Lee Chang’s mother started to cry. His father stood stupefied. Trying to control his overwhelming emotions, Lee Chang looked at the magistrate and said, ‘How can I take my wife along – she is heavily pregnant.’

‘She will have to go. There is no other way. Go, get ready. Don’t worry. This is all for your safety. If you stay on here, you might be in danger.’

Looking straight into the eyes of the magistrate Lee Chang asked in a calm voice, ‘What kind of danger, sir?’

‘The public may attack you. You can see how angry they are.’ The man looked away to hide his uneasiness.

Lee Chang became silent.

The images of the ‘public’ of Makum came to his mind. Who were the public anyway? Chitta? Johori Khan? Pulok? Narayan? Rameswar? And who else? The friends who used to support him in the football matches and rejoiced in his glory?

Yes, yes! Ananta and his groups hated them! The PSP hated them! The Congress hated them! PSP – Rameswar was a member of the PSP! Would he attack Lee Chang and the others? Who knew!

With tears in his eyes, Ganga Sagar Rai took custody of Lee Chang’s house as the entire family left, turning back again and again to look at their home.

Perplexed and in shock, some were walking silently. Others looked around terrified or walked on with eyes downcast. Near Ho Chang Ho’s house, Thakur Prasad stood with some policemen. Seeing them, he chuckled. A devilish smile spread across his face.

Seeing the smile, Dulal Yem’s mother flared up.

‘You! You’ve done all this. I know. You want to finish us. You want our land. You won’t get it. You won’t get anything. When I return, I’ll finish you first. I will drink your blood. You bloody government informer!’

‘Shhh, quiet,’ Dulal’s father intervened fearfully.

Thakur Prasad did not say anything; his smile only became sharper.

Holding Dulal’s mother, who was frothing at the mouth, Dulal’s father walked past Thakur Prasad.

‘Don’t take anything. Move. Move.’

The sound of wailing spread across Cheenapatti. The air was heavy with lamentation and sighs.

One after another, trucks carrying detainees had started entering the lane teeming with armed police. They were moving towards the cowshed of the Chowkhanis, which was known as the Murli Gola cowshed. This is where the Chinese people who had been arrested from Ledo, Margherita and the other neighbouring towns, villages and tea gardens would be held.

Tung Chin had not yet returned from work. His mother was busy correcting school notebooks. The daughters-in-law and Mei Fung were busy cooking. The children were all studying in one room, while his father and two elder brothers were listening to the news.

But this was not to last.