Ashok Kumar Dash
“Mera
naam Dr. Rama Rao, double M.A., PhD…”
Singing thus to the accompaniment of
a tabor and a pipe, Rama Rao started whirling and whirling. And Sukanto was
transported light-years away in spacelessness….
************
“Stop”,
said Sukanto to the driver. The car came to a halt.
A few
yards ahead flowed the river Chanchala.
Sukanto
looked at his watch. It was 4:00 am. Not before another two hours would a soul
be here for morning walk, especially in the cold of this winter. Mr. Rohit
Kulkarni, CMD generally comes between 5:30 am to 6:00 am. Sukanto felt his
waistcoat pocket. The revolver was lying there intact. Before moving out on his
mission Sukanto had ensured that the revolver was loaded in full. “It is today or
never”- Sukanto had taken the final call.
Sukanto
felt drowsy. Why not take a nap? He closed his eyes. Kalicharan, the driver,
was snoring in his seat.
Time
flew back.
************
Gopalpur.
A sleepy mining town. Yes, here was Sukanto born. His father was the Head Clerk
in the Mining Division of Narayani Iron Ore Mines Ltd. situated over there. The
family lived in the company’s quarters in Babu Lines. ‘Babus’ meant ‘Clerks’.
Hence all the quarters were allotted to ‘Clerks’ only.
Call
it his bad luck or good luck, Sukanto grew up at Gopalpur. Bad luck because it
was an obscure small town devoid of standard civic amenities. Good luck because
he was brought up in the lap of nature and tranquility.
1962.
Sukanto
was a school student then, studying in Class VIII. It was a morning school.
Coming back from school, Sukanto had ample time at home.
Afternoons
were long, particularly in summer. He would sit on a charpoyon the
verandah, doing his studies. Adjacent to the verandah, in a room, mom would be
chatting with a few ladies of the mohalla. Good pastime to idle away the
lazy afternoons. She would occasionally be calling out, “Babu, arn’t you
reading, eh? Don’t waste your time. Dad will be annoyed.”
“Okay,
mom”, he would briefly reply.
But
his eyes and ears would be keenly waiting for the usual sights and sounds. He
would frequently be lifting his eyes from the books and looking at the lane
passing through the mohalla to have the glimpses of the familiar faces.
Someday
it would be Sunita Masi, the fisherwoman, carrying a medium-size cane
basket full of fishes calling out, “Didi, o didimaachlibeyki go?
Tatkaanyechilodir lay.” (Didi, o didi won’t you have fish? Fresh from the
river.)
Sometimes
it would be a bioscopewala, a bangle-seller, a candyfloss vendor and the
like.
But
one day appeared a strange man. He had flowing beards, long hairs, and untidy
clothes. He looked like a lunatic. He was carrying a tabor hanging from a belt
flung across his shoulder and dangling at his left hip. He had also a pipe in
his hand.
There
was a cemented chabootara (platform) opposite Sukanto’s house. It was
built for occasional performance of jatra (folk-theatre) by amateur
artists of the mohalla and evening adda by the seniors.
The
man ascended the chabootara and with a whirling motion started singing “Mera
naamDr. Rama Rao, double M.A., PhD…” to the accompaniment of his tabor and
pipe.
After
having done with, Rama Rao took a break to regain his composure. When he caught
Sukanto’s sight, he started inching towards him (Sukanto). Sukanto felt
nervous. What was the man upto? Closer and closer he came and Sukanto was
stupefied. With arms wide open the man looked straight into his eyes and said,
“Oh, Raja, my son! I knew you would come back. No power on earth can snatch you
from me, let alone abduct and murder you.”
He
tried to hug Sukanto but the latter retracted and said, “No, no, you are
mistaken. I am neither Raja nor your son. I am Sukanto and Dipankar Roy is my
father.”
“Okay,
never mind. I mean no harm to you. From today you are my son too. I’ll call you
by name Raja.” said Rama Rao.
He
smiled at Sukanto. Sukanto’s stupor started thawing out. He mustered courage
and asked,
“Where
are you coming from, Sir?”
“Nowhere.”
“Where
are you heading for?”
“Nowhere.”
“Where
do you live in?”
“Everywhere.”
“O,
you speak strange things!”
“Not
strange, but sensible. Bye, see you again.”
Turning
his back Rama Rao went his way. Sukanto watched him in awe and wonder till the
figure receded and finally disappeared.
1964.
Sukanto
was in Class X. His father taught him Algebra. It was a Sunday morning. For his
friends it was a fun day but for him it was a ‘gun day’. His father taught him
at gunpoint.
“Babu”,
his father said, “I will be back from market in an hour. Solve these five sums
on ‘equation’. I’ll check on return. Failing, you had it.”
He
was back exactly on time. “Have you solved your sums?”, he asked Sukanto.
“No
papa, I’m trying.”
“Damn
with your trying. You idiot! Bring your ‘ass-cap’, be quick”, he shouted.
Shivering
in fear of getting beaten Sukanto brought the ‘ass-cap’. His father snatched
the cap from Sukanto and put it on the latter’s head. The cap read in bold
letters ‘I AM AN ASS’. He made Sukanto stand by the roadside for an hour. The
passers-bylooked at Sukanto, laughed at him, and some of them jeered at him. He
felt like dying of humiliation. What was more, he felt crippled from within
beyond redemption.
That
afternoon nobody was there in Sukanto’s house. He sat alone on the verandah
doing his assignments. Unable to concentrate, he was looking at an obese man
moving to and fro monotonously in the lane. Up in the sky a lone crane was
flying mutely towards a destination unknown. All of a sudden, the familiar song
came floating in the air:
“Mera naam Dr. Rama Rao, double M.A., PhD…”
Soon
afterwards Rama Rao was standing outside the gate of Sukanto’s house. “May I
come in Raja?”, he asked.
Since
he had struck a chord of kinship somewhere in Sukanto’s heart, the latter had
now no hesitation calling him in. “Do come in please”, Sukanto answered.
Rama
Rao sat at one end of Sukanto’s charpoy and aksed, “What are you doing?”
“Trying
to solve a few sums on equation”
“Solved?”
“No,
I find it quite difficult.”
“May
I help you?”
“My
pleasure.”
He
then explained the nuances of equation and its thumb rules to Sukanto. He also
gave Sukanto some tips which he might like to apply. “Remember, nothing is
impossible”, he said. He left promising to come some other day.
Months
passed.
Sukanto
had a classmate named Bappa. He was a bit of a bully. One day returning home
from school, he blocked Sukanto’s road. Closer and closer he came and lit a
cigarette. He started releasing puffs of smoke on Sukanto’s face.
“Keep
off”, Sukanto retorted, “I can’t withstand smoke.”
“How
dare you order me?” asked Bappa and started thrashing Sukanto with kicks and
blows.
Sukanto
was howling in pain. Just at that moment Rama Rao appeared (God knows from
where?) and rescued Sukanto from the clutches of Bappa, slapped him left and
right and made him apologise to Sukanto. “Should you ever dare to touch him,
I’ll play hell with you. Now get lost from here”, he threatened Bappa.
Bappa
took to his heels. After he had gone, Rama Rao asked Sukanto, “Now tell me
Raja, why didn’t you retaliate?”
“I
simply can’t. I detest violence.” Sukanto replied.
“It’s
not your magnanimity but sheer cowardice. If you can’t stand against the wrong
you are a coward, nay, a hijra (eunuch). And God will never forgive you.
Remember Tagore’s words:
He
who commits wrong or condones the same, May Your contempt singe like a reed in flame.”
Then he left.
Time
passed.
After
doing his matriculation, Sukanto moved to Calcutta (now Kolkata) for his higher
studies. All these years he had practically no contact with Rama Rao.
But
once when Sukanto came to his hometown during Pujas he had a chance meeting
with Rama Rao. He had grown old. They sat hours together on the riverbank
watching the river Chanchala babbling by. Sukanto broke the silence, “Dr. Rao,
you are highly qualified. If you don’t mind, may I know what do you do?”
“I
teach”, replied Rama Rao.
“Wow!
That’s great. Which college?”
“All
the world’s my college.”
“Which
subject do you teach?”
“Eliminology.”
“I
haven’t heard of this subject.”
“It’s
the science of weeding out unwanted, unruly, and vicious elements from the
earth.”
“Your
words are very puzzling. I can’t understand. By the way, will you be available
here next year during Pujas?”
“I
can’t promise. I am ageing. And at my age, you can never tell. But never mind.
Even if I am not there my spirit will be alive. Call me anytime, if need be,
and my spirit will start working for you. Adieu.”
And
Rama Rao disappeared.
Sukanto
graduated with distinction in Sociology (Honours) followed by MBA in Human
Resources Management.
1977.
Sukanto
joined NarayaniIron Ore Mines Ltd. as an Executive Trainee (HR) and served for
30 long years in different positions. His father had since been retired.
Sukanto saw many ups and downs in the Company’s life and his own service
career. Although he worked for 30 years, his career growth was very tardy. He
rose up to the rank of Chief Manager (HR) only. As he did not compromise with
the vested interests of the Company, he was not in the good book of the
Management either. He was wrongfully superseded by his juniors. His innovative
ideas were projected by his HOD as his own for his meteoric rise.
A
turning point in his life came when the company decided to close down the mines
in a phased manner because of high cost of production and low turnover. The
poor employees were targeted on various grounds such as age, length of
services, medical unfitness and the like and counselled for voluntary retirement
(VR).
An
urgent meeting of all the HODs was called by Mr. Kulkarni, GM. In the meeting
he communicated the Management’s decision to serve the targeted employees with
notice to opt for VR failing which their services would be terminated,
electricity and water supply to their quarters would be discontinued and they
would be finally evicted from the Company’s quarters. Sukanto was instructed to
take follow-up actions immediately.
Sukanto
was in a fix. He had a long association of above fifty years with the people of
Gopalpur who formed the major chunk of the workforce of the Iron Ore Mines.
They were, as it were, the part and parcel of his own family. How could he be
rude enough to throw these people, with whom he has grown up, out of their
employment and shelter and let their families come on the street and starve? It
would be grossly inhuman and sinful. What a predicament!
Sukanto
mustered up the courage and pleaded not to proceed with such a harsh action on
humanitarian ground and instead suggested, “Sir, can we not think of some
alternative measures such as technological innovations, diversification,
modernisation etc. for the Company’s survival?”
Frowning
at him Mr. Kulkarni, GM said, “You blockhead, you deadwood, you
good-for-nothing, do you think the Management are a fool? Mind you, we mean business,
not charity. Either you do as directed or go on long leave.” All present
were chuckling.
The
next day Sukanto tendered his resignation.
All
his efforts to get a new job went in vain but his daughter Soma, a fresh MBA,
got a job in an MNC in Bengaluru. From Gopalpur they shifted to Bengaluru. Life
was back on track.
Man
proposes, God disposes. Sukanto never knew that destiny had another severe blow
in store for him.
Even
one year had not yet passed when one day Soma told him that she would be a bit
late returning home as she had to attend a party thrown by her boss on his
promotion. But when she did not return till 11:00 pm Sukanto called her up but
her mobile was switched off. He called up her boss but no response. He got
panicky and restless. He lodged an FIR with the Police Station. The police
swung into action and the next day recovered her dead body lying at a forlorn
corner by the roadside at Marathahalli.
The
police arrested the boss. The incident was reported in the newspaper. From the
photograph of the boss published in the newspaper along with the report,
Sukanto found to his utter dismay and anger that he was the same Rohit Kulkarni
who was once his G.M. at Narayani Iron Ore Mines Ltd.
The
post-mortem report revealed that it was a case of brutal rape and murder. Her
mouth was gagged, she was brutally raped and strangled to death.
To
think of the utter helplessness and ordeal of his daughter and the heinous
brutality perpetrated on her by the boss before she succumbed, Sukanto
convulsed in a terrible rage from within.
Sukanto lost the legal battle for
lack of ‘sufficient’, ‘corroborative’ and ‘conclusive’ evidences to prove the
charges, levelled against Mr. Kulkarni, beyond doubt. Mr. Kulkarni was therefore
acquitted of all the charges by the honourable Court of Law.
But Sukanto knew the truth. He knew
he owed to his daughter the solemn responsibility to mete out justice to her.
Else her departed soul would never rest in peace. He had therefore taken the
final call.
He had so long been searching for an
opportune moment. He came to know that Mr. Kulkarni had again been hired by the
Narayani Iron Ore Mines as CMD.
Sukanto left Bengaluru and came back
to his own house at Bhavnagar some seven kilometers away from Gopalpur. He had
been tracking Mr. Kulkarni’s movements very closely for last one month. He had
observed that Mr. Kulkarni took a morning stroll accompanied by his Alsatian
along the bank of river Chanchala everyday early in the morning between 5.30
a.m. to 6.00 a.m.
************
Sukanto
looked at his watch. It was 5.45 a.m. The driver Kalu was fast asleep. By
sliding down the window glass Sukanto peeped out. There was an absolute calm
outside barring the babbling of the river and occasional whinnings of some
stray dogs. Although it was foggy, Sukanto could very well see a figure
strolling with his Alsatian leisurely. Now it was coming nearer and nearer.
Yes, his face was now visible. It was Mr. Kulkarni. Sukanto whisked the
revolver from his waistcoat poket and targeted Mr. Kulkarni. Now he was well
within range. He gripped the trigger with his forefinger. But before he could
give it a pull a strange numbness overpowered him. He felt an uncontrollable
dizziness in his head. Exactly at that moment he heard the song floating in ‘Mera
naam Dr. Rama Rao…’ He heard Rama Rao calling him, “Hey Raja, why delay?
Shoot that brute right now.”
By
now Sukanto was almost at the point of disintegration. He was once again caught
between two opposing pulls- to kill or not to kill- each vying to outdo the
other with all its might. He felt a terrible ache in his head as if it would
burst away. Unable to bear the pain any longer he turned the revolver towards
him and pulled the trigger to shoot himself instead.
A big
thud and a shrill scream rent the morning air.
************
With
a big jerk Sukanto got up in his bed. His throat had dried up. He was gasping.
Randomly he groped his body and felt his breath to be sure he was alive. He
fumbled for a glass of water.
Raghu,
the domestic help, was holding him and standing by his side. He gave Sukanto a
glass of water which he gulped.
“What
happened to you, Babu? Why did you scream in your sleep? Did you see some bad
dream?” Raghu asked.
“Yes
Raghu. It was a nightmare.”
“Never
mind, Babu. Dreams are all unreal. It is almost 7.00 a.m. now. Please freshen
yourself up. I’m bringing morning tea for you.”
Raghu
left the room and within no time re-entered with a cup of steaming tea and the
day’s newspaper.
Sitting
in his armchair Sukanto started leafing through the newspaper. Coming to the
‘Region’ page he was startled. The headline read:
ROHIT
KULKARNI, CMD, NARAYANI IRON ORE MINES, SHOT AT. SUCCUMBS.
Ashok Kumar Dash retired from a high rank in HR Department, Hindustan Copper Limited (A Govt. of India Enterprise) and was attracted towards his first love ‘teaching’ once again. Presently a faculty in the Dept. Of English, Karim City College, Jamshedpur, Prof. Dash has a passion towards literatures in Bengali, Odia, and English.
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