46
Next day morning, Badri stepped out from his house and rode his bicycle to go for his work. A few meters away on a lonely stretch a motorbike with a driver and a pillion gave a hard push to his bicycle from behind. Badri fell down on the ground and suddenly words of filth came from his mouth looking at them. This was enough to raise the tempers of the two and they started beating him with their fists. One of them grabbed Badri's throat and began striking him in the head and body with his helmet. The men pummeled the victim harder when he tried to defend himself, and soon two other men with hockey sticks entered the scene to join in the beating. They bet him black and blue with the sticks, striking repeatedly on his legs and hands with their weapon with the intent of breaking his bones. Soon, a few of rickshaw pullers were seen trickling in on the spot. By that time Badri had lost consciousness. Seeing them, the attackers fled but before fleeing they emptied Badri's pocket of his money and his mobile phone. Soon, a police control van reached the spot and took Badri to an area hospital where he was treated for multiple fractures, contusions and lacerations. After a few hours he weakly opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital surrounded by a couple of police officers and nurses around.
"Why did they beat you to a pulp?" asked one of the officers.
"I think I had abused them when they had hit my bicycle with their motorcycle from behind," Badri replied feebly.
"Will you be able to recognize the persons?" asked the officer.
"Yes, I'll try," replied Badri with tears trickling down on his pale face because of pain.
"Okay, we'll come in the evening with a few photographs. So be alert and help us to find the culprits," said the officer getting up from the chair.
Badri nodded his head in affirmation. In the evening the same police personnel came to visit him with a few pictures in their hands.
"Hello, how are you now?" asked one of them.
"Not good," replied Badri sobbing with pain.
"Don't worry, you'll be alright soon and now I'll show you a few photos and just tell us if you recognize any of them," the officer was sympathetic in his tone.
After viewing four pictures of different goons and shaking his head in denial, suddenly he cried out in affirmation on seeing the fifth picture which was that of Radhey.
"I think I have seen him somewhere a few days back. Let me remember where I have seen him."
Badri clasped his head and closed his eyes as if trying to remember. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, "Oh!! Yes, I've seen him with Ramu standing right opposite to my house a few days back trying to hide himself behind the lamp post. But yes, definitely I can recognize him. He was the one, who had first attacked me with his helmet and then with a hockey."
"Who's Ramu, and do you know where does he stay?" Suddenly the officer jumped into action. Badri told him about Ramu's whereabouts and both the policemen left hurriedly after hearing from him. They arrived at Ramu's house in a few minutes on their motorbike. On reaching, they started knocking the door loudly but without any response. Then one of the policemen gave a hard push to the door and it opened wide with a creaking noise. There sat Ramu on the floor with the half emptied liquor bottle and a glass in his hand. Ramu was astonished to see the policemen in the room and gave a startled look to them. He even tried to get up, but his inebriated steps faltered.
"Do you know Radhey?" asked a policeman in a stern tone.
On hearing the name 'Radhey', Ramu started trembling with fear. All his drunkenness evaporated and stammering he replied, "Yes, I know him."
The policeman caught him tightly with his strong hand and started pulling him outside.
"You'll have to accompany us to the police station," thundered he.
Dragging him out, they made him sit in the middle of the pillion. Hearing the uproar, Ramu's immediate neighbor, the widow aunty came out. Before she could react, the policemen took away Ramu. This all happened within ten minutes.
At 9pm Gauri returned home and was astonished to see the liquor bottle and glass on the floor and Ramu not to be seen anywhere inside the room. She thought he must have gone to the washroom opposite their house to relieve himself. She sat down on the bed to relax, when suddenly the next door aunty entered the room.
"Ramu has been arrested and taken to the police station by a couple of policemen who forcefully took him away," announced the old lady in an alarming tone.
Gauri stood up immediately from the bed she was sitting on and was all ready to visit the police station.
"Don't go alone, I'll accompany you," said the old woman.
Both the women hired a cycle rickshaw and headed to the police station which was nearly two kilometers from their house. On entering the police station they were surprised to see Ramu in the lock up crying with pain as he had been thrashed badly by the police officers.
"Yes, who are you and what are you here for?" thundered a constable on seeing the two ladies entering the police station.
"I have come to take my husband home. What has he done that you have put him behind the bars?" Gauri spoke with fear writ large on her face.
"He had given a 'supari' to one of the goons to get Badri beaten up. You can't take him home because today, being a Saturday, he'll be produced before a magistrate only on Monday who will decide about his fate. Till then he'll remain in custody. You just don't know what those goons have done to an innocent man, Badri. How mercilessly he had been beaten black and blue without any fault of his," replied the police officer.
Gauri and the old lady returned home empty handed. That night Gauri couldn't sleep properly as the painful cries of Ramu kept on echoing in her ears. She kept on tossing and turning in the bed and never knew when she drifted away to sleep. Next morning at 10am she suddenly got up from her slumber when the sun's rays hit her eyes from the open window. Hurriedly she made herself breakfast and got ready to go to her work, but suddenly remembered that it was a Sunday, a weekly off for the store. In around an hour, she called upon her neighbor aunty and asked her to accompany her to the police station to meet and see Ramu.
On reaching the police station, she straight went to the office of the Station House Incharge (S.H.O.). He, on seeing her, suddenly burst out in his heavy tone, "Ooooo!!! Madam!!! Your husband will definitely remain behind the bars for another 10-12 years as Badri has died last night from internal bleeding following that severe attack. Even the post mortem results have put his death to hemorrhaging as a result of multiple blunt force trauma. The autopsy reports confirmed what we suspected. The only way someone could end up with injuries like those is if they were badly beaten up. He had bruises all over his body. It looked like he was badly assaulted. And now the charge has been changed from an inquest to murder and your husband is a part of it."
"But why don't you arrest the culprits who did all this? Ramu was home at that time when all this happened," questioned Gauri, trying to be bold in her voice.
"Oooooo Madam, you don't worry about other beings. They too will be arrested in a day or two. We have already informed the Uttar Pradesh Police about them. And mind it, your husband has confessed to giving Radhey, that goon, twenty thousand rupees to break the bones of that poor Badri. So, he's the main culprit, cause why should the goons act on their own. They do these things for money only and Ramu had financed them," shouted the S.H.O. at her.
Hearing this, Gauri silently left for home. From the very next day, she started with her daily routine of going for her work as nothing had happened. Ramu was produced in the courts, and the judge pronounced him guilty awarding him a sentence of twelve years accusing Ramu to be a part of that heinous crime which had led to the murder of an innocent person.
Years passed and over to in the sleepy village of Shamli, Sitara, the daughter of Tara and Ramu completed her intermediate education from Una district. After earning a bachelor's degree from Simla's renowned college, she moved to Chandigarh where she obtained her masters in English literature from Punaj University, with the state government funding her education from the scholarships she had earned by studying hard and always topping the university.
Six months later, Sitara decided to attempt the civil services examination and qualified for the interview round. When she appeared for the next round of the exam, she was discouraged from joining the Indian Administrative Services (IAS) by the distinguished board which interviewed her. The board was headed by the chairman of the UPSC. Instead, the foreign services and the central services were offered to Sitara, as they were more suitable for 'women'. They were somehow convinced inside their hearts that she would be unable to handle law and order situations, if and when they arose. So, instead of the charge of a district sub-collector, she was offered a post in the secretariat. But for Sitara, who had undergone training in horse riding, rifle and revolver shooting and in using magisterial powers, knew that she was at par with her male counterparts. For the second time in her fledgling career, she fought for a chance to prove herself, arguing that she was equally competent to men in handling any situations that might arise as a part of her job.
Eventually she was posted as a sub-collector in the Una district and her own village Shamli coming under her jurisdiction. As a sub-collector of Una, when she visited her village in a jeep surrounded by four of her security guards, she was cheered by the village folks where ever she went. The village women just walked around her, looking at her in awe. Suddenly an old lady said, "She looks just like one of us. She is Tara's daughter who stays at the other end of the village." It was then, that Sitara realized their disappointment and knew that people expected something different from a woman who had made it as an officer of such a high grade.
Later, as the times passed her administrative brilliance fetched her widespread respect in the official circles as it was her thoughtfulness that endeared her deeply to the common man. A couple of years passed of Sitara holding her post. She had been allotted an official bungalow with all the facilities of a telephone, car, driver and personal servants by the authorities in the Rakkar area of Una which had by then become the new face of modern urban well planned, neat and clean city with all the advanced facilities like banks, best hotels, and showrooms etc.
One day, as she was enjoying a total free day for herself basking the sun in her private garden when Tara silently came and sat in the adjoining reclining chair.
"Sitara, I want to talk to you on something very important issue, but you never have the time to even sit with your Ma for some time," Tara said complainingly.
"It's not that Ma. You just talk it over today as you can see that I'm totally free now and enjoying sitting in the sun," Sitara replied laughing.
"Look here daughter, you have grown up now and I want you to get married so that I become free of my duties as your mother," Tara said hesitatingly.
"Wow Ma, I was even thinking of that a few days back. If I marry, it will be with my colleague, my batchmate and my sweetheart Kabir who will in another one year become the principal secretary revenue. So, I can wait till then," Sitara looked at Tara smiling.
"But how can you wait and waste one more year of your life like this?" Tara said showing apprehension in her spoken words.
"Ma, he's worth waiting for," Sitara said with fondness about a man in whom she found exceptional humane qualities.
"Okay, as you please," Tara bowed down to her daughter's wishes.












