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Maiku: But, won't others come?

Owner: No way! They will be too scared.

Maiku: And, what if the onlookers, who have gathered here, thrash me?

Owner: Don't worry about that; the police will cane them if they do. Once the police starts caning, the crowd will disperse within no time. Here, have a bottle. I am offering free drinks today.

Maiku: Free drinks to all these customers?

Owner: What could I do? No one was willing to enter the shop. But when they heard the drinks were on the house today, everyone rushed inside.

Maiku: I am not drinking today.

Owner: Why? I have ordered fresh toddy for you.

Maiku: Don't feel like drinking today. Fetch me a stick; it's much better than using the hands.

The owner immediately fetched a heavy club and placed it in Maiku's hands; he, then, positioned himself expectantly near the door to watch Maiku charge upon the volunteers and display his skill with the club.

Maiku meditatively weighed the club in his hands. But, instead of charging upon the volunteers, he sprang towards the owner and hit him so hard that the man collapsed in a heap at the door. Maiku, then, turned his attention to the boozers and started hitting them. He neither looked in front nor behind but kept raining blows.

The tipplers were awakened out of their state of inebriation and became immediately sober. They ran helter-skelter towards the door but found the owner lying at the door obstructing their exit. They had to turn back only to find Maiku challenging them with the club. Left with no other alternative, they trampled over the prostrate owner and made good their escape. Some broke their hands, some hurt their heads, and some injured their hips while trying to flee. Within a minute, there was not a soul left in the shop - not even a small bird.

Suddenly there was the sound of crashing bottles. A volunteer peeped inside and saw Maiku busy destroying the bottles. He said, "Brother, oh brother, you are wreaking havoc! It would have been better if you had vented your anger on us, volunteers."

Maiku broke the few remaining bottles and made to leave. He aimed a kick at the owner while passing out of the door.

Quadir stopped him and said, "Have you turned mad, buddy? What had you come here for, and what did you end up doing!"

Maiku looked at him with blood-shot eyes and said, "Yes, praise God that I did not do what I come here to do, but did something else. If you have the guts, go and thrash the volunteers ... I don't have guts for that. I am still reeling under remorse for that one slap which I dealt the volunteer; I will never recover from that. The marks of my fingers are imprinted on my heart. Only crooks and sissies hit those people who at grave danger to their own lives try to prevent others from committing sins. Maiku is a hoodlum and roughneck, but he is not a crook or a sissy. You may go and squeal on me to the police, they may arrest me if they wish to."

Few drunkards were still lingering nearby, watching Maiku nervously and massaging their heads. No one could pick up the courage to say anything to him. Maiku looked at them and issued a warning, "I shall come back tomorrow, too; if I find any one of you here, I will drink their blood. I ain't scared of being jailed or hanged. If you wish your own good you will never come here again, not even by mistake. These volunteers are not your enemies; rather, it is for your own good and the good of your children that they try to prevent you from drinking. Spend the money, that you otherwise spend on alcohol, on providing a better life for your children; feed them with ghee and milk. Your home is getting empty of goods and filling the pawnbroker's shop, your wife weeps at home over her poverty, and you sit here drinking! Shame on such drunkenness!"

Maiku flung away the club and taking long strides made for his own home. By then, thousands of people had gathered to see what was happening. All of them watched Maiku with respect, affection, and pride in their eyes.

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