Lajja (22 page)

Kajol Debnath walked to the veranda as he spoke, probably to rein in his emotions.

‘Let’s go out and get some tea,’ he said as he came back in.

Suronjon decided to go out just the way he was. He hadn’t bathed or changed his clothes for the last few days, and he was not sure when he had last eaten. He threw off his quilt and jumped up, ready to go out.

‘Let’s go. I’ve been in bed so long that I feel stiff,’ he said.

Suronjon left his door unlocked. Why bother to lock it now? The terrible thing that could happen had happened, anyway.

‘Are you eating?’ Kajol Debnath asked.

‘Ma brings my meals to my room. I eat sometimes and at other times I don’t. I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel good,’ said Suronjon, running his fingers through his hair. He was not trying to make himself presentable but simply trying to lessen his pain.

‘Kajol da, wasn’t there less migration amongst Hindus in 1969 and ’70?’ asked Suronjon, going back to what they had been discussing.

‘In 1966 there was the Six Point Movement. The number of Hindus leaving the country went down from the People’s Uprising of 1969 and the elections of 1970 right till the Liberation War. Between 1955 to 1960, 1 million Hindus left. When the Liberation War began, nearly 10 million people took shelter in India and of them, almost 80 per cent were Hindus. When they returned after the war, the Hindus saw that their homes and properties had been usurped. Many left but some stayed back hoping that things would get sorted. They had hoped that an independent nation would ensure their security. In 1974, the Mujib government didn’t do very much except change the name of the Enemy Property Act. Communal people who had been opposed to the Liberation of Bangladesh were brought into power by Ziaur Rahman. He expunged secularism from the Constitution. And after this came Ershad with his movement for Islamic revivalism. On 22 December 1982 Ershad announced that henceforth Islam and the principles of the Koran would be the new basis of the Constitution of Bangladesh. Who had ever thought that even after the oppression in the name of religion for twenty-four years, religion would return so proudly into political life?’

They stopped at a tea shop.

‘You seem very distracted,’ said Kajol Debnath, looking Suronjon up and down. ‘You are asking questions about matters you well know. Why? You’re obviously very agitated. Calm down, Suronjon. How will we manage if a talented young man like you feels such despair?’

They sat a table facing each other.

‘Would you like something to eat?’ asked Kajol Debnath.

Suronjon nodded. Yes, he would like to eat something. He ate two
singaras
. Kajol Debnath ate some too and then asked for water.

Suronjon noted that Kajol used the Urdu ‘pani’ for water. At home, Debnath always said ‘jol’, the Bengali word for water. Did he say ‘pani’ at the tea shop because he had now got used to saying it? Or was it because he was scared? Suronjon wanted to know but desisted from asking. He thought that there were many people eyeing them suspiciously. He started drinking his tea fast. Was he afraid? Why was he so afraid now? He burnt his tongue as he hastily gulped the hot tea. There was a young man staring at them sharply from the next table; he sported a beard and wore a crochet skullcap. He was in his early twenties. Suronjon was almost certain that this man must have been part of the gang that took Maya away. Otherwise why was he listening so intently? Why was he so interested in them? Suronjon noticed that the young man was smiling to himself. Was he thinking ‘How are you now? We are playing some dreadful games with your sister!’

Suronjon was unable to finish his tea. ‘Kajol da, let’s go. I’m not feeling good.’

‘What’s the rush?’

‘I’m not feeling good.’

In 1954, there were 309 members in Parliament and of them, seventy-two were from minority communities. In 1970, of 300 members, eleven belonged to the minorities; in 1973 there were twelve from the minorities out of 315 members and in 1979, out of 330 members eight were from the minorities. In 1986, it was seven out of 330 members, in 1988 it was four, and in 1991 it was twelve out of 330 members. There were no brigadiers or major generals from any of the minorities in the Bangladesh army. Out of seventy colonels there was one from the minorities; there were eight lieutenant colonels out of a total of 450; forty out of 1000 majors; eight out of 1300 captains; three out of 900 second lieutenants; and 500 sepoys out of a total of 80,000. There were only 300 Hindus amongst 40,000 Bangladesh Rifles personnel; and only 2000 personnel belonging to the religious minorities in a police force of 80,000. No one from the minorities was there at the levels of additional inspector general or inspector general. The police had 870 officers and of them only fifty-three were from the minorities. People from the minorities were not appointed to high positions in the ministries of home, external affairs and defence, and neither were they found in senior positions in Bangladesh missions abroad. The secretariat presented a sorry picture too. There were no officers from the minority communities at the levels of additional secretary or secretary. There were three joint secretaries from the minorities out of a total of 134, of 463 deputy secretaries there were twenty-five from the minorities. In all the autonomous organizations combined there were 350 Grade I officers out of a total of 46,894 officers of the same grade. Not more than 5 per cent of the Grade I and II officers in the government and semi-government autonomous organizations were from the minorities. There was one amongst 152 in the department of customs and excise and eight out of 450 in income tax. In the public sector institutions 1 per cent of the officers belonged to the minorities: amongst other grades of staff they constituted 3 to 4 per cent and amongst workers less than 1 per cent. No bank, including the Bangladesh Bank, had a Hindu as director, chairman or managing director. In fact, none of the industrial banks had a Hindu as branch manager in any of its branches. In most cases, it was not possible to get a trade licence if there was no Muslim partner and it was a Hindu establishment. And such businesses did not get any loans from government-controlled banks or industrial institutions.

Suronjon did not get any sleep all night. Kironmoyee had come to his room once in the morning. She had probably wanted to ask about Maya and whether anything was likely to happen or if that day too would be another day without Maya. In the past few days, Kironmoyee seemed to have lost all signs of life. She had dark circles under her eyes; there was a pinched look on her face. She had stopped smiling. Suronjon had remained in bed, lax and limp, feigning sleep. He had not wanted Kironmoyee to know that he was devastated. Kironmoyee went into his room twice a day and left food for him on the table, silently. Sometimes this made Suronjon very angry. Was she made of stone? Her husband was crippled, her daughter lost, and her son, for all practical purposes, was not there, and yet she was uncomplaining. Kironmoyee had an odd, uncomplaining, emotionless, still existence—she seemed dead.

Suronjon decided that he was going to sleep all day. He needed to sleep. He had not slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes he felt like something terrifying was about to descend on him. It was as if scary hand-like apparitions were chasing him to strangle and suffocate him. There was no hope of finding comfort or peace.

Nonigopal came from Manikganj with his wife, son and daughter. He was distantly related to Sudhamoy. He was not in the least bit surprised to see the damage done to Sudhamoy’s home. ‘So they didn’t spare your home either?’ he asked.

Lolita, Nonigopal’s wife, had not only wiped the sindoor from her hair but had also covered her head. She clung to Kironmoyee’s hands, pressed them against her bosom and sobbed. Lolita’s daughter was there too and looked like she wished to disappear. Sudhamoy could not recall her name. She looked like she was the same age as Maya, or maybe even a year or two younger. Sudhamoy stared fixedly at the young woman and his eyes filled with tears. Maya was not there. It was very hard for him to accept that Maya was not there. He liked to think that she was there next door, or had gone to teach her pupils and would be back in the afternoon. All of them were hoping against hope that Maya would be back—even if she had been raped, tortured and badly hurt.

‘We cannot carry on living in this country, Dada. Our daughter has grown up and we live in dread of something horrible happening to her.’

‘Please don’t talk to me about leaving,’ said Sudhamoy, turning away from Nonigopal’s daughter. ‘I hear that Goutom’s family next door is moving too. What are all of you up to? Everyone is leaving at the drop of a hat! Don’t they have vandals and thugs where you’re escaping to? Is there nothing to fear over there? There are fears about women’s safety everywhere in the world. All of you think that the grass is greener on the other side.’

Nonigopal was wearing kurta pyjama and his face was covered with stubble. He sat quietly with his head between his hands. Lolita sobbed with anxiety and apprehension. Kironmoyee could hear Lolita’s sobs and she sat there unmoving, like she had turned to stone. She could not bring herself to tell them that Maya had been abducted and that she had not yet come back.

Nonigopal had a timber business. It had been burnt down. He was not as disturbed by that as he was terrified about his daughter, Anjoli. What if they took her away!

‘Dada,’ he said to Sudhamoy. ‘Lolita has a relative who lives in Chandpur in Feni. They took him away because they wanted his property. Finally, they killed him. Don’t you know that they took away Miko, the fourteen-year-old daughter of Ashwini Kumar Chondro and raped her? The girl died later. They abducted Nondita Rani Heera, the daughter of Horendronath Heera of Bedgram in Gopalganj. Young Muslim men of Banchharampur village grabbed and raped Korunabala, the daughter of Khitish Chondro Debnath. Tondra Rani, the daughter of Shobha Rani of Kalinath Bazar in Bhola was also abducted and raped. Abdul Qayum, a trader in human beings, took away Mukti Rani, the daughter of Sudhir Chondro Das, from Adalotpara in Tangail. The daughter of Purno Chondro Barman of Bhaluka was also forcibly taken away. They also made off with Joyonti Rani, the daughter of Tinkori Saha of Taraganj in Rongpur. Haven’t you heard about these things?’

‘When did all this happen?’ asked Sudhamoy in a tired voice.

‘In 1989,’ said Nonigopal.

‘You’ve memorized all this stuff? These events took place some time ago.’

‘Can one forget these things?’

‘Don’t you have any news about Poribanu, Anwara, Manowara, Sufia, Sultana and many such women? They are also tortured and raped.’

‘I heard about your illness,’ Nonigopal said after some time. ‘We couldn’t come to visit because we were caught up in our own worries. However, I thought we must see you before we leave. We will reach Benapol tonight. We were not able to sell our home and things. I have asked a cousin of Lolita’s to sell off our property whenever possible.’

Sudhamoy realized that he would not be able to make Nonigopal change his mind. He found it difficult to understand why people left. Did they gain anything? Oppression of Hindus in this country would only increase if their numbers dwindled. Who would benefit—those who left or those who stayed back? Sudhamoy assumed that no one would gain and all would lose; the poor would lose and so would the minorities. Sudhamoy was keen to find out exactly how many Hindus in Bangladesh would have to die so that they could conclusively say that they had atoned for the wrong-doings of all the militant Hindus of India—those of the past, present and future. If he had a definite answer, he would gladly kill himself. He would also ask many others to kill themselves. He would do it if it helped the Hindus who remained.

Aleya Begum, Shafiq Ahmed’s wife, came to visit in the afternoon. She used to be a regular visitor in the past. Many people, who were frequent visitors earlier, had stopped coming. Hyder’s parents no longer came. Sudhamoy began to understand that Kironmoyee felt lonely. She was a bit surprised when Aleya Begum arrived. It was as if she no longer expected people to visit them. Their home had almost become like an abandoned house. Sudhamoy saw Aleya Begum’s smile, her dazzling sari and bright jewellery and wondered whether Kironmoyee felt herself dull in comparison. He had perhaps been rather unfair to Kironmoyee all these years. He had brought a woman from an affluent, educated and cultured family into a poor family without a future and had also deprived her sexually. Sudhamoy had been focused on his own needs; had he not been so, he would have asked Kironmoyee to marry again. Would Kironmoyee have left if he had said so? Deep within herself, did she not desire a bright life like Aleya Begum’s? She may have left. You can never tell what goes on in a person’s mind. Fearing that she might leave, Sudhamoy had clung to Kironmoyee as much as possible. He had hardly ever asked friends home.

‘Sudhamoy, you became friendless by design,’ he told himself candidly as he lay on his sickbed. ‘You were afraid that if your friends milled around, Kironmoyee might find herself a virile man.’

Sudhamoy’s love for Kironmoyee had an intensity born of selfishness. He wanted her to feel that she must not leave such love behind. Can love alone fulfil a person? Now, after so long, Sudhamoy felt that love alone was not enough, there were other necessities.

Aleya Begum made the right noises as she surveyed the broken things in the room, understood that Sudhamoy’s limbs were paralysed and learnt the details of Maya’s abduction.

‘Boudi, don’t you have any relatives in India?’ she finally asked.

‘I do, most of my family is there.’

‘So why do you remain here?’

‘Because this is my country.’

Aleya Begum appeared taken aback by Kironmoyee’s statement. It was almost as if this was the first time that she realized that this was Kironmoyee’s land too. Aleya was probably wondering if Kironmoyee could rightfully claim this as her land and country. Sudhamoy realized that Aleya’s and Kironmoyee’s situations were not similar. A fine difference had been created between them.