Baba’s face was painted with deep trouble. He knew deep down his heart that something was not right. Something very dark was lurking around the corner and he was desperate to stop that. But deep down his heart there was a war going on whether to stop what was going to happen or to let it happen. Was it a poetic justice? Was it the God’s judgement? Was he supposed to stop or not? This war kept his mind occupied, but he realised that quickly what he was supposed to do and he just went after the constable who was