Sachin Singh

Drama Crime Others

4  

Sachin Singh

Drama Crime Others

Riot

Riot

7 mins
248


The rotten dead bodies on the streets seemed craving for a ceremonious cremation. Their body conditions exemplified their categorical affliction. Some were burnt to a great extent. Some were attacked with bullets, others were strangulated. Some were having varying wounds on their bodies from which the flow of blood had dried and was attracting flies, vultures and stray dogs. The city was burning under the fire of an unprecedented riot.


However a sane mind would get perplexed at the petty reason that fomented this fire. One fine morning, Ayesha a nineteen year old Muslim girl was found missing from her home. The blame went to Vishnukant, the son of Ramdin — a neighbouring washer-man. The gossip of the love story between Vishnukant and Ayesha, who attended the same college, had started spreading among the neighbouring families. But the same would provoke a massacre of this unparalleled range was never realised. As soon as the news of Ayesha’s missing reached a small band of young lads belonging to her community, and who eyed Ayesha’s growing beauty, got a chance to unleash their pent-up anger over the poor washer man’s family. 


Ramdin was abused, thrashed and beaten for disclosing the truth about their location. He pleaded his ignorance about the matter. Just then a short statured lad from among the band attacked him on the head with the bat with which Ramdin used to beat the clothes while washing. Ramdin held his head with both his hands and fell on the ground. After a momentary convulsion of the body he became still. The lads who did not intend to kill him, fled away from the scene. And this invited an impromptu battle that darkened the entire city. The incident incited the mind of some Hindu fanatics and they pledged to revenge the death of Ramdin. Ayesha’s father was dragged from his house and was thrown before the mob that had assembled to commiserate the death of Ramdin. The incited mob hit the old man till he was dead.


Female had no decisive say in this bloody game. In- fact they were like sacrificial goat at the altar of male chauvinism. Musa Mian, the fruit vendor, was declared the leader of Muslim community. Selling seasonal fruits at people’s door never gave him the sense of self-importance as leading the band of fanatics. He proved the most merciless among his community. While Kallu Naee, the community barber, was unanimously announced the leader of Hindu community. The parameter for leadership was based on the ability to chop a head quickly. The Ustarah used for shaving hairs was now mercilessly butchering their veins.


Kamla, the Nagarpalika street sweeper, was hiding in her mud-hut. There was dreadful silence outside. The silence was interrupted by intermittent barking of dogs. She was hungry. Since last two days there was nothing to eat at home and no water to drink. She rolled her tongue to sooth her parched throat. There was a small round void on the mud wall. It was beyond her reach. She dragged a wood-cot positioning it beside the wall. Standing on the wood-cot she tried to catch a glimpse of the outside, but in vain. She tried to pull a jute bag filled with paddy husk, but it was too heavy. With immense effort she pulled a jute bag and somehow placed it on the cot. It exhausted her and she felt like coughing, but the terror of being detected by the hooligans outside made her to press her hands against her mouth. She stood erect on the jute bag and this time succeeded in reaching the void on the mud wall.


She felt terrified at the scene outside. It was like an open graveyard. She almost screamed on seeing the dead body of Ratan, the schoolmaster, lying on the street. She looked for any food that could quieten her stomach. But nothing was there. However, she found the lull outside favourable to take a chance to venture outside. With stealthy steps she came out and rushed into the house of Ratan. She felt shocked to find the lifeless mutilated bodies of Ratan’s parents, brothers and sisters. But the tide of hunger kicking inside her stomach surpassed her shock. She opened a jar which contained pickles. She devoured the pickle. Her hunger having been satiated now, the smell of the corpses compelled her to leave the house. She took two tin cans containing some raw food and rushed towards her mud hut. She was on the middle of the street when a group of hooligans marching from north side detected her.


The blood inside her veins froze. Both the tin cans fell on the street. The hooligans ran towards her brandishing their guns and other weapons. The lecherous among them undressed her. She was made to lie on the street. One among them pulled her earrings. Blood splattered from the skin of her ears. She screamed with agony. Then she underwent a collective assault upon her dignity. They were almost twenty five individuals. She fainted at the merciless ordeal. After some hours she recaptured her sense. But this was a transient consciousness. Her eyes flickered with pain. The thought in her mind when she closed her eyes forever was that a man’s temperament is best judged during a riot.


Vishnukant and Ayesha had taken shelter in the house of a distant relative in a remote village far away from their native land. There was no means of communication at the place. The couple were totally unaware of the massacre that followed their elopement. They could not think beyond petty clashes and skirmishes triggered by their unpermitted act. The gruesome affliction of their parents, family members, hapless Kamla and the entire Hindu and Muslim community in the town were beyond their imagination. However, they were genuinely concerned about their parents whom they had unwillingly betrayed for the sake of their love.


“I am worried about my Amma. Who would be taking care of her? Who would be fetching her medicine?” Ayesha rued. "I am too worried about our families. But there was no other way than leaving our home. They are good people. But I don’t understand why they dislike our love. After all we are human being. What harm is there if we wish to marry each other? Is it a crime?” Vishnukant said.


“You know Vishnu, dreadful dreams disturb and haunt me in my sleep. I get an intuition that something is not going well at home,” Ayesha said.


It was almost three months later that they decided to return home. Unfazed by the consequence of their decision, both of them caught the evening train departing for the nearest station to their hometown. They were thinking about their home and how they would be treated by their family. It was morning time. The train halted at the station. Vishnukant and Ayesha came out of the train. They hired a tonga for their town which was almost two kilometres from the station. On the way they were stupefied by the ravaged and plundered sight of the houses lying alongside the narrow pitched road. As the tonga drew nearer the scene was turning more frightening. They were filled with certain premonition. Suspicious gazes followed the movement of the tonga. As the tonga entered their alley a hoarse voice instructed the rider to stop. Ayesha recognized the man. It was Maulvi Mazhar Ali.


Soon they got surrounded by a huge crowd. Then there was a dictating pronouncement by Pandit Radha Raman, the temple priest. The females and children comprising the crowd were ordered to leave the place and return to their houses. The remaining crowd turned to an impromptu Panchayat comprising of males from Hindu as well as Muslim community. The same Hindus and Muslims who were thirsty for each other’s blood were now united against a couple. The eyes of the people burned like fire. Maulvi Mazhar and Pandit Radha Raman sought the nod of the crowd to pronounce their judgement. The crowd complied in unison.


Vishnukant and Ayesha stood shocked looking downward at the bare ground, terrified at the terrorizing mood of the crowd, remorseful at their decision to return to the native land and thinking that love requires a great sacrifice, even a ruthless alienation from native land. Vishnukant tried opening his mouth when he was threatened by Pandit Radha Raman to shut his mouth. Six people from among the crowd were selected and ordered to punish them. They mercilessly made them naked under the wide gaze of impromptu Panchayat. People spat on their naked bodies. They cried and begged but to no avail. They were beaten by the foot of the berserk mob. The couple rolled on ground covered with wounds and blood. Finally, their breath ceased, forever.


The crowd rejoiced and clapped as if they had given a befitting punishment for the crime of daring to love out of their religion. The crowd seemed vindicated. Unfortunately there was no sane judge to deliver his impartial judgement over this brutality.



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