A fool steps in where the brave fear to tread

When I entered Presidency College in 1966, Naxalite movement had just begun in real
earnest. There was an abandoned building behind the college which was used by the Naxals as a
hideout and making crude bombs. It was a hideout where the police didn't dare to enter.
One day there was a huge blast and smoke engulfed the ruined building and even entered our first
floor library where I was chatting with my classmates. I ran down the stairs and went towards the
building. Nobody ventured to enter. The smoke cleared and we saw a young man leaning on the
iron railing of the verandah. I went to have a closer look . He was senseless. The palm of his left
hand was almost blown off and two fingers were severed from his palm and hung from the skin.
The next action that I took was instantenous and foolhardy. But I had no time to think. Seeing his
serious condition, I called a taxi and took the young man to the Hindu Hostel which was a den for
the Naxalites.
My friends later scolded me for what I did. They said I could have been arrested by the police
if they were hanging around. I knew the consequences of my action. But at that moment the sight of the injured young man had obliterated all sense of self-security. What I did was done in
the heat of the moment. But, unfortunately, that young man was later arrested.