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The Guards on the Gate

I remember years ago when I lived in Dublin, a friend of mine had a bedsit flat in an area called Rathmines.  Sometimes I use to go to her place to have a cup of tea after work if I had time, because my house was on the other side of the city. On the way, we used to pass the house of the current Irish Prime Minister (Taoiseach).  I remember there was a booth right at the gate with the policeman in it.

I live in an area in Lucknow where a number of VIPs live.  One of them is a judge. At the gate, there is a tent.  A fairly large one.  There seems to be a posse of policemen there day and night.  I try not to look here and there as I'm not nosy, nor would I like to be seen to be.  But sometimes you catch a glimpse of policemen asleep in that tent.  There are even clotheslines beside the tent and washing on the line and everything.

I can't help wondering at times how interesting it would be to be a VIP and have policemen camping at my gate.  I think it would make me feel very important indeed.  And what a status symbol!  It's probably just as well I don't have any such luxuries.  My ego would probably go through the roof!


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