As usual, after brewing up in the morning, the staff is preparing lunch in the kitchen. Lying down on a bed, the ranger is reading an old newspaper called Gorkha Patra. He wakes up, looks through the window, where the ravishingly beautiful scenery is smiling. The sun has glinted on the windows. He comes out, sits on a chair comfortably, crosses his legs, and shakes it. A small radio is nearby, singing an old Nepali song. He turns his head right and left, then suddenly stands, stretches the body, inserts his hands into the jacket pocket, and takes steps around. Because of the warm sunlight, the chair attracts him to lull in the sunshine. He skips through the same Gorkha Patra and repeats it many times. He rotates the radio frequency in search of another program but finally settles on Radio Nepal.
“Hello, Guthi post, Walkie-talkie offers a message from Headquarters.” “Yes, Guthi post here, Over! How is it going there? Any message, Guthi post, Over!” “Everything is okay till now, Over! Ok, all right, if anything, then inform us, over!” “Sure, we will, over!” The walkie-talkie is stopped. It is the only medium to communicate between headquarters and post, post to post.
Sizzling vegetables give a sapid smell in the kitchen, and one of them slurps tea. After a moment, lunch is ready for the day. “Sir, food is ready! Would you like to have it now or later?” The ranger wrinkles his forehead, shakes his leg, thinks, and says, “If it is ready, then okay, let’s have lunch.” All the staff is genial and enthusiastic, having their meal on the patio. With mouthful rice, Shevak requests to pass the water jar. Red fired chilies are placed on a plate on the side, and a water jar is passed in front of him. He drinks water, giving a sound “clak.. clak…!” “Since a long time, haven’t had the taste of Jaad (rice beer),” says Tank. “Ohy, don’t remind the head,” reacts Shevak. “See, see, his mouth is watering as he heard the Jaad,” says Indra. The rest laugh at them. “Drink too much when you are at home on holiday and bring some bottles of Jaad for us. Here in the jungle, we can’t find the village,” says Dhakal. In the meantime, Tank says, “I will bring a gallon and sink in it; it would be so much nice.” All of them laugh with loud voices.
By the time they finish their dishes and head to the ranger. “Have you all had lunch, guys?” “Yes, sir, we did, and now we are here for about patrolling today.” “Okay, if so, then we can go for a short patrol towards the north side. It’s boring to be here in the room always; it would be wonderful to walk in the jungle,” says the ranger. He adds, “Though involved in the park service, the experience would be memorable. Guthi is naturally wonderful but is the main poaching area as well. Hills and unreachable treks, geographic features support poachers, making it easier to hunt animals. No weapons are provided to game scouts; empty hands are their weapons to protect against the hunters. Normally, poachers use the jungle both day and night, but when and where, it’s hard to track them. Barbecue made of a wooden stick to dry meat is found in many spots prepared by poachers. It seems not for them but to smuggle the dry meat somewhere in the part of the country. So, how many of us go for patrolling?” Ranger says. “We don’t need to go all today, sir. Indra and I will go today, and it’s not too far,” says Dhakal. “Yes, yes, two of us go today; it’s regular places. Next day we can go in a group. If we find anything we like, we would inform you soon,” supports Indra to Dhakal. “Even though, the group would be strong, so it would be better,” the ranger says. Before the ranger ends his words, Dhakal says, “Not to worry, sir, it is not too far, somewhere near.” Pointing to other staffs, he adds, “If they would be here with you, then you wouldn’t feel bored too.” Other game scouts try to say something, but they insist on their own decision. “Move, let’s move,” says Dhakal, and then they head to the jungle. “Hey guys, listen,” tries to say the ranger, but couldn’t. They keep continuing to move forward. “What happened to them today, just two went, always used to be in a group,” says one of the game scouts. “Okay, guys, they did not agree. Tomorrow we would go in a group,” says the ranger as he enters his room.
Two game scouts lie down on a lawn, and another just sits and turns up the radio volume, and lights a cigarette. On the other hand, Indra and Dhakal are pacing while chatting. Branches of trees are gently swaying in the breeze, dried leaves often drop, birds are chirping melodiously, disturbing the natural silence that can’t be shunned. Indra picks two sticks of Gainda cigarettes, lights one, and gives the other to Dhakal. Dhakal denies and says, “One stick is enough for us; shops are not near, and we need it for tomorrow as well. Keep it for other days.” Sharing a cigarette, moving forward, and chatting with each other, they do not realize they are entering deep into the jungle. Suddenly, Dhakal’s eyes collide with his watch; he breaks his step. It’s nearly three PM. “We are so far away; let’s end it here today.” “Yes, you are right! Just have a short rest, then be back to the post.” A dried log supports them as a natural chair, a small scorpion passes under the log, hardwood forest, quiet, and beautiful scenery keep the mind lull and relaxed. They light another cigarette and become quiet for a moment. Indra thinks to have a holiday leave and visit his family. Dhakal asks him to visit his family as well. By the time, Dhakal pees under the tree, “Humm… ya, it is better now,” he says. Indra does the same. “Let’s go back, Dhakal,” Indra says, “Okay, let’s go now.” Lightning another cigarette, they head back to the post. “Have you got any extra blade, Indra? I have to shave my beard,” “Yes, I have. I will give it to you when we are in the post,” Dhakal replies. “Good, yar, now I can shave my beard.” As they continue on their path, they hear people speaking somewhere. They stop and try to find the direction the voices are blowing in the air. Finally, they find a group of people. Two out of fourteen are underage, and the rest are matured. Dokos (bamboo baskets) are placed on
