There was darkness all over. The wind whispered through the whining willows and the trembling eucalyptus trees. The road lay empty, barren and unpromising like a widow. The moon opened her moisture laden eyes, batted an eyelid and a drop of the ethereal spirit fell on the grass.My story dates back to a night in the pre-independence era, in the remote Chhindwara district of Madhya Pradesh. Dr Makhan Lal Chaudhury, my maternal great grand father was unable to sleep. In just another few hours, as the morning sun paved its way slicing through the anesthesia of the night, death of another innocent would stealthily creep into the jail quarters. Another brave heart nipped in the bud, another wailing mother, another young girl widowed, another infant orphaned, another spirited patriot to be hanged till death! What disturbed Dr Chaudhury was not the death alone, but the fact that he, a devoted Indian himself was a part of this ruthless killing of innocence and party to a sin, no less heinous than a crime. Dr Chaudhury was the jail doctor. It was his responsibility to see that the prisoner was medically fit for execution. In nights like these, he felt like a traitor!
A soft spoken man himself whose heart bled for others, his job seemed to him akin to a butcher’s! This was not a part of the Hippocratic Oath that he had taken, while graduating from the Medical College in Patna. He had pledged like all others, to save man and serve humanity to the best of his abilities. But now his job, under the colonial rule, demanded that he played this undesired role.Dr Chaudhury’s thoughts wandered from his own experiences with the young prisoners. Some of them were just boys. And none of them were wrong!
This knowledge and its realization perhaps hurt him most. He thought of their names, which he had personally taken an interest to find out, beyond their identities as numbers! A few of them had told him about their homes, their families and even their dreams; some of which would remain unfulfilled after their deaths. Suddenly, he felt guilty of knowing a dying man’s last wish and ashamed of his inability to fulfill it. During the routine medical inspections, he had tried his best to provide the best of services possible under those conditions. He had even made tireless efforts to ensure that the living environment in the cells were more hygienic.Now, he felt happy that he could make life a bit more comfortable for the boys who were facing trial and imprisonment and even death.
An alarm cracked in through the silence of the night! It was time to be up. He left his bed silently walking like a man in a stupor, tightened his jaws and wore his khaki uniform. Quietly, he tiptoed into the Puja Room and said a silent prayer! The jeep was in his driveway and the Gorkha driver in khaki shorts saluted him. No one said a word. Without even exchanging a glance, they drove into the high walled jail quarters.
It was thirty minutes past four when the prisoners were brought for their final medical check up. They were four in all and were in their early twenties. The pundit was reciting lines from the Bhagwat Gita. His deep throated voice echoed in the stillness of the dawn. He was chanting out lines from the divine message of Lord Krishna, and saying that the body of a man was akin to a piece of clothing. When one wore off, the soul tailored itself into another and lived on!
To Dr Chaudhury, it sounded more like a slow, planned and deliberate preparation for death.As the four young boys marched to face the final sentence, they walked like warriors, with their heads held high and their faces gleaming with a strange glow. The radiance on their countenance began to make Dr. Chaudhury nervous. So young, yet so brave! Just as the first rays of dawn sieved in through the dingy cells, Time stopped for a moment! He closed his eyes and said a last prayer, hoping that the souls rested in peace.
With an iron heart and a heavy conscience, Dr Chaudhury trot back to his dreary office chamber. He had another work to finish. The four death certificates had to be signed and sealed with the government stamp. The memory of the four boys came back to him. Their radiant faces that shone like victors even as they faced the dreaded last sentence haunted his mind leaving him with a pang of guilt. It overwhelmed his soul and a numb-ness overcame his body. And at that instant, Dr Chaudhury made a decision!He took out another white sheet of paper and wrote his letter of resignation.
Dr Chaudhury decided to walk back to his bungalow. He left the walled jail campus with a free and happy conscience. The sun was out in its full glory, streaking a crimson luminescent halo against an azure blue eastern sky over the Satpura Ranges, paving way for a new day and a new beginning.
To my great grand father and to the true patriot in his heart,
Yours in pride,
Ananya
