From Dusk Till Dawn

It was just another night at Westin’s Colony, a residential area comprising around fifty houses, nestled away from the hustle and bustle of the town.

People lay awake on their beds, some reading, some watching television, some tucking their little ones in bed and shushing them to sleep, and some casting occasional glances at the bedroom window that faced the street.

In some time, a sharp noise, accompanied by a shrilly voice, was heard all over the neighbourhood,

“Clang! Clang! Clang! Ayo Goka!”

And strangely, like clockwork, the lights went out, the sounds died down, and a blanket of silence descended over the locality.

Sebu’s footsteps echoed softly on the pavement as he moved through the colony. The chilly night air wrapped around him like a familiar blanket, and the rhythmic tap of his bamboo stick against the metal gates became the neighborhood’s lullaby.

A tall, lanky figure, clad in a beige uniform and a heavy jacket, strolled the streets with a bamboo stick in hand. He paused briefly in front of each house, tapped the metal gate thrice with his stick, exclaimed, “+Ayo Goka!”, and then moved on to the next house.

“Ah! Sebu is here,” the people would think, and go off to sleep peacefully.

Sebu was the faithful watchman of the locality, who had been guarding them safe every night for several years now. He was a good-natured old man, nearing his seventies, and was truly passionate about his job. His dedication and sincerity were appreciated by everyone in the neighbourhood, and he was respected and loved by all for the same.

He hailed from the north-eastern part of the country, from the hills, and took a lot of pride in what he did. All his ancestors had served as guards, some had even sacrificed their lives while in service. Bravery and valour were in his blood, and he would always recall the motto his grandfather had introduced him to as a kid,

“Better to die than to be a coward!”

The words had struck a chord within him and kept ringing in his ears forever. He would punch his chest with his fist and exclaim, “Ayo Goka!”

Sometimes, after his rounds, Sebu would pause on the street corner, looking up at the stars that reminded him of home in the hills, a quiet smile touching his lips as he whispered, “Ayo Goka.”

He was a loner, and all he had left for himself was his job, which he loved beyond measure and his wish was to die while in service, like his ancestors.

He had left home as a young lad and had never gone back. Westin’s Colony had been his home ever since, and the people were his family. He was sworn to protect them, he strongly believed and he would let no harm befall them, no matter what.

The people had grown to love him eventually, and no day ended without hearing his reassuring cry—

“Clang! Clang! Clang! Ayo Goka!”

They had got so used to these sounds over the years that they needed to hear them, to fall asleep every night.

On some nights, when Sebu was in a cheerful mood, they would receive a little bonus as he would sing some tribal songs that he knew.

During the day, he would run errands for people, play with their kids, and entertain them with stories about his ancestors. The kids would listen to him, eyes wide with curiosity and mouths agape, as he told them about real incidents in history, how a battalion of his ancestors had once charged fearlessly into battle, *khukris gleaming in hand.

They adored him, and would engage in plastic sword fights with their friends, chanting “Ayo Goka!”

Some would even mimic Sebu, walking around Westin’s with sticks in their hands, tapping the gates thrice and chanting “Ayo Goka!”, much to his amusement. He would smile at them lovingly and clap his hands in encouragement.

With Sebu around, there was never a reason to fear or stay alone at night. People at Westin’s were safe.

For years,

“Clang! Clang! Clang! Ayo Goka!”

was all they needed to hear,

to drift into sleep peacefully every night,

knowing that they were being watched upon by someone they trusted wholeheartedly,

'Sebu, their guardian angel!'

It’s often the quiet, steady voices like Sebu’s that make us feel safest. They don’t shout or demand attention, but their presence becomes a sacred comfort, a ritual that steadies our hearts.

And while the clang of his stick may have softened with time, his spirit still watches over that little colony, reminding us all of the power in quiet devotion.

________________________________________

+ ( 'Ayo Goka' was actually “Ayo Gorkhali!” meaning “The Gurkhas are upon you!” It’s the battle cry of one of the world’s most renowned fighting men: Nepal’s fearless “happy warriors.” But what reached the people of Westin’s Colony, through Sebu’s voice and thick accent, was “Ayo Goka.” And so it remained... “Ayo Goka” to them, until the very end).

* (The khukri is a curved knife, iconic to the Gorkhas, both a weapon and a symbol of honour and courage.)