That day ( the 9th May, 1993) was the day of the hoodlums. They soon took over the Secretariat. State’s Intelligence agency it seemed had no clue and presence of policemen was perhaps limited to a couple of non serious men in uniform, lazing around nearby betel shops.
Nearly a hundred hoodlums made forcible entry into the Chief Secretary’s office room. Those days, the room was too small even to accommodate twenty people. We then had Mr RN Das as Chief Secretary who was undoubtedly the most competent I had worked with after Mr Ramakrishnaya.
He was brutally assaulted, his office ransacked, furniture and equipment smashed. The hoodlums chose the time both of entry and departure. The worst could have happened that day to a most worthy civil servant of the state. The Home Secretary had spent an hour hiding himself under the table of his office room.
I was Finance Secretary. The unavoidable austerity measures Government had given effect to were emanating from the Finance Department. My staff had sensed the mood of the mob right. I could be the next target. I was whisked away into the room of an Additional Secretary made vacant and they kept me in perfect safety of the locked up room.
After sometime, the noise of the wild subsided and I pleaded that I be allowed to go to the Chief Secretary. My staff turned down the plea on ground of my safety. Through the window, I watched a few government vehicles being damaged. While that was bad enough, what made my head low in sheer indignity was the sight of about two sections of policemen running away as the hoodlums were chasing them.
Finally I came out of the room and went to see the Chief Secretary. I saw him in the office of the Chief Minister. His shirt was having blood at least at fifty places. Our eyes met and this noble man smiled at me and enquired if I was all right. I wiped my eyes and sat with him for sometime till he was escorted back home. The next day I found him perfectly normal and he told me that Cabinet Secretary had called, wished him well and suggested firm action.
The day after the incident, a different orderly peon opened the door when I got into my office room in the morning. I missed the familiar humble elderly orderly peon attached to me. He was missing; after three days I asked my private Secretary about him. He had been arrested by the police following the disturbance, I was told. ”How could this man? He would hesitate even to kill a blood sucking mosquito stinging his skin?’ I wondered. Maybe he refused to run away when the police were indulging in wild goose chase and searching the stable after the horses had bolted.
The genial man appeared after a week and respectfully bowed down with a smile. I was happy to see him back. “Why did the police take you?” I asked. His serene face had no trace of remorse, no sign of bitterness. “I was destined to go through a brief Raj-Dand’ he said, with a smile. I missed a few heartbeats. What is wrong with the race? Why does it react in this mysterious way? Why does one run to an Astrologer to find out why he has been falsely implicated in a case? Who has empowered the state to do injustice? These thoughts surged in and made me restless after the elderly man had quietly slipped out of my room to sit on his chair at the door.
Even after two decades, I see no withering away of the genetic(?) malfunction that keeps accepting blatant acts of state injustice as normal and accepts filial submission of a citizen to state’s arrogance as its bounden duty. How long will the race explain away such wild behavior of people in the government as the effect of Shani or Ketu? Why don’t we get used to Rule of Law and why do we not have a lesson or two on what Majesty of Law means? Why doesn’t even the educated class, including learned people in the legal business, realise that every violator of law can be prosecuted, including the Prime Minister and the Chief Minister?
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23rd August, 2015
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