The train abruptly stopped a station prior to Lahore. I looked out the window through its bulletproof glass. Two teenagers jumped out of the slowing train while one of them rolled down onto a milestone banging his head. They looked afraid, running out of fear.

"Sir, you should not be going out. We are looking into it," Raj prohibited me, but what kind of an inquisitive thrilled mind would listen to safety prohibitions ? It's my job to go out in the field, I reaffirmed myself.

There was enough commotion in the station. Police had been informed who had secured the area and arrested the two fleeing guys. There were rail ambulances and a flock of children. I approached the scene and my eyes caught a familiar face - the child beggar I met, was then carried by a stretcher into an ambulance. I enquired the officer-in-charge, Ravinder Singh, I knew by his id advertised on his uniform.

"I know that child. What has happened ?"

Inspector Ravinder measured my attire from top to bottom with his incisive sight. "We have caught a child trafficking gang, disguised as orphanage picnic party. Some of the children like him are choloroformed. It was a covert operation tracking these thugs for a month. May I see your id ?"

I temporarily handed over my id to him and approached the unconscious boy in pity. A piece of cardboard fell from his pocket - it was a hand-made frame - I was shocked ! It's the very same rupees note I donated to him but he did not spend it.

Ravinder took the note from my hand, "How do you know him ?"

"This is the note I gave when he came begging to me for food. You can verify the note number from the ICT (International Currency Transfers) I made. He said he lives by a station side of Ajmer."

"I see, you are Mr. ..."

"The note's indeed picturesque to be photo-framed but why ?" I interrupted him in surprise. As I stared at the spectacle-wearing face on the note, my mind went blank.

"Must be a patriotic heart revering our Leader of Nation," explained Ravinder Singh.

As I felt light-headed, like an ignorant fool, I whispered to Raj, "Who ?"

A visual array-in-air popped out of Ravinder's watch as he read through my public id profile, then returned my hardcopy to me and saluted. "The whole world recognizes Subhas Chandra Bose as our first Prime Minister with the longest tenure ever. Anyway, you could have taken the skyrail, Sir."

I felt light-headed again, as if the memory is an empty cloud, just as my Medical Supervisor warned me of symptoms of first stage. "Experiences are priceless," I answered the officer-in-charge.

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