Jadob was used to dealing with officials and had seen the world. He was polite and courteous, but in broad terms he asked the Collector to please explain what was happening.

Behera’s first response was to repeat what Rath had told the Gonds two days ago at Deogan, but in a slower and more bored voice. This, Korok thought, was supposed to be impressive, but since the room had already impressed Korok more than anything else he had ever seen in his life, the Collector’s tone did not make any difference.

The mahji, picking his cue from Jadob, asked Behera how the sorkar could make the Gonds leave when Devi Hills was officially a protected forest area.

Behera coughed gently and continued being bored. ‘See, the state government has announced that the area is no longer a forest. I have a letter, a circular as we call it, which says so. Rath must have showed it to you.’

‘He did, but we have also heard that a company is going to dig the mine, not the sorkar.’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘On the Internet. The company has declared it on its website.’

Behera was quiet for a bit. ‘I see. Look, I can only tell you what the government tells me. Everything I know I have already told you through Rath. I can’t do anything about it. The state government has decided your forest is not a protected forest. I can also tell you that the ministry of mines of the central government in Delhi has told the state government that there are bauxite deposits in Devi Hills. That is all I know.’

‘Is a company involved in this?’

Again Behera pretended to be very bored. ‘I do not know of this. But the process has already started. The government wants you to leave. I am sorry, but I have no say in this matter. If I get any more information or orders, I will tell you.’

The room did not seem as clean and bright to Korok any more, for some reason. The group realised that Behera was going to keep repeating this as many times as they asked him questions, and there was nothing they could do about it. Slowly, quietly, they left.

Every town has a local newspaper. If it is a small town, it might not, in which case it has stringers. A stringer is exactly the same as a reporter, except she is paid less. A stringer in a small town or district headquarters waits for that one big story or event which can be sent to big newspapers in cities, which will bring her fame.

Balangir town had a stringer who wrote for at least three big newspapers in Bhubaneshwar. After the last big story about Maoists, which was more than a year ago, nothing much had happened in Balangir. The Stringer usually hung around the magistrate courts, Patnaik’s office or Behera’s office and sniffed for news.