It was during October or November 1998. I was posted as Sub Divisional Magistrate (In the then days the post was called Sub Divisional Officer- SDO) in one of the most extremist infested subdivision. The extremists had completely metamorphosed the psyche of people. Immediately after the sunset, all shops and all organizations used to shut their doors. Nobody usually could be found in the street, the streets looked abandoned and deserted. I used to stay alone in the Government quarters. My son and wife had come to me during the Durga puja vacation of my son. It was about 11 of night. We three were gossiping after taking dinner and I was enjoying their every tits and bits. Suddenly we heard some hue and cry and unmistakably some gun shots. We came to the balcony and found that a para – hardly 3 kilometers away from my quarters have been set on fire and the alarming hue and cry of people were coming from that para. I tried to call the Police Station and to my horror I found that the phone was dead supposedly due to the cyclonic storm held an hour or so back. Now going to the police station and arranging the police party would at least rob away half an hour of precious time. At the same time, it would be extremely unwise of me to go that para unarmed and without police cover. But at the same time I couldn’t shy away from my duty too. It is the duty of the SDOs to maintain law and order. I ordered the driver to proceed to that para. But unbeknownst to myself, my only son Suddha has also alighted the Maruti Zipsy and I noticed him on the midway in the backseat of the vehicle sitting silently. And there was no time to drop him at the quarters. I was scolding him and at the same time I was appreciating his courage. He was then a boy of 14. But as we were approaching, the driver became totally nervous. He was not being able to control the vehicle. He went berserk to be dropped. Then my son- a boy of 14- took the steering wheel and drove fearlessly to the spot. The driver went to the backseat. He was in no way to be blamed. This extremist problem had changed the psyche of everyone. And he was a victim of fear psychosis! Now, when we reached the para, someone hit the zypsy by a bamboo pole. Somehow, we alighted from the vehicle. What we saw was almost complete destruction, most of the houses had been torched and reduced to ashes. Two dead bodies- shot dead by extremists - were lying on the ground in pool of blood! Seeing me, the face of administration, the people were about to lynch me. They were hurling choicest abusive languages towards me at the top of their voices, some were crying. I realized that I have done the worst blunder in my life- our lives were at stake. I was also shouting at the top of my voice to restrain the folks and were trying desperately to bring them to their senses. But the two dead bodies were staring at their face. They had gone amok! The administration which was responsible to save them has failed miserably and I was that part of administration. Why should they not blame me, beat me and lynch me? But fortunately almost all the villagers knew me personally- I have frequented this village number of times and therefore, they most reluctantly spared me. But after sometime I saw that a group of villagers with their hand made arsenals were rushing toward a nearby tribal para to avenge the deaths and lootings. I literally ran and stood in front of them and tried to prevent them. It was a battle of nerves and ultimately I won. A village was saved from possible ransack and even from probable causalities. Now in the twilight hours of my life I now, ponder as to why I had undertaken that risk which would have cost the lives of three persons- my only son, the driver and myself! Nobody had called me. I could have remain shut in my quarters and slept a somewhat disturbed sleep. Nobody would have blamed me. But for the rest of my life I would have remained answerable to my conscience – that bloody conscience!!!
Posted on: Thu, 22 Jan 2015 07:08:42 +0000
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