There is something oppressive about silence. Everyone is afraid to break it. I can see the fear mirrored on the faces of the people surrounding me. Papa has fear lurking in his eyes. The sight of a uniformed officer in our home bodes no good. Having been the father of a police officer for years, he knows all too well what it means. Mummy decides to sit down on the chair and rock herself rhythmically. The rocking of the chair seems to calm her. Barun pulls his lower lip down and runs his tongue over it nervously. He reminds me of a lizard with its tongue darting in and out. Aarti, our maid, turns her back to the officer and looks into the garden. I wonder if she is really able to enjoy the profusion of flowers or if this is her means of escape. Raghav remains frozen, as though…