Nepal, Sept. 20 -- Boo! Thoo!

That was how it started. Before long, explosions pierced the air. There was no warning. No tear gas. And the bullets were not aimed at the legs but straight at the chests of unarmed protestors. Gajendra paced around his room, smoking, scrolling, and cursing the Sarkar for its lethal crackdown. He read the news of a schoolkid being shot dead in the crowd. From his window, he could see the agitated mob advancing with purpose. In a while, he heard a knock on his door. Cautiously, he approached the door and asked, "Who is it?"

"I am your master. Your guru," came the reply.

Kunwar was clad in a crisp white shirt and looked unusually relaxed. "How come you look so happy?"

"Arey! Don't you see? The status you po...