An encounter..!

SINCE there have been quite a few questions asked about encounter killings the local village police chief called me over for an informal chat, “Whenever we do something right we are criticized,” said the chief, offering me my mandatory plate of batata vada and chutney from the police canteen downstairs, “we have now perfected the art of the encounter and the media should be appreciative.”
I ate my batata vada in silence. “Have you noticed that none of our policemen ever get injured in an encounter?” he asked suddenly as I bit into a chilly and looked at him with tears in my eyes. “ This is because you the tax payer have invested heavily into each policeman and we do not want to waste your money!”
I nodded and reached out for the glass of water to take away the effects of the chilly, “ Every encounter is well planned,” said the chief, “nothing is left to chance, we see to it that it takes place in a lonely area where there are no people. Do you know why?”
I shook my head. “Because we don’t want them concocting some cock and bull story to the judge later,” said the chief, “the public are afraid of the mafia and it is this fear that makes them say that there was no encounter and it was a staged killing by the police. Now we try and see they are not inconvenienced, and hold the encounter, where they won’t be involved. See how well we look after our citizens!”
I shook my head appreciatively and reached for the second batata vada. “Our men have become so good that all their victims have bullets in their back! Have you ever wondered why this is so?” I shook my head affirmatively, “You have wondered?” I shook my head, this time a little less vigorously. “You dare wonder about such things?” I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders as if it didn’t matter. “Good, “ said the police chief, “these things are not worth thinking about!” I smiled at him and reached out for another sip of water.
“Are you afraid of something?” asked the police chief. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders and giggled nervously. “People who drink too much water are hiding something,” he said. I pointed to my mouth and gestured that I had swallowed a chilly. “You carry drugs in your mouth?” asked the chief. I smiled and reached for the water. “Run,” said the chief. I gestured helplessly and refused to get up. “Run,” said the chief as a gunman appeared at the door.
“We want some good reports about encounters,” said the chief. I nodded my head in agreement and stared at the gun in the encounter specialist’s hand. “otherwise,” said the chief, “we may find you are a drug carrier, and you will have to run from us and force us to have an encounter..!”
I nodded, got up from my chair and walked backwards to the door. The encounter specialist looked at his chief and shook his head. “You are cheating him of another encounter,” shouted the chief, “he says he has never shot anyone from the front, he doesn’t know which part of you to fire at ..!”

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