Lajja

by Taslima Nasrin

  ‘What’s the matter, Suronjon? How come you’re in bed at this time?’

  ‘Someone like me doesn’t keep proper hours.’

  Suronjon shifted a bit to make place for Kajol.

  ‘Has Maya come back?’

  ‘No,’ sighed Suronjon.

  ‘What can be done? We should do something.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  Kajol had salt-and-pepper hair and was in his forties. He was wearing a loose-fitting shirt and his brow was creased with worry. ‘Want one?’ he asked, holding out a cigarette to Suronjon.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Suronjon, reaching out gladly. It had been a long time since he had bought cigarettes. Whom would he ask for money? Kironmoyee? He had been feeling so ashamed that he had stopped going to their room. Suronjon felt that he was to blame for Maya’s abduction. He was the one who always went on and on about this country and had asserted loudly that the people of this country were not communal. Therefore, he had to accept that he was at fault. He was too ashamed to face an idealistic, honest and just person like Sudhamoy.

  Suronjon continued to smoke on an empty stomach.

  ‘Stop it, Dada. Don’t do it,’ Maya would have said. ‘You’ll surely get cancer because you’re smoking on an empty stomach. You’ll die.’

  It would not be bad if he had cancer, thought Suronjon. He could lie in bed and wait for death. There would be no need to live and hope.

  Kajol Debnath could not really figure out what to do. ‘They’ve taken away your sister,’ he said. ‘After this, they will take my daughter. Yes, they will. Today they’ve hit Goutom on his head. Tomorrow it’ll be either you or me.’

  ‘Tell me,’ asked Suronjon. ‘Are we human or Hindus?’

  ‘They came to this room, too, didn’t they?’ asked Kajol, as his eyes took in the room.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What was Maya doing then?’

  ‘They told me she was getting rice for Baba.’

  ‘Couldn’t she thrash them?’

  ‘How could she? They had sticks and rods. And can Hindus possibly beat up Muslims? In India the minority Muslims hit back. When two groups fight each other it is called a riot. There they have riots. And people say we’re having riots here! What we have here is communal terror. You can call it torture and violence. One lot is gleefully smashing and killing the other.’

  ‘Do you think Maya will come back?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Every time Maya’s name came up, Suronjon had noticed that he felt something was stuck in his throat. He felt an emptiness in his chest.

  ‘Kajol da, what else is going on in the country?’

  Suronjon wanted to move away from any discussion about Maya.

  ‘Twenty-eight thousand homes, two thousand seven hundred businesses and three thousand six hundred temples have been damaged and devastated. Twelve people are dead and there have been losses of 2 billion takas. Countless villages have been destroyed. A frenzy of destruction has affected forty-three districts. Two thousand six hundred women have been tortured. Some temples have been damaged very badly. The five-hundred-year-old temple of Gourango Mohaprobhu to the south of Sylhet, the Kali temple in Baniachong that was several centuries old, Koibolyodham and Tulsidham in Chittagong, Modonmohon Akhara in Bhola and the Ramakrishna Mission in Sunamganj and Foridpur.’

  ‘Isn’t the government providing any aid?’ asked Suronjon.

  ‘No. The government hasn’t provided any aid, nor has it permitted any aid agency to do so. Of course, some non-government organizations have taken the initiative and are offering some help. Thousands of people are living in the open. They don’t have clothes, food or homes. Some of the women who were raped can no longer speak. Some people have lost their businesses and are stupefied. They are still being terrorized and their remaining lands and possessions are being usurped. In the Borishal division, the damage suffered amounts to 750 million takas and in the Chottogram division it is 250 million takas. The damages are 100 million takas in the Dhaka division! Ten million takas each in the Khulna and Rajshahi divisions. The total damages are 1070 million takas. The total damages to business are 220 million takas. Damages to temples come to 570 million takas.’

  ‘This is not good, Kajol da. I don’t like it.’

  ‘Do you know the worst thing that’s happening? The exodus! There is absolutely no way that we can stop the tidal wave of people leaving the country this time. The government has always maintained that Hindus aren’t leaving the country. Desh, the Calcutta magazine, wrote that nearly one hundred and fifty thousand people go to India from Bangladesh each year and most of them are not going back. In the last two decades, more than 5 million people of the minority community have been forced to leave this country. If we look at the six census reports, we’ll see that in 1941, Muslims were 70.3 per cent of the population and Hindus were 28.3 per cent. Muslims were 76.9 per cent in 1951 and Hindus 22 per cent. In 1961, Muslims were 80.4 per cent and Hindus were 18.5 per cent. In 1974, it was 85.4 per cent Muslims and 13.5 per cent Hindus. In 1981, Muslims were 86.7 per cent and Hindus 12.1 per cent. In 1991, Muslims were 87.4 per cent and Hindus 12.6 per cent. The number of Muslims is going up and the number of Hindus down. Why are the numbers going down and where are the people going? If the government is saying there is no migration, then what are we to make of the census figures. Do you know what will happen with the new census? Hindus and Muslims will not be counted separately.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘If you count Hindus and Muslims separately, you know that the number of Hindus is declining, so . . .’

  ‘So, Kajol da, we now know that this government is very cunning, don’t we?’ asked Suronjon as he stretched himself and yawned.

  Kajol Debnath did not say anything but lit another cigarette and put it to his lips.

  ‘Do you have an ashtray?’ he asked.

  ‘Feel free to use this room like an ashtray.’

  ‘I should meet your parents. But what consolation can I offer them?’ said Kajol Debnath, lowering his head in shame. He was feeling so ashamed. It felt almost like his brother had abducted Maya.

  And they were back to talking about Maya! Suronjon felt as if a volcano would erupt in his chest.

  ‘Kajol da, hadn’t Jinnah said that henceforth we are all Pakistani and not Hindus or Muslims? Didn’t that stop Hindus from going to India?’

  ‘Jinnah was an Ismaili Khoja. They were Muslims all right but they followed Hindu laws of inheritance. His surname is Khojani. His birthname was Jhinabhai Khojani. He just kept the Jhina and stopped using the rest. Jinnah had promised an end to communalism but Hindus were victimized despite his assurances. And so, in 1948, 1.1 million Hindus left East Pakistan for India! In India they were known as refugees.’

  ‘Many Muslims came to this country during the riots in West Bengal.’

  ‘Yes, many Muslims have come here from Assam and West Bengal but they have gone back too. There was the Nehru–Liaquat Pact between the governments of India and Pakistan and the Pact said that “in both the countries, minorities, irrespective of religious affiliation, would have all citizenship rights”. Their rights to life, culture and property were recognized, as well as their right to freedom of expression and the right to practise their religion. According to the conditions of the pact, the people who had come from that side went back. But the people who had gone from here didn’t come back. Although they didn’t come back, people stopped leaving for some time. But in 1951, the Pakistani legislature passed two laws—the East Bengal Evacuee Property Act of 1951 and East Bengal Evacuees’ Act of 1951. Consequently, 3.5 million people from East Pakistan left the country. Your father knows all of this well.’

  ‘Baba does not tell me any of this. He gets furious when the issue of leaving the country comes up. He can’t bear such talk!’

  ‘Can we accept the idea of leaving our country? B
ut how will you keep the people who are leaving? Some are leaving quietly and secretly. They need some kind of reassurance. Do people want to leave their land? The scriptures say that one is happiest in one’s own land. Muslims are used to hijrat or migration. We know from history that Muslims have travelled from one country to another. Hindus, however, have a strong tie with their land.’

  Kajol Debnath walked to the veranda as he spoke, probably to rein in his emotions.

  ‘Let’s go out and get some tea,’ he said as he came back in.

  Suronjon decided to go out just the way he was. He hadn’t bathed or changed his clothes for the last few days, and he was not sure when he had last eaten. He threw off his quilt and jumped up, ready to go out.

  ‘Let’s go. I’ve been in bed so long that I feel stiff,’ he said.

  Suronjon left his door unlocked. Why bother to lock it now? The terrible thing that could happen had happened, anyway.

  ‘Are you eating?’ Kajol Debnath asked.

  ‘Ma brings my meals to my room. I eat sometimes and at other times I don’t. I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel good,’ said Suronjon, running his fingers through his hair. He was not trying to make himself presentable but simply trying to lessen his pain.

  ‘Kajol da, wasn’t there less migration amongst Hindus in 1969 and ’70?’ asked Suronjon, going back to what they had been discussing.

  ‘In 1966 there was the Six Point Movement. The number of Hindus leaving the country went down from the People’s Uprising of 1969 and the elections of 1970 right till the Liberation War. Between 1955 to 1960, 1 million Hindus left. When the Liberation War began, nearly 10 million people took shelter in India and of them, almost 80 per cent were Hindus. When they returned after the war, the Hindus saw that their homes and properties had been usurped. Many left but some stayed back hoping that things would get sorted. They had hoped that an independent nation would ensure their security. In 1974, the Mujib government didn’t do very much except change the name of the Enemy Property Act. Communal people who had been opposed to the Liberation of Bangladesh were brought into power by Ziaur Rahman. He expunged secularism from the Constitution. And after this came Ershad with his movement for Islamic revivalism. On 22 December 1982 Ershad announced that henceforth Islam and the principles of the Koran would be the new basis of the Constitution of Bangladesh. Who had ever thought that even after the oppression in the name of religion for twenty-four years, religion would return so proudly into political life?’

  They stopped at a tea shop.

  ‘You seem very distracted,’ said Kajol Debnath, looking Suronjon up and down. ‘You are asking questions about matters you well know. Why? You’re obviously very agitated. Calm down, Suronjon. How will we manage if a talented young man like you feels such despair?’

  They sat a table facing each other.

  ‘Would you like something to eat?’ asked Kajol Debnath.

  Suronjon nodded. Yes, he would like to eat something. He ate two singaras. Kajol Debnath ate some too and then asked for water.

  Suronjon noted that Kajol used the Urdu ‘pani’ for water. At home, Debnath always said ‘jol’, the Bengali word for water. Did he say ‘pani’ at the tea shop because he had now got used to saying it? Or was it because he was scared? Suronjon wanted to know but desisted from asking. He thought that there were many people eyeing them suspiciously. He started drinking his tea fast. Was he afraid? Why was he so afraid now? He burnt his tongue as he hastily gulped the hot tea. There was a young man staring at them sharply from the next table; he sported a beard and wore a crochet skullcap. He was in his early twenties. Suronjon was almost certain that this man must have been part of the gang that took Maya away. Otherwise why was he listening so intently? Why was he so interested in them? Suronjon noticed that the young man was smiling to himself. Was he thinking ‘How are you now? We are playing some dreadful games with your sister!’

  Suronjon was unable to finish his tea. ‘Kajol da, let’s go. I’m not feeling good.’

  ‘What’s the rush?’

  ‘I’m not feeling good.’

  Part Ten

  One

  In 1954, there were 309 members in Parliament and of them, seventy-two were from minority communities. In 1970, of 300 members, eleven belonged to the minorities; in 1973 there were twelve from the minorities out of 315 members and in 1979, out of 330 members eight were from the minorities. In 1986, it was seven out of 330 members, in 1988 it was four, and in 1991 it was twelve out of 330 members. There were no brigadiers or major generals from any of the minorities in the Bangladesh army. Out of seventy colonels there was one from the minorities; there were eight lieutenant colonels out of a total of 450; forty out of 1000 majors; eight out of 1300 captains; three out of 900 second lieutenants; and 500 sepoys out of a total of 80,000. There were only 300 Hindus amongst 40,000 Bangladesh Rifles personnel; and only 2000 personnel belonging to the religious minorities in a police force of 80,000. No one from the minorities was there at the levels of additional inspector general or inspector general. The police had 870 officers and of them only fifty-three were from the minorities. People from the minorities were not appointed to high positions in the ministries of home, external affairs and defence, and neither were they found in senior positions in Bangladesh missions abroad. The secretariat presented a sorry picture too. There were no officers from the minority communities at the levels of additional secretary or secretary. There were three joint secretaries from the minorities out of a total of 134, of 463 deputy secretaries there were twenty-five from the minorities. In all the autonomous organizations combined there were 350 Grade I officers out of a total of 46,894 officers of the same grade. Not more than 5 per cent of the Grade I and II officers in the government and semi-government autonomous organizations were from the minorities. There was one amongst 152 in the department of customs and excise and eight out of 450 in income tax. In the public sector institutions 1 per cent of the officers belonged to the minorities: amongst other grades of staff they constituted 3 to 4 per cent and amongst workers less than 1 per cent. No bank, including the Bangladesh Bank, had a Hindu as director, chairman or managing director. In fact, none of the industrial banks had a Hindu as branch manager in any of its branches. In most cases, it was not possible to get a trade licence if there was no Muslim partner and it was a Hindu establishment. And such businesses did not get any loans from government-controlled banks or industrial institutions.

  Suronjon did not get any sleep all night. Kironmoyee had come to his room once in the morning. She had probably wanted to ask about Maya and whether anything was likely to happen or if that day too would be another day without Maya. In the past few days, Kironmoyee seemed to have lost all signs of life. She had dark circles under her eyes; there was a pinched look on her face. She had stopped smiling. Suronjon had remained in bed, lax and limp, feigning sleep. He had not wanted Kironmoyee to know that he was devastated. Kironmoyee went into his room twice a day and left food for him on the table, silently. Sometimes this made Suronjon very angry. Was she made of stone? Her husband was crippled, her daughter lost, and her son, for all practical purposes, was not there, and yet she was uncomplaining. Kironmoyee had an odd, uncomplaining, emotionless, still existence—she seemed dead.

  Suronjon decided that he was going to sleep all day. He needed to sleep. He had not slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes he felt like something terrifying was about to descend on him. It was as if scary hand-like apparitions were chasing him to strangle and suffocate him. There was no hope of finding comfort or peace.

  Two

  Nonigopal came from Manikganj with his wife, son and daughter. He was distantly related to Sudhamoy. He was not in the least bit surprised to see the damage done to Sudhamoy’s home. ‘So they didn’t spare your home either?’ he asked.

  Lolita, Nonigopal’s wife, had not only wiped the sindoor from her hair but had also covered her head. She clung to Ki
ronmoyee’s hands, pressed them against her bosom and sobbed. Lolita’s daughter was there too and looked like she wished to disappear. Sudhamoy could not recall her name. She looked like she was the same age as Maya, or maybe even a year or two younger. Sudhamoy stared fixedly at the young woman and his eyes filled with tears. Maya was not there. It was very hard for him to accept that Maya was not there. He liked to think that she was there next door, or had gone to teach her pupils and would be back in the afternoon. All of them were hoping against hope that Maya would be back—even if she had been raped, tortured and badly hurt.