen in the troop of military personnel. The gates of the garden on
the right side of the square were opened. The garden’s exquisite ground was paved with sun
filled grass, flowers of different sorts in semicircles – Daisies, Azaleas, Lilacs. In the middle was a pond with water lilies dancing in them.
“Start putting them inside. Give orders to stop the traffic at road S17,” a stout military officer,
with a number of stars, badges and a big black moustache exhorted.
Following the entanglement of officer’s word with air, the military personnel started
instructing the pedestrians and the passersby to go inside the gates of the garden.
“I am just waiting for the 112 bus, officer.” the woman resisted to follow the instructions of a
thinly military man.
“Madame, do as you are asked…. The Hon’ble minister is coming.”
The woman began staring at the man with a childlike innocence full of restraint. Every
second of gaze seemed as if to enrage the man.
“Duniya! Escort the madame!” he shouted and mumbled, spitting, “whore.”

“Everyone… citizens… please cooperate with our men, your protectors. Do as they say … It
is for your own good. The Hon’ble minister is coming!” the milky military officer with bulky
moustache roared from the center of the square.
“Freely use force on men… if need arise on women too… anything needed for the spot
action. Use it! I repeat it: Use whatever necessary to maintain peace!” the microphones
buzzed on the military officers’ shirt pockets.
“Oui Sir! Long live the minister!” the pack of military personnel barked in unison into their
microphones.

---

12:17 p.m. Thomas Square: No human being without a uniform was seen on the pavement of
Thomas square. The military personnel patrolling alongside the road, confabulating on their
microphone in metallic voices, and looking each other in the eyes as if talking in morse.
“63 in count…. 63 of them inside.” The thinly military person informed the one with big black
moustache.
“Have you locked the gate?”
“Yes, sir… they were resisting. These dogs always need a beating,” the thinly man said
inhaling the air with pride.
“Good, good, Semyon Nikolaeivich,” he paused here for a minute as if lost in some deep
thought and asked: “Are the men adequate there?… In number?”
“They are, sir… everything is in control there,” he assured.
“Very well, Semyon Nikolaeivich… Take your position, it’s only 59 seconds to go, the
minister will pass.”
Semyon Nikolaeivich took his position beneath the dead street lamp in the north-east corner
of the street.
The wailing of sirens diffused the air, every red chest puffed with the sense of duty. While on
those inside the green beautiful prison waiting to gain freedom again, a sense of relief ran.
Different thoughts ran in the mind of the people inside those black gates with the center stage
occupying the confinement. The man in the blue jacket was boiling with anger over his
confinement as that of a prisoner.
“Is this a democratic state?” he muttered. “Huh… the great Adaysis…I should have settled on
an island near Ireland – that would have been good, yes, better than this hell.”
While the old men standing with their skins touching the gate were urging the military
personnel to open the lock.
“Hon’ble sir, we are not bandits that you have locked us like this… I know that Hon’ble
minister’s security is of utmost priority but – ”

“Shut up! Move back!” the military person yelled, following which the old man’s face was
doused with glum linings.

---

12:22 p.m. Thomas square: A black van with antennas and speakers on its roof was seen
marching ahead to the square. Meanwhile, a five-year-old wearing a navy sweatshirt and grey
jeans was getting excited hearing all the noises coming from sirens. The van passed at a
tremendous speed from the square leaving a vibration in the air. Another vehicle was spotted:
it was a military jeep, on its roof half of the body of a man in a complete black uniform was
seen. He was carrying a machine gun, and was constantly scanning his field of horizon
through his black sunglasses. Another analogous jeep passed – only difference was that the
machine was fixed on its roof with the commando moving it in a semicircle.
The child was devouring all this sight with heedless attention. The Rolls Royce Phantom
limousine emerged, it’s black muscular body hit by sun’s particles, creating a crystal painting
in the eyes of the viewers, demanding authority from its gazers.
“The Hon’ble minister…. The Hon’ble minister…” A current of devotion ran into the crowd
in the green prison. The child with his eyes fixed on the limousine was showered by the awe
of wave of deep emotion running. Every second was an hour to the boy. He wanted to touch
the limousine. The time was short. The car was raging forward. The child got out of the gaps
in the gates like water finding its path even if there is none.
“Alyosha!” his mother cried.
Alyosha continued his steps, while the car its own. The sun rays ceased its existence on
Thomas square, a sudden darkness engulfed it.
“SHOOT!” the man with bulky moustache yelled.
Thunderous sounds reverberated through Atnest. The wailing of the sirens faded, the red dim
light of the last car of the convoy could be seen at the end of Thomas square. An uncouth
silence doomed over the majestic city of Atnest.