This type of scenario is running in my head. No resemblance to any characters real or imaginary.
BSF man: "Sir, sir, the Pakistanis are firing on us!"
HB: "Really, what is the evidence? That noise and those flashes could be fire crackers. Show me a bullet, man!"
(Some minutes later):
BSF man: "Sir, here, I got shot in the arm, the buillet is still in there"
HB: "Wait a minute". (pulls a bunch of forms out of his desk) "What is your father's name?"
BSF man: "Jarnail Singh, sir!"
HB: (penning it down) "What is your mother's name?"
BSF man: "Mandeep Kaur, sir!"
HB: "What is your name?"
BSF man: "Sir, Beant Singh, sir!"
HB: "Where were you born?"
BSF man: "Gurdaspur, sir, but why..."
HB: "I am compiling the evidence, you see. I am establishing by incontrovertible evidence that you are an Indian hit by a Pakistani bullet."
"Oh, orderly! Summon a surgeon, please! We must extract the bullet and establish that it is Pakistani. You there, get the Chinese ambassador on the line, you other there, get the American ambassador on the line 2!"
Orderly: "Sir, but...."
HB: "If this bullet is American or Chinese, we must establish that this batch of bullet was shipped by one of these two countries to Pakistan only. You know, it could have been pilfered from the Americans by Afghans in Kabul, and then our case collapses with no evidence! This is serious".
HB: (to himself) "this is simply taking too long, somebody somewhere is setting his watch by this, or is it his vernier calipers, I never remember!"
HB: (kindly, to Beant Singh) - "sit down, sit down, while the surgeon gets here. Now, can you prove that you didn't shoot yourself?"
I know, not very funny. But I see the source of our problem. It is not really Pakistan. It is the Inspector Clouseaus
that hold the GOI in their grip. If Mr. Ashwini Saini was like that, he would not have believed there was a bomb on the tracks until it actually exploded. I mean, how do you know it is a bomb? You think Mr. Saini has ever in his life seen a bomb before? I'm sure he knew the stationmaster would kick his butt all the way from Gurdaspur to Mr HB's Sonata in Delhi if he made an unsubstantiated claim that there was a bomb on the tracks. It might have been a huge wad of chewing gum, for all he knew. The right thing to do would have been to wait for the huge "boom" and the flash of flame, and the smoke, and then too, to be accurate, he should have said "something exploded" rather than "there was a bomb". Things other than bombs explode, you know, like gas cylinders.