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Authors: Yashpal

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This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach (163 page)

BOOK: This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach
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‘It’s a false truth.’

‘But there is evidence to prove that falsehood as truth. We also need evidence to refute their allegations. It’s essential to show what’s true and what’s false. And we need evidence to support what’s really true.’ Nayyar raised his finger to give a warning, ‘Don’t take it to mean that I am telling you to lie. It’s not an incident that is true or false; truth or falsehood depends on how we interpret its occurrence, and the intention behind that interpretation. We must make an effort to find out the facts to see if those facts help us ascertain the truth. We need evidence in ascertaining the truth.

‘Puri’s wife is a witness to the fact that Puri had known about you since 1949, and that for the past nine years both he and Somraj have been living in the same city. They are thick as thieves. Their relationship is so close that Puri is testifying in Somraj’s favour against his own sister. Naturally, Puri was obliged to inform Somraj about you. He cannot say that he didn’t. And Puri didn’t call you to Jalandhar because he knew that Somraj had deserted you.’

Nayyar looked at Kanak, ‘Won’t Kanak give an assurance to testify that Puri ignored his sister’s desire and her attempts to reunite with Somraj because he knew that Somraj didn’t want to take Tara back?’

‘I’ll certainly do that,’ Kanak leaned forward and said firmly. ‘That
is
the truth. Somraj had been living with his bhabhi even before I came to Jalandhar. Puriji knew it, but tried to conceal it from everybody. I’ll certainly admit that, in the court, in public, anywhere. That’s not a falsehood, but the truth. It is absolutely true that Somraj and Puriji didn’t want Tara to come to Jalandhar.’

Tara took a deep breath. She was amazed at this strange cause and effect that was gradually evolving into a logical answer to the false accusations against her. The fact that she despised Somraj and didn’t want him as her husband had little significance.

Nayyar gestured for Kanak to listen and said to Tara, ‘Your reply should be based on this type of evidence. There is another important point, that your reply should include a word of warning to your ministry that you will go to court if a now defunct marriage is used as an excuse for an unwarranted action against you. And should such a situation arise, you should not shirk from going to court. Their accusation can be proven false in court only on the basis of Kanni’s testimony.’

It was decided after a long discussion that Tara and Nath would write out their statements and show them to Nayyar before he went back to Jalandhar. Kanak, in her role as Puri’s wife, would write a letter to the Prime Minister and another to the president of the Congress party about this blackmail to sabotage the government’s policy of nationalization.

Nayyar again gestured for everyone to pay attention, ‘In the letter to the Prime Minister and the president of Congress it is imperative to draw attention to the anomaly that if the investigation has been undertaken to redress wrongs done to Somraj, the first step should have been making an application in the law court to annul Taraji’s second marriage. Puri made no attempt to reunite his sister with her in-laws’ family. What were Puri’s motives behind his testimony against his sister? Was it a sense of duty or some other reason which prompted him to do so? Who filed the report that was the basis for action taken by the Special Police? Who gave the order for the inquiry? Is the investigation being carried out for purely political reasons? You should clearly state that both Puri and Somraj suck up to Sood to benefit from his influence and power, that they are just pawns in Sood’s hands.’

When Pandit Girdharilal came to know about the malicious campaign against Tara and Nath, it filled him with pain and disgust. He talked gloomily for quite a while, ‘What’ll become of our country if party politics can descend to such a low level?’ There was a lot of discussion on this topic for the next two days at the Naya Hind Press, but how could Panditji forget his daughter’s problem. Panditji broached the subject in the afternoon of the day Nayyar was going back by the night train, ‘Barkhurdar, what did you decide to do about Kanak’s problem?’

Nayyar gave a brief answer, ‘Pitaji, you have seen Puri’s attitude. It seems pointless to expect him to make any concessions. But I’ve told Kanak to send a copy of her letter to the Prime Minister and the Congress president
to Puri and add a note to it that Tara will go to court to fight the injustice against her. And that Kanak, as Puri’s wife and someone who was in a position to have witnessed the ill treatment of Tara, would testify against the false accusations. Let’s see what happens.’

Nath and Tara sent in their replies to the notices by the end of October. For Tara each day was an eternity of tension and suspense: What would the final outcome be? She was not so much worried about losing her job as she was about Nath feeling shamed and humiliated by the scandal. She had gone through hell, but suffering such ignominy after earning a respected reputation seemed intolerable.

Nath told the whole story to Dr Solis. Solis was also the adviser to the ministry for foreign affairs, a portfolio held by the Prime Minister, and met with him from time to time. The Prime Minister had a high regard and respect for Solis because of his international repute. Solis had it in mind to discuss Nath’s problem with the Prime Minister, but didn’t get a chance to speak to him.

The Prime Minister was so busy in the preparations for the coming elections and the selection of the Congress candidates that he could not find any time for Solis before the first week of January 1957. Solis reassured Nath and Tara afterwards that the Prime Minister had asked the decision on their case to be held in abeyance until he had reviewed it, and that he knew Sood and his shenanigans very well.

Solis’s reassurance didn’t make Tara’s worry go away. She never considered herself guilty of doing anything wrong, it was the idea of a humiliating reputation that she loathed, but waiting for any verdict from the Prime Minister’s Office meant more delay. The newspapers carried daily reports of the Prime Minister’s whirlwind tours, of his statements and speeches about the elections. He said the same things most of the time, over and over again about the public’s responsibility to the nation, ‘We’ve got to move with the fast-changing times. Our country has been beset with grave problems, national problems as well as international problems, but the people are obsessed with their own small and personal problems. We must try to rise above all such petty, personal concerns.’

Tara had heard the same message from the Prime Minister soon after the country had become independent, when she was in the refugee camp, bereft of hope and with nothing to look forward to. On hearing the same
message from him nine years later, all she could do was sigh deeply and hold her peace.

Everyone who came to meet Tara and Nath would talk about the elections. Election news from any state in the country becomes a topic of discussion in Delhi, the country’s nerve centre. The Congress party’s election strategy attracted a lot of criticism, ‘The leaders still invoke Gandhiji’s memory when asking people to vote for Congress, but can anyone see the ideals and principles of Gandhiji in the policies of the Congress or in the way the government administers the country? Gandhiji’s ideals have been entombed with him in Rajghat.’

Tara would try to forget her troubles and take part in the conversation.

It was the third week of January, and bitterly cold. Gusts of chilly wind pierced the body like an arrow, and a light drizzle fell. Tara was a little surprised to see Kanak and Gill call on her after travelling so far in such weather.

Kanak was smiling and radiant with happiness, and trying to hide her blushes. After saying hello to Tara and asking after Nath, she said, ‘I have received a notice from Jalandhar that he has petitioned for divorce on the grounds of desertion.’

Tara patted Kanak on her back and congratulated her warmly, ‘You are at least out of your misery.’

Nath was busy in his study. Tara turned her face in that direction and called out, ‘Listen, please come here for a minute.’

She said when Nath came, ‘Give congratulations to Kanak.’

Nath took Kanak’s hands into his and congratulated her. Then said as he took a chair, ‘Do you know why Puri decided to divorce you? Should I tell you? For the fear that his reputation would be ruined if you testify against him. Now he’d be able to claim that you always bore him ill will, and were giving false testimony to smear his name.’

Kanak’s face lost its radiance.

‘Arey, don’t worry about that!’ Tara and Nath said together. ‘A lie has no legs!’

Nath trusted Dr Solis to keep his word, but the sight of Tara wasting away was deeply upsetting to him. Nath tried to calm her fears, but Tara insisted she was not worried about anything.

Nath could see Tara’s state for himself. Everyone had congratulated her on how well she looked after returning from Switzerland. Now she didn’t look even half as good as before. Nath often felt her body to be abnormally warm. He brought a thermometer, and when Tara agreed to have her temperature taken after much cajoling, he found that her temperature fluctuated between 99 and 100 degrees.

Nath’s anxiety knew no bounds. He telephoned Dr Solis, ‘What do you want me to do? Should I resign if the Prime Minister cannot find the time to look into my case? I haven’t done that only because I’ll be playing into the hands of the conspirators.’

Dr Solis said helplessly, ‘Had the Prime Minister been in Delhi. I’d have reminded him. As you know, yesterday he went back to Punjab. He’s gone there to shore up the Congress candidate, which means Sood himself. That’s politics for you. First Sood sabotages the Prime Minister and then asks him for his support. Well, I’ll definitely try once he’s back…’

In Jalandhar the counting of votes began at ten in the morning. The result was eagerly awaited in Delhi. The Congress supporters and opponents both knew that Sood would win; they were curious how many votes Sood’s rival candidate would get? The counting was expected to be over by 6 p.m. Gill reached the bureau of the news agency at 5.45.

The bureau chief had left. The office was very noisy. Several freelance journalists were also present out of curiosity. Everyone was talking about the rumours they had heard about the situation in Punjab. All Congress adversaries had joined together in an attempt to defeat Sood, making it the first instance of a united front against the Congress. The public was curious whether such a coalition would work. One rumour had it that many Congress party members unhappy with Sood’s nepotistic and dictatorial style had quietly supported his opponent. Congress seemed confident of getting the vote of government employees, but it was said that the government employees, fearful of Sood’s goons, went to the Congress camp to get their voter slips, but for whom they actually voted was to be known only when the votes would be tallied. How many had done that was anyone’s guess.

Sangal, an assistant editor at the agency, was teasing another journalist Munish, ‘You hope that Sood will lose? Have a bet with me. One for ten
wagers. If Sood wins you give me ten rupees, and I’ll pay you one hundred if he loses. Want to bet?’

Munish was saying in a feeble voice, ‘Arey, we’ll find out in ten or fifteen minutes.’ He didn’t have the courage to place a bet.

They all continued to guess: The Congress has already won a majority in Punjab. There was little doubt that the party leader and the driving force behind the win would be easily elected.

Some journalists thought that Sood’s opponent would lose his deposit. And that he must have had his petition challenging the result on the basis of irregularities in the polling and counting of votes all typed up even before the announcement of the final result.

Siddhu said, ‘I was in Jalandhar just three days before the polling. Hey, it couldn’t even be called a contest between him and Sood. As if some goat were taking on a water buffalo. The poor chap is sure to lose his deposit.’

Prasad refused to accept that Sood’s opponent would be defeated by so large a margin. He said, ‘Sood’s opponents in Jalandhar didn’t have motor cars, jeeps and trucks, but it was clearly evident that there was a great deal of opposition to Sood. I myself heard several Congresswallahs say that Congress must be saved from Sood. That they’d rather disobey party orders than vote for dishonesty. Packs of children went around shouting, “We hear in every pathway and lane, thieves like Sood and Puri are to blame.” The feeling of discontent among the public was widespread. Sood’s opponents were not very visible or vocal, but their whisper campaign is really working. My guess is Sood’s opponent would at least capture ten to fifteen thousand votes.’

Sangal, standing next to a row of teleprinters, was flashing around a hundred-rupee note and challenging everyone to lay a bet, ‘Any takers? Only ten rupees!’

The room resounded with the chatter of teleprinters spewing out ticker tape printed with news. Whenever a teleprinter began to print a new item, Sangal at once bent forward to check it. He straightened up without reading further the news from Nagpur, Calcutta, Bombay or Lucknow.

Singh and Chakravarty were working the phones to find out if any newspaper office had received news from Jalandhar by trunk call.

Sangal told them to stop, ‘Let it go, bhai. If there is a trunk call, we too will receive it here. But who’d be able to get through to Delhi? The
telephone lines must be jammed by hundreds of callers anxious to get news of Sood’s election.’

Sangal held up his arm the moment he saw ‘Jalandhar’ on one machine and leaned forward to read it. The room suddenly grew quiet. Several others rushed towards the teleprinter with bated breath.

The agency office erupted into frenzy. Ignoring every rule of decorum, the journalists began to shout ‘Inquilab zindabad!’ and ‘Down with dictatorship!’ They hugged one another and jumped up and down and cheered. A burst of delighted enthusiasm left Sangal speechless.

Gill reached for the telephone. It was not free. Some people were already waiting to use it. He quickly went down the stairs and into a shop to telephone the news. But that telephone was also not free. He was so excited he could hardly contain himself. He went to a nearby mithai shop, and from there called the Naya Hind Press. A peon named Murali answered, ‘Panditji just went out. Kanakji is not back yet.’

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