Intazaar...

(This is a true story of a close acquaintance. I have changed the names and professions of the characters and the location where the story took place.) 

“Leader of the opposition is summing up his party's position on the motion. He is the last speaker. After this, the Rajya Sabha members will vote on the motion……a historical motion indeed…..” The TV reporter was talking non-stop.

Poorani had been glued to the 24x7 news channel for the past one hour. Kalai Arasi, her elder daughter noticed the palpable tension in Poorani’s face. She took Poorani’s hand and gave a gentle press to signify psychological support.

The channel took a commercial break.

Poorani closed her eyes and reclined on the sofa. Tears rolled down her eyes.

March, 1980.

“Champagam Dorairajan…a Brahmin girl; married at a young age; brilliant in studies….was denied a seat in Medical College. Why? Because she was born in a Brahmin family. The communal G.O of the then Madras Government….” Poorani was arguing against reservations in the annual inter college debate.

“Exactly….she was born in a caste which had oppressed, which had kept the rest of India in its wraps for centuries…. exactly these considerations weighed with the law makers when they introduced Article 15 (4) to provide for reservation….if judges, who are far removed from masses, whose only claim is intellectual supremacy can indulge in parochial interpretation of the Constitution…..” Samudram, a student of the Madras Law College intervened and argued for reservation.

Though she was ready with Justice H R Khanna’s caution against the dangers of indiscriminate, liberal construction of the Constitution, she held back. She noticed the fire in his eyes. His hands were shaking in anger. He must have suffered humiliation. He must be a Dalit. She felt that the harsh reality in his argument far outweighed the academic perfection in hers.

He won the debate. She congratulated him.

“Did you lose the debate intentionally the other day?”  They had started meeting each other for the past one month.

“Yes and no” replied Poorani.

“What does that mean?”

“I had arguments to counter yours. But I did not put forward the same….”

“That means you lost deliberately….”

“No…even if I had put them forward, I would have lost before the force in your 

arguments.”

“Not at all…you are being too humble…..please tell me the truth …. Why did you lose….”He took her hand as he was talking.

“For this only….” She blushed.

His daughter was in love with a Dalit boy!

Kailasam could not stand that. Kailasam was not an orthodox Brahmin. But he was not that ‘liberal’, that ‘progressive’ as to agree for his daughter’s marriage with a Dalit boy.

Rajam rushed to him with a glass of water. Rajam’s hands trembled. She knew Poorani well. If she made up her mind once, she would not change. Did she not know that her decision would affect Janaki, her younger sister’s marriage prospects as well?

Poorani listened to their arguments patiently; politely answered all of them.

But she would not change her mind.

Samudram and Poorani married in the Registrar’s office. Kailasam and Rajam signed as reluctant witnesses.

They both started working in Adept Chambers, a leading law firm in Chennai.  

Samudram got a job as Government Pleader within a couple of years under the SC/ST quota.

“The chairman of the Rajya has adjourned the House for an hour. Thereafter the voting on the motion will take place….We promise to bring you all the action…..” shouted the TV reporter. Poorani went to the kitchen and prepared coffee for her and Kalai Arasi.

As she sipped, she plunged into the flashback again.

Janaki came and helped Poorani when she delivered the elder daughter. Frustrated with embarrassing questions from the prospective bridegrooms' side, Janaki decided to remain a spinster.

Samudram took the child to the Chief Minister who named her Kalai Arasi. For Kailasam and Rajam, Kalai Arasi was still Alamelu, the Brahmin name they had kept.

When Poorani delivered their second daughter a couple of years later, Samudram told her to quit her job.

“Vaayya Samudram….vaa (Weclome, Samudram),” The Chief Minister threw his hand around Samudram’s shoulder and invited him. Poorani who had accompanied him to the party felt awkward.

The CM had thrown a party to celebrate the acquittal of his brother from a murder case the previous day. Samudram who led the prosecution team had sought his conviction and lost the case!

How could the CM welcome a prosecutor so happily who lost his government’s case!

“I am buying this bungalow,” said a jubilant Samudram while he took Poorani around the two storey building in Gandhi Nagar, Adayar the next day.

‘This bungalow would cost not less than Rs. 2 Crores. Barely 10 years into the job as Government Pleader, how did he manage to buy such a posh building?’ wondered Poorani.

Samudram’s name figured in the list of 5 new judges appointed to Madras High Court in 2002. Governor of the State and Chief Justice of Madras High Court had recommended his name.

Samudarm threw a grand party to celebrate his appointment. He invited the Chief Minister and other leading members of the ruling party which raised many eyebrows in the media.

Samudram purchased 2 acres of land in Perungudi in the name of Kalai Arasi.

The Tamilnadu Government allotted 22 acres of prime land at a throw away price to a trust run by Chief Minister’s son-in-law. A concerned NGO filed a PIL in the Madras High Court challenging the allotment.

A three member bench, of which Samudarm was one, dismissed the petition.

Samudram purchased another 5 acres of land in Sriperumpudur in his 2^nd daughter’s name. A concerned Poorani tried to talk to him.

“Will you please shut up? Did I ask for your advice?” said an obviously irritated Samudram.

Where was the Samudram she had known in 1980s- the principled Samudram, the loving Samudram?

Poorani was ashamed to share her concern with her parents.

When a collegium duly constituted by the Chief Justice of India recommended his name for promotion to Supreme Court in 2008, all the hell broke.

A Civil Society group wrote to the Chief Justice and President alleging corruption on the part of Samudram and seeking his removal. Samudram countered that since he was a Dalit, he was being victimized by the higher caste Civil Society.

Very soon 62 members of the Rajya Sabha brought a motion to impeach him.

Samudram made a spirited argument in the Rajya Sabha in his defence.

“The Chairman has announced voting on the impeachment motion….members are casting their votes…..”

Poorani closed her eyes tightly. Losing the job may not affect them financially. But the ignominy of being booted out of office, that too first time in the history of the country through an impeachment motion…..

“For those viewers who joined us late, voting is in progress…. In another five minutes we will get the results…five more minutes of nail biting wait…..”

Poorani was waiting......

1201

Year 2500

Vikram climbed the tree and brought the corpse down. He carried the Vetal on his shoulder and started walking.  Vetal said,” Hey King Vikaramaditya, I will tell you a story. At the end of it I will ask you a few questions. If you do not know the answer, I will remain your captive. On the other hand if you know the answer but keep quiet, your head will burst into pieces.

Vikram had handled this situation many times in the past. Being an intelligent King, he always knew the answer and the Vetal always escaped.

Veta started the story. “Long, long ago there were communal riots in a State. Around 1200 died during the riots. Surendar was the Chief Minister of the State at that time. This story happens 10 years after the riots.”

“Sir…today is the 10^th anniversary of the communal riots in the State when 1200 people were cruelly massacred under your Chief Ministership….Do you have any sense of remorse?” Pradeep was interviewing the Chief Minister at his residence.

Pradeep looked satisfied with his last and the most direct question. Audience will be obviously thrilled. He had been asking one tough question after another and 

Surendar, instead of his usual contemptuous style had been giving quite conciliatory replies.  This episode of ‘Face the Mass’, his prime time news program is going to be a TRP topper. The wrinkles in Surendar’s forehead convinced him that Surendar did not have any answer and that he was going to fumble.

Surendar looked straight into Pradeep’s eyes.  He remembered that Pradeep was a young reporter with India 365 Channel at that time. He was giving a minute-by-minute blow up of the riots. Standing in the riot affected areas, he was raising tough questions for the Chief Minister and the administration.

Surendar was just 6 months into the office and was too inexperienced to control the riots. Pradeep asked for Surendar’s interview. Surendar did not have answers to any of Pradeep’s or anyone else’s questions. He declined Pradeep’s request.

CNN and BBC picked up Pradeep’s footages and relayed. Overnight Surendar became a villain and Pradeep a hero.

Violence continued unabated for 3 days at the end of which 1200 people were dead.

Surendar contemplated for weeks on the core cause of the riots- Momentary anger could have triggered the violence. But how did it continue for 3 days?  There should be something deeper. One community felt that the other is privileged economically while the other perceived that the former controlled the poll outcomes and thereby held political clout. He concluded that the long term solution would be to improve the economy and make politics more transparent.

Pradeer accused him of complicity in the riots. Several NGOs picked up the same and filed cases against the Chief Minister and his government in the Court.

Surendar commenced a massive program to provide electricity to all the villages in the State.

Media encouraged police officers of the State to speak against Surendar. One or two of them promptly obliged and shot into limelight.

Surendar provided drinking water to all the villages.

An NGO took up the case of a girl whose family was killed in the riots. The alleged victim told the court that the NGO tutored her to give false evidence. Supreme Court indicted the NGO. Media alleged that Surendar Government had terrorized the victim to change her story.

Next Assembly elections were announced. Surendar started campaigning.

Pradeep conducted an opinion poll and concluded a total rout of Surendar’s Party. His opinion poll was well received by the viewers.

Surendar won the elections with 2/3^rd majority. Statistics revealed that both the communities voted for him. He then set about cementing the roads in all the villages of the State.

When the High Court of the State dismissed many of the cases against Surendar, Pradeep and the rest of the media alleged bias on the part of the Court and asked for transfer of cases to another State.

Surendar converted the State Highways into four lane highways.

Supreme Court appointed an Investigation Team to look into the complicity of Surendar in the riots. The Team found him innocent. Pradeep and the media questioned the credentials of the members of the Investigation Team.

Surendar invited business houses across the country and globe to invest in the State which they did in lakhs of crores of rupees.

Based on media reports, several foreign governments denied visa to Surendar. He could not travel to developed countries to solicit investments.

Surendar simplified the procedures for investment in the State. Land allotments for projects were made in record speed. A big business house which found it difficult to invest in a distant State shifted its project to Surendar’s State.

Forced to accept the fact that the State was growing fast, Pradeep and the rest of the media argued that economic development would not wash way the sin.

Surendar undertook reconciliation fasts in various parts of the State aimed at bringing both the communities further closer.

Pradeep promptly called it a publicity stunt aimed at gaining sympathy.

Surendar ensured that there was no communal riot in the State afterwards. His formula had worked- since the economic condition of almost all the communities improved, since corruption was weeded out, since politics became more transparent, both the communities did not indulge in violence. One of the countries which had denied visa to Surendar appreciated his governance!

Surendar was shaken out of his flashback by Pradeep’s reminder. “Sir….I am waiting for your response. Do you have any sense of remorse?”

“Pradeep…Let me tell you a short story. Once, a saint and his disciple were about to cross a river which was overflowing. There was a beautiful girl on the river bank waiting to cross the river. Since the river was deep, she requested the saint to carry her on his back. The saint obliged. The girl got down from his back on the other side of the river and the saint-disciple duo continued their journey. The disciple was quite disturbed. He could not digest that saint carried a girl on his back! Seeing his concern the saint enquired him as to what was bothering him. The disciple voiced his concern. The saint smiled and replied “I dropped her on the river bank but you are still carrying her in your heart.” Pradeep… do you get my….”

“So Mr Surendar….just as the saint carried her on his back….though for a short time….you agree you encouraged the mob….”

Surendar heaved a sigh.

“That’s the final nail, viewers….Chief Minister Surendar accepting his complicity in the massacre of 1200 people…..” Pradeep faced the camera and shouted at the top of his voice.

“Pradeep….,” called Surendar.

Pradeep turned back and was shocked to see a pistol in Surendar’s hand. “Oh…no…”

“1201..........”

Having concluded the story Vetal asked the inconvenient questions. “Oh King Vikramaditya….If Surendar worked on a long term solution and succeeded in ensuring that there was no communal riot, why did Pradeep not appreciate? Who was biased- Surendar against a particular community or Pradeep against Surendar? Was Surendar right in finally …….”

Vikram, being an intelligent and compassionate king, gave the right answers. Vetal climbed the tree.

PS: You are most welcome to differ from me, disagree with my views, call me biased, question my facts or dismiss this post as too simplistic, motivated. Of course you always have the pleasant option of concurring with me. 

Anything for you, Baby!

(Divya announced a Tell a Tale contest in her site. She gave the starting lines of a story. The readers were asked to complete the story. I was hesitant to participate; scared to take the challenge. Got some encouragement from her. The result is....)

Starting lines given by Divya:

“Coffeeee!! Teaa!!”
“Coffeeee!! Teaa!!”
The vendor called out as he passed the coupe.
“Thuddd!”
The baby fell on its knee trying to walk across to his mother.
The mother ran to pick up the child and is busy placating him.
Ravishing young lady sat across him checking her flock of hair in the mirror of her mini clutch bag.
The chatter from the group of young boys engrossed in a card game relayed from above.
The train had halted at Varnasi for 15 mins. He hadn’t moved or uttered a word from the time he got on.
The newspaper covered Sanjay’s face; his eyes peered through his bi-focal spectacles and his hair rested neatly combed sideways.
A pencil in his hand was losing his grip

This is how it proceeds...

15 more minutes for the train to start!

Sanjay was getting restless. The tea vendor winked at him as he passed the coupe. That was a signal- arrangements for his escape have been done. Sanjay dropped the pencil to indicate that he had done his job well.

His job?

He had placed his suitcase containing RDX beneath his seat and chained it. A small remote control device was waiting patiently in his pant pocket.

Once the train starts, he would disembark coolly and press the remote.

How else would Sanjay’s group teach a lesson to the opposition party? Just for winning the elections in UP, it had promised reservation for minorities. The party had to be taught a lesson.

What better place to teach the lesson than Varanasi!

10 more minutes!

Archana was looking into the mirror of her mini clutch bag and applying lipstick. ‘Beautiful! Dashing!’ She complimented herself.

But then reality sunk in.

‘Why are you doing this Archu? You’re going to die in the next half an hour. What’s the need for make up? Do you want tomorrow’s newspapers to describe you as ‘beautiful young lady’ while reporting your death?’

Tears rolled down her eyes.

‘Why did you do this to me, Rohan?’

After two years’ of relationship, Rohan ditched her to marry a girl of his parents’ choice. Reason? She was an orphan and that was not acceptable to his orthodox parents. She was pleading with his parents in the morning. Rohan remained a mute spectator. He did not utter a word in her support.

She felt something breaking inside her. Spineless, selfish Rohan! She walked out of his house. On the way to the railway station, she bought rat poison.

She had a good job; she was financially independent. But there was no desire to live.  

Why should she live? After the train starts she would go to the toilet and consume the rat poison. To be sure that no one tries to save her life she would jump out of the running train.

5 more minutes.

The three teenagers who were playing cards in the upper berth got down. They were college dropouts and members of a naxal group which operated from interior UP. While two of them walked towards the toilet, Puneet, the team leader stayed back.

Enough of fun.  Enough of trying to be casual. He was fuming. The UP government had arrested Ranjan, his leader the previous week .  Puneet was given the responsibility to secure Ranjan’s release.

After the train starts they would close all the doors and the pathways to the adjacent compartments. They would stop the train about 10 kms away from 

Varanasi. They had machine guns with them.  They would hold the passengers as hostages and start the negotiation with the government for the release of Ranjan.

With elections round the corner, the government would not dare to reject their demand.

4 more minutes. 

Sanjay  felt a soft hand touching his feet. He bent down to see the baby. He smiled and took it in his arms. He looked around for the baby’s mother. She was not to be seen. She was there a couple of minutes earlier.

Where did she go? 

He was getting restless.

3 more minutes.

He had to act. What to do with the baby?

“ha..ha…ha…..” The baby was playing with his moustache.

Innocent laughing face of the child! He forgot himself, his mission for a minute. Would his son Ajay be of the age of this baby? When did he see Ajay last? 3 months back? Would he be laughing like this baby? He felt some pain in stomach.

The baby pissed on his shirt.

He looked at Puneet who took the baby from his arm. Sanjay wiped his shirt with his kerchief.

2 more minutes.

When Puneet looked around for the child’s mother, he noticed a letter sticking out of the baby’s shirt pocket.

He looked at Archana who took the letter out and started reading aloud.

‘He is my baby. His father, my lover has deserted me. I have neither the will nor the resources to bring him up. I am ending my life. Whoever gets this letter, please take care of my son. Payal’

The baby circled his neck with his hands and kissed on his left cheek.

One more minute.

Vendors were getting out. Last minutes passengers were boarding.

‘If I take the passengers into hostage, I will take this baby also. Will it stand the prolonged negotiations with the government? Is Ranjan’s release worth it?’ thought Puneet.

‘If I blow up the train, will this baby also not die? If someone is irresponsible and reserves some seats for minorities, why should this baby die? Is it worth?’ doubted Sanjay.

‘I was wondering why I should live. I have found the reason. I do not want this child to be an orphan like me. I’ll bring him up,’ decided Archana.

All the three looked at one another.

They sat down in their respective seats.

The train started, so also a new chapter in their lives.


My Tags:
Bharathiraja
Krishnapriya