Tit For Tat |
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The first thing we do,
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THE LAW courts were not doing much business. Matters relating to the criminal aspects of life and death were being handled summarily by the martial law authorities, with little fuss and profit for the lawyers. These black-robed figures, that flapped around the corridors and verandahs of justice like day-time vampires, were mostly idle. Indeed, some of them were hiding in their villages, afraid lest their association with dubious politics in the past should rise phantom-like and place their lives in jeopardy. They began to understand and appreciate a very important political dictum: Thou shalt adhere to the right party! Mr abdul Majeed Talukdar, a prominent lawyer of the town, had always posed as a champion of the poor and under-privileged. He had never failed to assure his clients that he would do everything in his power to extricate them from their legal difficulties, and he had never failed to exact his fees promptly. The cases he lost he put down to lack of perception on the part of the presiding magistrates or judges. Those he won were proclaimed well-deserved trophies, marking his brilliant powers of advocacy. Mr Talukdar had fled with his wife to a nearby village. It was not his 'own' village, because he was a town man, and moreover his father had been a noted lawyer in Calcutta, and had emigrated in 1948 after Independence. He therefore had no roots in the soil of East Pakistan, and only by the skin of his teeth was he not considered an outright alien! and he had other problems as well. In politics he had always supported the reactionary Muslim League, and although this stood in his favour with the martial law regime, it was not something which enhanced his position with Bangladesh sympathizers. Poor Mr Talukdar! The village where he and his wife had sought sanctuary was as uneasy as most villages terrorized by the army. The people were afraid, both of the soldiers, and of the Freedom Fighters, who sometimes passed through, demanding food and shelter. The policy of reprisals had been made perfectly clear to the villagers on one terrifying occasion, when five of them had been shot after a bomb had blown up a truck, containing a dozen jawans and a junior officer. The people, by and large, were not really involved in this civil war - they had other important matters to engage their minds. For example, general trade was practically at a standstill. Communications were bad, the roads dangerous, Bullock-carts were often blown up by mines. The rivers were being patrolled in search of rebels using countryboats. The people were really having a tough time. Mr Talukdar and his wife were lodged in the house of the Union Chairman, Al-haj Ibrahim Mullah Mondal, the most influential elected man of the village. He was a crafty old card, who had survived many a political storm. This civil war to him was just another crisis, only more violent than those of the 'good old days'. Mr Talukdar and the Chairman disagreed about a number of things, one of which was the Peace Committee. These bodies had been set up by the military regime in order to generate in the people patriotic feelings for Pakistan. The members were tutored to regard all those who sympathized with the Bangladesh cause as enemies of the state, of society, and of Islam. It was up to the members to keep the people on edge against the rebels and their supporters, to act as informers, and hold themselves in readiness to obey the orders of the army at all times. These persons ultimately became targets of the Freedom Fighters, and were sometimes sent letters of warning in red ink (Symbolic of blood) to prepare themselves for execution, after the Independence War was won. Later, they were to be branded and victimised as pro-Pakistan "collaborators". But all they were really doing was collaborating with reality, in order to survive. Mr Talukdar had declined to join the village Peace Committee, on the grounds that he belonged to the town, and was not therefore eligible. The Chairman felt strongly about this, because he was heavily involved with the army, especially through a contract for repairing a road and several culverts, which had suffered from neglect in the past. He also felt that Mr Talukdar's reluctance to join the Committee was compromising him in sensitive quarters. Captain Ejaz had more than once asked the Chairman why his guest was not to be seen at Committee meetings. As we have observed, Mr Talukdar was shrewd and self- centered. He had considered the outcome of the civil war with a detached mind, arguing the case for both sides. As he saw it, if the army won, they would hardly bother with him, and he could always produce his Muslim League past as a passport to safety. But if the other side won, he would be in a fix. All his envious rivals would point an accusing finger, and he would find it very tricky to neutralise their professional jealousy. In view of the lawyer's aloofness, which was becoming more than embarrassing, the Chairman had considered packing him off to the town as soon as decency permitted. He finally had to do so. But the wife was invited to remain. Upon his return, Mr Talukdar found the town much changed since the day he had precipitately fled, with a few essentials, and a cherished copy of the Holy Koran. Soldiers lounged all over the place, and the atmosphere was hushed. People went about their business with a solemn air, and the streets were agreeably clean, the slow movement of the cycle-rickshaws more orderly. The Beharis had taken over most of the shops abandoned by Bengalee owners, who were scattered all over the countryside. Upon reaching the small red-brick house, which had so recently been his home, Mr Talukdar was surprised to find it still standing intact. Reports had reached the village that army jawans had burnt down all the Bengalee-owned houses, and this was partly true - especially those belonging to Hindus. This vandalism had soon been regretted, as all such spontaneous and senseless acts of destruction usually are. Timidly, Mr Talukdar walked up the steps of the verandah, and Seraj Mia was there to greet him. "Ukil* Sahib! Welcome home! Where have you been? I was much concerned about you. I was alarmed that you should have run away, so I moved in here to save your house. Mine was looted by political hooligans when the troubles started. Come on in!" By and by Mr Talukdar was comfortably seated in his favourite chair, sipping tea, and gratefully smoking a decent cigarette. "Things are improving every day," Seraj Mia said. "The army is working hard to restore law and order, and run the business of government. Most of the clerks have returned, and even the Municipality people are working in earnest. Isn't the town wearing a new look? So you must settle down here, and regard this as your home again. Of course, I cannot go anywhere else for the time being, that you will appreciate. But anything I can do to help I shall. What about money?" And so, one by one, Mr Talukdar's problems were taken up and dealt with. he was given a bed in his erstwhile chamber, and he began to think about resuming his former professional life. Seraj Mia was a Behari, who owned a clothshop, a pharmacy, and, in partnership with a Bengalee, a brick factory. He immediately gave Mr Talukdar a commission to have the latter declared abandoned property, thus leaving him sole proprietor. This was to be a complicated case, because the Bengalee partner was a cousin of Al-haj Ibrahim Mullah Mondal! On the day of the hearing. Mr Talukdar and his client appeared before the District Officer, Mr Khan. Now although the common law of the country was in theory operative, martial law was virtually supreme, and many cases, which would have taken years to decide, were summarily dealt with by the civil administration, drawing upon martial law regulations. In fact the District Officer could decide the fate of any case, circumventing unnecessary wastage of time, but not, it was hoped, at the cost of justice. As a temporary measure it did not work at all badly. This speedy disposal of cases meant a loss of revenue to the lawyers, who were accustomed to preying mercilessly on the litigants, mostly poor and illiterate farmers. In collusion with their colleagues on the opposite side, they could (and often did) prolong a disputed property case for years, which also bred corruption amongst the court clerks, and other beneficiaries of this deplorable abuse of law and justice. Mr Talukdar presented his case with eloquence and force. The Bengalee partner was not represented, as he did not know anything about it, and so the case was steered by Mr Talukdar towards an ex parte decree. But as this was the first case of its kind that he was considering, Mr Khan decided upon a further hearing, and impressed upon Mr Talukdar the need for the other party at least to be represented . Reluctantly, in spite of muttered protests from Seraj Mia, Mr Talukdar agreed to this legal decorum. On the subsequent hearing, the other party was indeed represented, in the person of Al-haj Ibrahim himself, armed with a power of attorney. He glared at Mr Talukdar, who had outraged his hospitality by taking the side of Seraj Mia. He also had in town a renowned and formidable lawyer. Mr Talukdar's adversary was an old hand, who did not fear the Haji, and had no reason to fear the martial law authorities either. He dismissed the whole affair as a conspiracy to rob his client of his rightful share in the ownership of the brick factory, and would say no more. The court could do as it pleased. Any attempt to argue the case would be ludicrous. Seeing the point of this, Mr Khan issued an injunction; restraining both parties from working the factory, and sent the file to the Martial Law Administrator, suggesting that a Receiver be appointed. Then the fun really began! Al-haj Ibrahim exerted influence, and spread false and alarming rumours about Seraj Mia. Knowing that the martial law authorities were eager and determined to establish their bona fides with the Bengalee population, Seraj Mia was painted as a Bengalee-baiter, a Bengalee-hater, and a Bengalee-killer! In retaliation, Seraj Mia sent informers to the Brigade Commander, to feed him stories that the Bengalee partner had all along been a supporter of the Bangladesh cause, was a distant relative of Sheikh Mujib, and was obviously hiding because he feared exposure. The Commander was thoroughly fed up with the whole affair. He confidentially instructed Mr Khan to dismiss the case, and leave it to the parties concerned to sort it all out amongst themselves. Therefore no Receiver was appointed, and Mr Talukdar was accused by Seraj Mia of having made a mess of the whole affair. No sooner had he finished delivering an ultimatum to Mr Talukdar immediately to find alternative accommodation, than Mrs Talukdar arrived, escorted by a young member of the Haji's household. "Welcome, welcome, sister?" said Seraj Mia, as the lady threw a withering glance at her cowering husband. "You are just in time to take your husband away from here. I have done my best for him, but when I asked him to handle a simple case, to protect me from a cheat, he made a mess of it! But come and sit down." Mrs Talukdar, dabbing occasionally at her eyes with a corner of her saree, demonstrated a forceful style of pleading, and Seraj Mia, who knew he must relent in the end, agreed that the lawyer and his wife may share the old legal chamber, and an adjoining room. But they must arrange for their own food, and in no way intrude on the rest of the household, except to use the bathroom and latrine. Thus husband and wife settled down to a cramped existence, and the months passed slowly. Mr Talukdar, wholes services weren't in particularly great demand, managed to obtain an occasional brief, in fact anything that came his way, in order 'to keep his hand in,' and Mrs Talukdar began knitting for an orphanage, as winter approached. But Mr Talukdar was not totally forgotten. It turned out much later that the cousin of Al-haj Ibrahim was indeed a Bangladesh sympathiser, and had all along been in touch with the Freedom Fighters! In due course, Mr Talukdar received a letter in red ink, alerting him to prepare for his day of reckoning. Shortly after the Indian army entered the town, accompanied by jubilant mobs yelling JOY BANGLA (Victory to Bangladesh), Mr Talukdar, in full possession of his house again, Seraj Mia having in his turn fled, was dragged into the street by an excited youth, and shot to pieces with a light machine-gun. Poor Mr Talukdar! |
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