Encounter in my House - 32 years ago

Sharing - A Personal Story - of 31 Years Ago. Of a Real Life violent encounter. Do Read it. 
Just Recollected while Clearing and disposing off old papers. Found this newspaper clipping (see the snap) and you will understand how it triggered memories. At my then employer. 
It was 28th April, if I remember correctly, of 1986. I and Suresh (Suresh Dutt Tripathi) had just had dinner and were just chatting and then planning to retire to our bedrooms and read up a bit and maybe listen to some music and then slowly drift off to sleep. It was a two bedroom house, with a sitting room, a lobby and kitchen and an attached room for the servant. The house had it's own small lawn, then an open space and a road, with some huts on the other side. It was a quiet corner of the Steel Township and peaceful. Suddenly we heard tapping at our main door, puzzled we opened it to find quite a few policemen, all armed and absolutely quiet and sort of excited. They kept stating they are coming. One armed policeman hustled away the servant to the kitchen. Then the entire lot or so entered my bedroom and one of them kept flicking the curtain of the window and whispering and they were all very anxious. We both were rather worried by now and very mystified. Then one armed guard was left in my bedroom and another armed guard escorted Suresh to his bedroom, which was across the lobby and a narrow passageway cum pantry adjoining the kitchen. 
Then there were a few moments of anxiety and total silence. And then all hell broke loose. There was firing within the house. and shouting and screaming of orders and then wailing of someone in pain and then even the dull thud of country made explosives. This was all a mystery and an evolving situation for Suresh and me. Suddenly, a young armed man ran into my bedroom, from the door leading to the lobby, sweating away and then reaching the far end only to realise it was a dead end. He slowly started to turn, and fired. He missed both me and the guard. The armed guard was sort of slowly reacting by raising his rifle. I, by pure instinct for survival and not even actually planning it, dived under the bed. The armed young intruder followed from the other side. I could see his face and panting but otherwise he was silent. This was all happening in a very few seconds. Just then another policeman charged into the room, understood what was happening and threw aside the bed. The armed guard had meanwhile become alert and fired from a very close range with his rifle. And there was blood spurting all over the wall, the books and spreading over the floor. Suddenly it all stopped. The smell of blood, smoke and fired bullets hung over us. We both met immediately, shaken but thankful we were safe and sound. A policeman, seriously injured, lay in obvious pain, two intruders were gasping and groaning with very serious injuries and some had obviously run away. The armed guard in Suresh's bedroom was more active and had even fired down the passageway and from the window. Then we both realised by and by that bullets had grazed us too, I remember distinctly, a light grazing on my chest, it tore the shirt and there was a cut on my ear too. Suresh had a similar experience. 
Then started the gathering of crowds and it was eerie in the night. And we were being asked all sorts of questions about our personal history and then while policemen wrote in Bengali we were told to a summary and asked to sign them. I still suspect that it would have gone beyond some minor embellishments as I sort of blurted out my Dad's rank and that sort of left it there. I still remember a young IPS Officer arriving just after the encounter concluded and then vomiting on seeing alll the blood and what not. 
The next few days passed in a traumatic manner, cleaning up, visiting the police station and to the hospital to thank the injured Sub Inspector. We were both puzzled as the police were certain we had drawn a huge amount of cash from the bank but we certainly had not. How could we when we had just started earning. But the intruders or armed thieves seemed to have this misinformation and decided to target us. My father wrote to the then DGP praising the policemen and thanking them and there was the normal praise. We shifted to a more central location. 
For years I preserved some file covers in which I kept important clippings, these had all the ,blood stains. But I forgot about this until I came across this old paper. 
Thought of sharing. It's a very unique experience which very few would have undergone.