“The human species can adapt and
settle to any kind of environment. They could reside at the height of fifteen
thousand feet, or build cities a few feet below the sea-level. Even one day you
might find them developing settlement beneath the ocean. But look at animals,
birds, insects - they follow nature’s judgment on choosing their height of
comfort. For example, migratory birds always maintain certain height during
their long distance flight. In spring time, you might have seen those swarms of
dragonflies flying not more than fifteen feet above you in a late afternoon. Even though they become happy fodder for Chataks (a type of small bird in Bengal),
they remain undaunted in swerving and shining above against the dying sun. I read somewhere, that there is a kind of
insect which lives on egg-plants. It never crosses a height of four feet above
the ground. So if you put a dense net across the plant covering that height, it
is saved from the insect.” Aloke (not his real name) stopped at this point, and
looked at me with the usual smile. We were sitting outside the club-house, and
enjoying the evening breeze coming from the riverfront. At the end of another
long torching summer day, we were cooling our souls in that lovely evening. The
moon was almost full, and shining above us. It created a maze of light and shade in the
surroundings. Aloke appeared to me grown a bit aged than his usual self. His
calmness and quiet voice struck me little odd, but I considered it was due to
the hangover of the tiring heat of the day making its way in the coolness of
the evening.
Aloke is my childhood friend.
Now-a-days he does not live in my hometown. He has moved near Kolkata. The day
before I came to visit my parents in my home town, and was planning to meet
some of my old friends in the week-end. So it was quite a coincidence when he
answered my call, and informed me that he was also in the town. We set an
appointment at his club around eight in the evening. Last time we met there during
Kali Puja. It was always refreshing
for me to have an adda (tete-tete)
with him. When I arrived there, I found him arranging a few chairs outside. He
welcomed me, “Let’s sit outside. It’s so hot inside the clubroom. At least you
get today nice breeze from the river.” We took our seats. He ordered for tea
from the nearby stall. He was expecting others to join. However, they preferred
to go inside to watch TV and play cards.
I commented, “This is possibly the
worst summer in my life.”
He said, “Hope so! You do not
know what is waiting for you in coming days!”
I asked, “You must be feeling horrible during
daily commuting.”
Aloke travels daily by train to
attend his office. I know these trains are so much crowded, that it may not be
even possible to board them from an intermediate station like the one Aloke
commutes from.
He replied, “I somehow manage to
sneak in, and place myself beside the door of the coach. I do not bother how
other two hundred passengers inside that compartment are struggling. I simply
want to be among those four, who could stand near the gate, and at least, enjoy
the cool air rushing from outside.”
“Is there no competition for
those places?”
“Yes! You need to be an expert, experienced,
and moreover extremely motivated to earn your prized position. It does not mean,
I am in heaven and others are in hell! All of us are almost in the same boat
brother, but fighting for a little personal preference on our adjustments!
That’s how we human continue to live and grow! After all, the human species can
adapt ….”
This was how we started our
conversation, where he distinguished a human being from other animals of this
world for its unfathomed capacity and tolerance to adjust itself in a hostile challenging
environment.
His words reminded me of experiences
of one of my friends cum students on living in an uninhabitable part of this
world –in our army barracks of Siachen Glacier.
He is a doctor in the army, and had spent a few years in Siachen. He told
me how our soldiers live their days and nights in a temperature as low as 35
degree below the freezing point. Before
going to Siachen one has to go through an acclimatization program for about two
months. If you fail the test, you need to go through again till you declared
fit for the service. In Siachen camp, a doctor has a very important role not
only to take care of physical health of the resident soldiers, but also to
monitor their mental state. The doctor has to communicate with every soldier,
and needs to take utmost precaution even for an ordinary syndrome like headache.
In that high altitude, it may turn into a life-threatening sickness. It may
require even his evacuation from the camp to its base. Then the decision of a
doctor becomes so vital for his survival, that it needs a lot of courage and
conviction, to fight against the camp commandant, if he shows any reluctance in
permitting the much needed evacuation. I shared his experiences with Aloke. My
doctor friend also told me how the soldiers had to carry out the task of
patrolling in disputed areas among two countries. The word patrolling may sound
to us as another routine benign task of a soldier, but its consequences may be
far reaching for him and his family. He
said to me, “At least twice a month there would be patrolling in the disputed
land. These are the areas where both the bordering countries put their claims.
They can stretch as far as 50 km. from the camp. In Siachen, we have disputed
lands with China and Pakistan. In every patrolling team of roughly 110 to
120 persons, there would be a doctor. We used to divide ourselves into several
groups, and cover the whole area walking overnight. It is like a hide-and-seek
game. You need to keep yourselves out of your adversaries’ sight. For staking
our claim over the territory, we had to walk about 10 to 12 Km. and then plant
a flag at some point. We had to throw there some Indian stuff, like bottles,
cigarette packets, tubes of tooth pastes and shaving cream, etc. If the Chinese
saw you, they would shout, “Go back Indian! Go back!” But they are sensible.
They only shout, do not shoot at you. If it is in the disputed area with Pakistan, then
you have hardly any choice! You have to try your luck for dodging their
bullets. Once, our team was patrolling on a hill top in the disputed area with China.
We got a message from our base, that the hill was surrounded by the Chinese
army. By mistake we had entered into their undisputed territory. Negotiations
were going on between two sides. But we were advised to get ourselves out of
their territory by making all efforts. Somehow, by crawling down from the other
side of the hill, we could manage to sneak in into our territory.”
By narrating his experiences, I
told Aloke, “In every season our soldiers are playing these strange “catch a
thief” kinds of games, as we used to play them in our childhood. The problem is
that kids are rational enough not to cause any injury in their mock-fights,
where the adults are not so. In our
childhood game, if you were caught, you were declared “out”, and asked to be
the chaser in the next turn. But the
games our soldiers play at the border have much harder consequences. Being
caught at the hand of your opponent, you may spend your whole life in a foreign
prison. If you are exposed to them, you may get injured or even killed. Also,
consider the crores spent by both the countries for playing these games.
Consider the huge effort in gathering man power and resources drawn to that
high altitude camps in uninhabitable regions. How many lives would be wasted or
sacrificed only God knows! But the show still goes on with ever lasting dispute
on imaginary border.”
Aloke was listening intently to
my words. When I finished, I found a strange smile on his lips. He told, “This
is what our system is. We cannot escape
its dynamics. Siachen is no exception. We are all bound to the rules of the
games dictated by this system. Knowingly or unknowingly, you have to play your
role following its rules, on which you have hardly any control. Let me tell you
a story. How our life is trapped in this system, you would get an idea from
it.”
The story he told me after this, let
me put it in his version.
…
“You know my father-in-law, a
retired school teacher, quite aged now, around seventy years old. He has some
ancestral property in a village about 20-25 Km. from here. Do you remember
Sadiq Hossain (not his real name), our school mate? He is from that locality. They ruled those
areas as big land-lords before independence, and still have a lot of influence
and property in that region. Of course, the village is in the interior, a few
miles away from the little township around the main bus-stop. My grandfather-in-law
used to take care of their ancestral property. He used to live there. After his
death about three years ago, most of the landed property was sold. Still the ancestral home and a few pieces of
cultivable land are left with my father-in-law. About two years ago,
father-in-law told me, “Aloke! I am thinking of repairing the temple in our ancestral
home. I would also like to build a new temple in the memory of my father.”
I encouraged him to fulfill his
wishes. He needed some assignment after his retirement. So in the month of
February that year, we went there and stayed for a few days in his village. It
was a real vacation for us. The whole family got elated, when the villagers
gave us a warm welcome. The whole village celebrated the occasion of our
home-coming and inauguration of the temple. Some of them told my father-in-law,
“Babu (Sir)! Do not forget us. You were like our guardians.
Do not break the age old ties with us.” He also got emotional and touched by their fellow
feelings.
Last year again in the winter, we
went back to the village. This time
father-in-law hosted a Samaj (its
literal meaning is ‘society’, but in this context it is a social feast offered
to the villagers). Once again, we could feel the joy and excitement of the
villagers in having us among them. That was last year. In the beginning of this
year, father-in-law decided to build a house there, as the old building was
damaged heavily. He wanted to stay in the village more often, and spend more
time with the villagers. The work got started. As he was looking after it, he
made a temporary hut there and was living with my mother-in-law. This
arrangement was going on from February this year. Most of the time, they were
spending their days in supervising the construction work. Sometimes he used to say
to me over the telephone, “Aloke! Why don’t you visit us? At least find how
these two oldies are camping here in the jungle of concrete, and brickwork.”
Last Saturday, an unusual
incident happened in that village. Like other days, he was taking rest in the
evening inside his temporary hut. Suddenly he could hear sounds of commotion,
and speeding footsteps outside his house. Coming out in the open space, he
found a few villagers running with excitement. He asked them, “Why are you
running?” They replied, “Folks in another part (called parha in Bengali) of the village caught a thief.” My father-in-law
took no further interest in this matter.
However, as it happens in such a
situation, the poor thief got a real thrashing from the villagers. Then the
police came, and took him away in their custody. Next day, Barababu
(Officer in-Charge (OC) or the first sub-inspector (SI)) of that police station
came to investigate the incident. He took statement from the villagers, and
prepared a report. The villagers wanted to get it checked by my father-in-law.
He pointed out that the date of the incident was missing in the report, which
was taken care of swiftly. The matter ended there. At least, it appeared to
them so.
On last Monday, father-in-law’s
nephew visited him. He lives also in our town, but has homeopathy practice in
their ancestral place. He went there to help his uncle in looking after the
construction work. Around two o’ clock in the afternoon, he got a call in his
cell phone.
“Where are you now?”
“I am in the village with my
uncle.”
“Then don’t move from there. The
whole area near the market place has become sensitive. The thief caught in your
village has died today. He is from the Mohammedan community. So people from all
these villages have become extremely agitated and violent. They blocked road, put
vehicles in fire, shut the market place and gheraoed
(blocking the entry and exit from a place) the police station. It is better for
you to stay tonight at your uncle’s house.”
So the nephew decided to spend
that night in my father-in-law’s place. In the evening a few villagers came to
my father-in-law’s place, and warned him, “Babu.
Police will be coming. You better leave this place.”
He rebuked them, “Why should I
run away? What is there for me? Neither I robbed any one, nor I raised a single
finger on that thief. So why should I be afraid of policemen? Let the police do
their duty, let me do mine.”
The villagers silently departed
from that place. In fact, all the male members of that village went somewhere
else. None could be traced in that evening.
After an hour or so, three police
vans entered the village. With them were the OC and the SDPO (Sub-Divisional
Police Officer). They stopped near his hut. My father-in-law came out to greet
them. The SDPO made a casual query, “You are …. ?”
He introduced himself and also
his nephew as well.
Then they were told, “Please come
with us for a while.”
Father-in-law enquired, “What is
the matter?”
“Let’s go for a walk. We would
like to have a chat with you.”
The nephew said, “I am not
properly dressed. I am wearing only a ganzee
(casual dress). Do we have to go far?”
“Put on a shirt on top of it.”
Almost immediately both of them
went out with the police.
Even after two hours when they
did not return, my mother-in-law started worrying. She rang me. It was around 9
PM. She informed me, “Aloke! Your father and his nephew went with the police,
but they have not returned yet. I am having an uneasy feeling.”
I was wondering whom to call at
that time. Almost everyone in that place, whom I knew was inaccessible. Either
their cell phones were switched off, or they were not responding to my call. Not a single known person could be contacted
from that village. Finally I could get Sadiq’s Mejda’s (the second in the seniority of brothers) phone number. I
called him. He informed me, “Police arrested your father-in-law, and his nephew.
They brought murder charge against them.”
I was shocked, “How could they
bring such a false charge against them?”
He replied, “Police is helpless
brother! The situation is totally out of control. The villagers are still
waiting outside the police station. Even my Barda
(the senior most brother) is not able to get into there. Police has to show
some action. So they arrested them. Even the arrested persons are not kept
here, in the fear of their safety. They were transferred to the near-by Sub-divisional
Police Station. Tomorrow they will be produced before the court.”
As you know Sadiq’s family is
very influential and rich in that area. So not letting the head of the family
in intervening the matter indicates that the mob was extremely agitated and
desperate to punish anyone related to the death!
Next day both the accused persons
were produced before the court. But they did not get bail. It was not expected
also. None can get a bail so easily being charged or framed under the Section
304 (of culpable homicide not amounting to murder) in the Indian penal code. It
was altogether a different and a new experience to me. Before this event, I had
never been to a court and had no knowledge of its affair – the show run by the
lawyers, judges, court officials and clerks – overall, the proceedings of the
hearing for bail application. The whole incident was a revelation to me. First,
I was baffled to find the real reasons of the incident, and I realized that my
father-in-law and his nephew became the victim of the situation – pawns to a
cruel game – hatched by a few rich businessmen of that locality. They were not
very happy with certain actions of Mejababu
(the second Sub-Inspector or Police Officer) of that police station, who
happened to be a good officer and was doing his duty rightfully. But his
adversaries were on the look out of replacing him. In the previous jamana (the reign, in this case the
period under the rule of left front), things would have been handled
differently. They would have approached local party office, which in turn would
contact the Alimuddin (the Party head
quarter), and get the man in action replaced by a simple order from his
superior. But now with the change of the Government, no one knows how to get
this thing done. So they took a different route. First, they framed the officer
by a false accusation of rape. Then this incident happened. It gave them a new window
of opportunity. The victim being a Muslim, they played the communal card,
sensing the new Government’s priority in keeping the Muslim vote-bank intact.
So they posed the incident as the killing of a Muslim person by Hindu villagers,
and incited the communal sentiment to a great extent. They also spread the
rumor that Mejababu was responsible
for the protection of culprits. Note that Mejababu
was nowhere in the scene. It was Barababu
who was the investigating officer. But these persons were desperate to
castigate him by any means, and the unfortunate death of the poor thief gave
them the necessary impetus. So the mob anger was channeled against the police
station targeting Mejababu. The message
went to the top and the local administration was instructed to pacify the
villagers by any means. As a consequence the police lead by the SDPO, raided
the village. The poor villagers left their houses. The police arrested my
father-in-law and his nephew, whom they met on the very first occasion of their
raid. They had to show to the warring mob, that they were successful in nabbing
a few culprits! Still the situation in
that area is tense. Every evening the raids are going on in the village. Even as
on today, no one could return to that village. I had to bring back
mother-in-law from that place. With a great difficulty, by taking Sadiq’s Mejda’s help, I could bring her here.
When the bail applications were
rejected, a young lawyer in that court advised me, “Look Aloke-da, let me be
blunt. You may hire the most experienced and the costliest lawyer among us, and
spend all your money to engage him. But, nothing will happen in this case in
near future. Under the present circumstances, and the section framed against
them, no way could you get them out of the jail-house. May I suggest an alternative?
Now this case has moved to the district court. You have to apply for their bail
there. You know that from the Government side, the case will be handled by PPs
(Public Prosecutors). There is an in-charge of all the PPs in the district
court. But there is also an unofficial in-charge of that in-charge. He is also
a PP, and belongs to the ruling party. Contact him. He can instruct this official
PP-in-charge not to oppose the bail application. Then only your father-in-law
could get the bail. You should first contact your local MP or MLA. Through him,
you try to contact the unofficial in-charge. This should work.”
I got the hint. This is how the
system runs here. You cannot change or presume its rules on your own ideals. My
father-in-law made that mistake by ignoring the advice of the semi-literate
villagers to run away. He put his complete faith on the copybook integrity of our
cops. I did not want to commit the same mistake again. So I took his advice
seriously.
---
Next Morning, I went to meet our
MLA. He is a real gentleman, and seems to be quite pragmatic and reasonable. He
listened to my briefing of the incident. I could get some sympathy also, when I
told that my father-in-law’s nephew acted as his poling agent in the last
election. He could recognize him also by name. I requested him, “Dada (Sir)!
Please do something! Tell your person in the district court to instruct the
PP-in-charge to make some arrangement, so that those two unfortunate victims
get their bail. They are truly innocent.”
He advised me, “Write two
applications - one to the PP-In-charge, and the other one to the person who
looks after our affair. I will write my recommendation on the second one.”
I further requested, “Dada!
Please! Can you make a phone call to him, and explain the matter?”
He talked to the political PP
over the phone, and asked me to meet him next day.
On Wednesday, I went to the
district court and met the de-facto PP-in-charge there. He went through the
papers. Then, he took Rs. 650/= from me for filing the bail application, and
assured me that the case would be put up for hearing soon.
Unfortunately, due to this heat
wave, cease work started in the court from yesterday. Initially we were told
that it would begin from the next Monday. A section of lawyers also wanted so.
Even on Thursday night, I had a talk with the PP over the telephone. He asked
us to report to the court on Friday. Yesterday when we went there, we found vacation
has already been declared till the 30th May. However, the PP told us, “A few cases were put
up in the Morning. Among them your case was also there. The next hearing is
scheduled on the 31st May.”
I asked him, “Dada! Will they get
bail?”
He smiled at me and told, “See, on
that day the court should ask for the C.D. (case diary) to be produced, and fix
a new date for hearing.”
“Then?”
“Then..”, he paused and then continued,
“You should realize that if your party gets bail so easily even after being
charged under the section 304, it would be quite unprecedented and may create a
bad precedence for other genuine cases in future.”
It was not difficult for me to comprehend
what he wanted to say by those words. This is what the system is. Whether an
innocent person spends a few more days in the prison, is not a matter of
priority before the court. Court has its own rational to declare sudden vacation,
reschedule the hearings accordingly, and then proceeds in its own pace. The
police have their own obligations for tackling the law-and-order in a
challenging situation. Even if they had to go for shooting a few lame ducks to
save their skins, they would not have an iota of hesitation to do so. Why
should they care? Do they have any accountability whatsoever; even if no charge
sheet is framed against those so called accused? Only those victims and their
families are in the receiving end. They are to face the trauma and catastrophe
out of these exercises. This is their fate in this system. Everyone is
sympathetic and intelligent enough to realize that these two persons in all
probability are innocent. But, once the game is on, the players and actors have
to follow its rules and procedures in the process of granting them bail. Till
then they have to spend their days behind the bar. So you see, whether it is in
the glacier of Siachen, or in a village
of Bengal, these games
are being played, and you may become the poor hapless victim, centering whom
the show would go on.”
…
When Aloke stopped, I wondered,
“Do you mean to say, you went through all these troubles in last few days
only?”
Aloke smiled and nodded, “The
incident happened on last Saturday, just a week before. My father-in-law and
his nephew got arrested on Monday Evening. Since then we are on the run. I am
here since then. Tomorrow I would go home, and join my office on next Monday. Till
the next hearing on the 31st May, I do not have any business on this
affair.”
I did not find any words of
consolation for him for a while. When I met him this evening, from his
appearance I never imagined he was under such a stress. Even when he narrated
me his recent experiences, he disclosed all the information in such an indifferent
tone, that initially I thought he was telling me some happenings in the distant
past.
I asked him, “Where are your
father-in-law and his nephew now?”
“They are in the prison, in this
town only.”
“How is the arrangement there?”
“Well, as it should be! There are
56 persons in a room of size 15 (feet)
by 15 (feet).”
“Where do they sleep? Do they
have cots?”
“Forget it! Even there is no room
for spreading a bed sheet. I told you, it’s a room of 15 by 15, per person you
would get an area of 4 sq. feet only! I was afraid to ask them to know how they
are managing in that cell. But the jail warden is a good person. He told us,
“Whenever you feel, you can come, and meet him. I have also asked other
prisoners to behave with them properly.” During one such visit, my father-in-law
told me, “Aloke! I had no idea what this world could be! Whether you believe or
not, 70% of these prisoners are innocent. They are here without any reason. Even
one of them is here in spite of receiving a bail. There is no one to pay Rs. 200/= as his bond. In his house, he has his wife
and two kids only. They do not have any information either. So he is still
here. Finally, I made an arrangement to send a letter to his home; hopefully he
will be released soon. One day, from another cell, one of the heads of these
prisoners came to visit me. He told me, “Mastermashai
(an address to a school teacher)! I knew your father. I respected him a lot. I
am a lifer (punished with life
imprisonment). Even now there are three murder cases against me. But don’t
worry. I told others to behave with you. If you face any trouble, just inform
me.” Being a teacher these people are
giving me a lot of respect.” I told my father-in-law, “Sir, no wonder there are
more innocent people like you in this prison. This is how we run our system.
This prison is basically meant for all these poor socially backward people.
They are the real victims. This prison is an instrument of keeping them
terrorized. It is a coincidence that you happened to be here. Somehow you are
caught in the net during the fishing hunt of our babus (powerful persons). You were at a wrong place at a wrong time.”
Aloke paused a while, and then
asked, “What do you think a man should possess to survive in this system?”
I looked at him expecting him to
continue.
He observed, “Patience! More
patient you are, better is the chance of your survival! It’s a test on your patience!
Patiently you need to carry on what you are supposed to do. Do not loose it to
defy the logic of this game. Rather, you should understand the script of the
drama being staged, and play your role accordingly. Otherwise, you may get
trapped in the uncomfortable zone of uncertainty with a catastrophic
consequence in your life. Sadly I was miserable at my recent exercises. I could
not keep my cool. I shouted at everyone I met concerning this matter; behaved
crazily with my well wishers. God knows what I told them out of sheer
frustration. Somehow, they tolerated me. But I need to be more careful. Now I
am trying my best to assess the situation and rectify myself. I am preparing myself for the next act of
this drama.”
20/5/2012
