A group of parched and famished armed police wait impatiently in Maharajganj, Ring Road for their potato chips and bottled water. "It's finally here," exclaims a constable rushing to open a packet of potato chips. As he is munching away, the group hears screams of people chanting slogans coming from far away, "Oh no, not again. This job's so annoying," he tells his friends.
The officer holding his loud speaker nods his head and agrees. "If I have to curse anyone, then I would curse him to be a police in the next birth," the officer's loud remark is met with a roar of laughter from his juniors including the RNA soldiers standing nearby. "Well boys, keep your cool and be nice," the officer tell his group who take position and get nervous when they see that they are outnumbered.
"How about I shoot only once?" asks a police aiming his tear gas gun towards the sky and ends up dropping on his own friends. But the protesters are moving too close to Nirmal Nibas, King Gyanendra's residence.The officer in charge moves his team one step further and request the leaders of the protestors to stop right away.
"You want to kill us? Go ahead, shoot right through my heart," a protester challenges as he takes off his shirt and points to his chest. The police start pushing the group back but they are so strong those even tear gases don't affect them anymore. "All we want is to pass through to Ring Road. If anyone throws stones at you, we will hand the person to you," shouts the group leader.
"Please try to understand. We're merely doing our job," pleads the officer in charge and tells us softly that if he didn't have his family to feed he would have joined the protestors.
Just then a group of RNA soldiers arrive with their senior officers. "What are you doing? They're still here? Push them back," says one of the officers. "You even let the press pass here? Chase them out," says another officer near the roundabout of Maharajganj.
The offended police officer loses his temper and tells his troop to rush and start charging the protestors with their batons. All the protestors, mostly young, run screaming anti-king slogans. By the end, over 15 are injured, half of whom fall down while trying to flee and bleed on the floor.
"Long live Loktantra. We'll get you soon," shouts the pro-democracy protestors as they disperse and head back to Gongabu carrying their injured friends.