Life Among the Scorpions

by Jaya Jaitly

  I am sure the tensions he suffered throughout his entire tenure in the Ministry of Defence in matters concerning security, politics of coalitions, the Party, lack of Party funds, and disappointment with issues like Bofors which were not taken to its logical end, added to the neurological ailment building up silently in his brain. The final nail in the coffin could perhaps have been the humiliation George Fernandes suffered by being rejected as the rightful candidate for his own beloved constituency of Muzaffarpur in a rude and cursory manner by the Party colleagues. By the end, I saw his many frustrations being translated into far too many extended silences.

  *Kar sevaks refer to those who voluntarily provide support and service for religious purposes

  *‘George Fernandes and Gujarat riots: Jaya Jaitly recounts the events after Godhra’, 1 January 2007, http://www.thenewsminute.com/article/george-fernandes-and-gujarat-riots-jaya-jaitly-recounts-events-after-godhra-55075

  23

  WHY JAYA DIDN’T MAKE IT TO THE RAJYA SABHA LIST

  Negatives Make News

  THE TITLE OF THIS CHAPTER draws from the headline of a four-column news item in the Hindustan Times of 28 August 2003 (see photo section). It is funny that something that did not happen should become news rather than the opposite; I suppose, I have to now tell the tale which has a ‘pre’ and ‘post’ part.

  Most people, who get a nomination to Parliament, a major national award, or an important position in government, are presumed to have clawed everyone aside, massaged the egos of important people, fought furiously or lobbied shamelessly among the powers that be. Our elite are so cynical that very few recipients are considered truly deserving and even less are believed if they say they had never asked for it. With some honourable exceptions, they are not speaking the truth because public life isn’t that simple. Yet they blush and pretend the honour was totally unexpected. Many friends and acquaintances have lobbied through me hoping to reach George Fernandes and other influential leaders. It would be a shame to mention names and I have no intention of shaming anyone. But, I have seen it all.

  In my case, it is easy to tell the absolute truth of why I did not make it to the Rajya Sabha, and no, I truly never asked for it. Again, since I never had any expectations, I have no bitterness, no fact to hide, no regret to offer. I have enough self-respect to admit that had I been in the Upper House, or the House of the Elders as it’s supposed to be, I believe I would have been a deserving elder for the years of work I have done in my field and the extent to which I have contributed towards the well-being of India’s arts and crafts communities. Not being there hasn’t deterred my work at all, but hopefully an honest disclosure clears the air for another convoluted story in my life among the scorpions.

  In 2003, the leaders of the Party decided that the Samata Party would merge with the JD(U) to become a bigger force against Lalu Prasad Yadav’s Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) in Bihar. The JD(U) had only recently split from the RJD. Samata was a bigger Party and had fought against Lalu Prasad Yadav for a longer time. This had given the Party headed by Sharad Yadav psychological supremacy. Top leaders of both parties met in George Fernandes’s drawing room. The decision was taken and a press conference slotted to announce this momentous event had already been organized at the back verandah. Digvijay Singh, who passed away suddenly some years later in London, came to me in the side room after the press conference was over and told me the news. The Parties had merged, the new formation was now the Janata Dal (U), George Fernandes was its head, and Sharad Yadav was the chairman of the Parliamentary Board. The most remarkable and significant aspect of the decision was that I was no part of it. I felt like I had been knocked off my feet. When did this happen and why is it not named after the Samata? Why was I not in the picture? In fact, why was I kept clueless by everyone, including him and George Sahib? To my load of questions Digvijay Singh’s only answer was, ‘Khair, Jayaji, ab to ho gaya.’ (Well, Jayaji, now it’s done.)

  Just because I was deeply hurt and humiliated, did not mean I should have tried and do the same to those who took the decision. Instead, silently, with no noise, drama or public recriminations, I quit Party politics.

  The small advantage George Fernandes seems to have seen in this act of mine was that he thought I could now be nominated for the Rajya Sabha under the Arts & Culture/Public Service, Social Work category. He did not speak to me about this, but discussed it with his colleagues, Prime Minister Vajpayee, L.K. Advani, Jaswant Singh and Venkaiah Naidu, who was by then president of the BJP. They apparently had a long discussion on whether the Tehelka allegations might come in the way. The Law Ministry was said to have given its view on file that no crime had been committed. The group of big wigs decided I was perfectly capable of defending myself on the floor of the House if an attack from the Opposition came my way. George Fernandes told me all this only after they had finalized their decision.

  The only thing I said was, ‘Wait and see, it won’t happen!’ I don’t think he liked my negative attitude but he remained silent as usual.

  One Sunday morning in August 2003, Venkaiah Naidu called and asked for my biodata to be sent to L.K. Advani’s residence. When I asked why, he just laughed. Subsequently, eight files for eight nominees were prepared and one was mine. Later that month, the prime minister went to meet the President of India, Dr A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, for his signature on the files. According to the Hindustan Times news item, when the list was later released, there was one vacancy. I was in Ahmedabad working on a crafts map with a traditional artist and a graphic designer. Digvijay Singh called to say there was a picture of me in the Hindustan Times looking ‘khoobsurat’ (beautiful), and that my name was off because of the Tehelka controversy, but that I had been on the list that included actor Hema Malini, former RBI Governor Bimal Jalan, journalist Chandan Mitra, former wrestler Dara Singh and others. I wasn’t surprised, just very curious.

  When I returned to Delhi, I nudged George Sahib to ask the prime minister, although he was hesitant and uncomfortable about it. I couldn’t help my curiosity although my original prophecy was correct. He asked him about three weeks later and was told the President had hesitated because of the allegations against me. Some weeks later, he was meeting the President on some defence matters as he was also the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. I awkwardly asked whether he could enquire about what happened, as the President and he had a very good personal equation. George Sahib returned to convey that the President described how the prime minister had requested him not to sign my file as a senior BJP colleague had expressed reservations about attacks on me in Parliament. Apparently, the President had responded by saying his duty was to sign on the dotted line so he would do whatever the prime minister asked. It was hard to believe it was this colleague, a woman, who had dissuaded the prime minister at the eleventh hour. I felt someone else was behind it. Since it was only a guess and the person is no more, I will not venture a name. It was one of the strangest situations, knowing the top two people in the land were telling contradictory stories about me. It was hard to make sense of it, but I was glad the issue was over.

  Unfortunately, George Sahib did not let things rest.

  Sardar Tarlochan Singh is a well-preserved Sikh with a personality that makes you notice him in a crowd. He is pleasant, well-mannered and extremely effective at what he sets his mind at. I met him in 1990 when I first walked into the office of the Managing Director of Delhi Tourism to propose the idea of Dilli Haat. He was receptive and supported me in all the follow-through as a good deputy to the Chairman, S. Regunathan, of whom I wrote in my story of Dilli Haat. He served in many positions of the Punjab government and later became Press Secretary to the President of India, Giani Zail Singh. That time was such that he became politically oriented and moved to networking between the leadership opposed to the Congress party in Punjab and Haryana. We became something between acquaintances and good friends over a decade. He often accompanied Akali Dal leaders or Om Prakash Chautala’s group visiting George Fernandes. I would n
early always join the political discussions.

  During the elections to the Haryana Assembly, the Election Commission of India (ECI) had asked Chautala, as chief minister, to keep away from his own constituency and the state itself on polling day because of some earlier history of violence. I spoke up as an ally at our Party’s daily press conference protesting that the ECI had denied a citizen his right to vote, and a chief minister from fulfilling his responsibility to maintain law and order in his state. Chautala later went to court and won the case. Sometime later, Tarlochan Singh accompanied an Indian National Lok Dal (INLD) group with Chautala to thank me for my support among other things. He often conveyed the appreciation of the Badals and Sikhs in general for the work I had done to support the victims of 1984. Sometimes he just came over to chat with me to share political views about what was going on in the NDA government and outside. Whenever we would be on our own or in the presence of George Sahib, he would repeatedly say that I should be in the Rajya Sabha for the work I had done for crafts, democratic politics and the Sikhs. I would brush the suggestion off brusquely and George Sahib would remain silent as he did about most things concerning me.

  One day, in 2004, George Sahib was at his desk when I walked in. He looked up with an odd expression on his face.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.

  He answered at a slow pace. ‘I spoke to Chautala today about giving you a Rajya Sabha seat from Haryana. You remember Tarlochan has been repeatedly suggesting this.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of this. Why did you do it?’ I burst out.

  ‘Wait and listen,’ he cautioned. ‘Listen to what Chautala said.’

  ‘It’s silly. Anyway…what?’ I was impatient because it was an awkward subject.

  ‘Chautala said he wished I had told him earlier. He would have happily obliged. He says now he has given his word to Tarlochan Singh who has been after him for a Rajya Sabha seat for a long time.’

  I closed the conversation once and for all with ‘good’, thoroughly embarrassed by now and feeling quite foolish that this subject had come up again.

  Anyway, Tarlochan Singh did a good job in Parliament on behalf of Sikhs worldwide, and I am happy for that.

  With all the Tehelka flak I had to bear, and the ongoing inquiry, I believe George Sahib thought I deserved some kind of public compensation in the form of a position of value that the society at large and the political world recognized. He had always expressed faith in my activism, my work among craftspersons, and had mentored me for thirty years by then, putting me into every difficult situation he could think of, to hone my understanding of political matters. He was probably the only man who has ever made me feel without any hesitation or condescension, that I had an intellect and capacity worth respecting. He also had the patience to teach me when I was being foolish or ignorant. And so, he would not give up on the Rajya Sabha issue. He never discussed it with me, knowing my prickly responses.

  After the NDA was defeated in March 2004, the Bihar elections of late 2004 put Nitish Kumar firmly on the seat of the chief minister. George Sahib asked me to request Nitish Kumar to drop by at AIIMS where he was recovering from a neurosurgery to treat the collection of fluid in his brain. He said he wanted to talk to him about governance and development issues in Bihar. Later I learned that he had spoken to him about finally acknowledging my contributions to the Party by sending me to the Rajya Sabha as an elected candidate from Bihar. Apparently he had readily agreed, saying it was long overdue.

  In March 2005, Nitish Kumar asked me to give him a plan for the development of handicrafts in the state since it was a subject I had been constantly involved in for so long. I took a month to compile fourteen pages of detailed plans for different crafts across Bihar, including those where sources of funds could be accessed. It was sent to him by hand with a covering letter offering to be involved further, if required. I never received an acknowledgement. The chief minister apparently dropped in briefly once on Holi to greet his leader, where he reassured him I would get the nomination. I cringed when George Sahib told me; I did not believe it. Instead, I was told to prepare the documents required to be filed, including details of my assets and bank account. No one would believe the pathetic state of my finances. There were no assets worth anything, so it may have surprised those used to seeing Rajya Sabha aspirants having crores. This part was ironic since I was accused of bribery and corruption by Tehelka.

  The Rajya Sabha nominations were to be filed in April 2005. I was told to await a call from Bihar telling me when to arrive there. Nothing happened. On the morning of the very last day for filing nominations, just after the last flight had left Delhi for Patna, George Sahib received a call from the chief minister saying he could not give me the seat as he had decided to give it to ‘King Mahendra’ (Mahendra Prasad), a businessman who had moved from Congress to RJD to Congress and now JD(U). He said he had helped the Party in the elections. George Sahib tried to argue that I too had done a lot for the Party over the years and that they all owed it to me. I watched him speak from across the room. His face became stiff and after a few moments of silence, he put the receiver down.

  ‘He says he has done a lot for women by keeping 50 per cent of seats reserved for them at the panchayat level in Bihar. He disconnected the phone after that,’ George Sahib recounted the entire conversation, in complete disbelief.

  Ironically, a few minutes later, King Mahendra walked in unannounced, to touch George Sahib’s feet and seek his blessings. With a grim face, George Sahib said, ‘But you already have them,’ and ended the conversation. I left the room to save us both from further embarrassment.

  24

  COURTS IN INDIA

  A Slow Halal

  IS IT TOO MUCH OF a cliché to say that the wheels of justice move slowly in India? Except for those stuck in the octopus-like grip of our legal system, people consider it as a given, and look away since it is not their concern. After all, surveys at the end of 2016 show around 61,000 cases pending in the Supreme Court, around four million in the high courts and approximately 28 million in the lower courts. If an average of three persons are involved in the case, it has been calculated that 84 million people are waiting for justice. Just as a statistic, I am one of those nearly 28 million stuck in the legal system of our country since 2006. It has been eleven years so far.

  Ninety-four per cent of the cases have been pending from five to fifteen years. The average is three years and nine months in the Delhi High Court which is considered one of the better ones, but my own appeal, the one filed in the same high court against a lower court decision to send me to trial, has not been fully heard for four years so far. Lawyers ask why the high court should stay the trial now, when it is reaching its end. I ask what the point of the recourse of an appeal is if it is never heard. Instead, both are seemingly stuck in a block of concrete.

  Sometimes verdicts take over two years to be pronounced although the rules say they should be taken within thirty days. There is a chronic shortage of judges, but apart from that, the delays are mostly because lawyers seek numerous adjournments both for the sake of a criminal client who prefers to evade progress towards judgement day or because lawyers have to keep juggling too many balls in the air to earn a living. In either case, they end up with no available dates for early hearings. Then there are gazetted holidays, long vacations, ‘the judge is leave today’ days, and lawyers’ strikes to add to the frustrated client’s woes. Lawyers blame it on the ‘system’ that prevents them from offering solutions to expedite a case. Delays of all kinds—from the judge’s habitually slow pace, lack of a sense of urgency, or a heavy workload—emanate from the fact that in India we have only 17 judges per million cases, while France has 124, USA 108, Australia 40, Canada 33, and even a small country like the UK, 22 judges.

  Preoccupations of state-prosecuting agencies are taken as a given. For lawyers, it is par for the course. Most lawyers look at a case as just one more case to be handled with the rusty tools and creaking
systems available to them. They see nothing unusual in my situation where, the prosecution has taken 468 weeks to produce forty-seven witnesses with the final witness, who is their main one, playing hide and seek for three years.

  India’s current Finance Minister Arun Jaitley hit the nail on its head in his address to the CBI in his D.P. Kohli memorial lecture in 2016:

  The investigator follows the golden rule that if he gives a report that the accused is prima facie not guilty, then, questions are going to be raised about him. Therefore, his golden rule is he must somehow make the case and it is the accused’s good luck whether he gets a fair trial…

  With such clarity of perception in the new government, I imagined our pace of trials would find ways of picking up. But take my case filed by the CBI, for instance. I presumed that a certain official serving in an important capacity in the Venkataswami/Phukan Inquiry Commission was to serve it without prejudice or forming any opinions of his own. Therefore, I found it significant that when the Commission was disbanded, although that official returned to his Ministry as an ordinary official, he saw it fit to lodge a complaint with the police that the noticees, including me, had committed a crime. The obedient law enforcement agencies took note and an FIR was filed against me in December 2004. I was informed of this when the media came rushing to me at Dilli Haat where I was conducting a workshop. When the media came disrupting my craft work, I gave them short shrift. They were so surprised at my vehemence that they backed off and left, but it caused much excitement in the media. My answer to reporters’ breathless queries about my reactions to the FIR was simply, ‘Let them. I don’t care.’