Court Martial

The Chinese whispers started at least three weeks before it actually happened. My classmates spoke about it in hushed tones while standing in line during the practice of the much-hated ceremonial parade on a chilly morning.
We would curse everybody from the platoon commander to the Dham Sevak for dragging us out of our warm quilts onto the ice-cold grass. The temperature would make us shiver every time we would try to stand in one place for a long time — never mind the half-sleeve sweaters that we often wore under our shirts. We would nudge each other and keep on talking about it while the platoon commander would stand in front of us, his eyes fixed on the Vidyapith commander.
Once in a while, our PT teacher Ashokda would look towards our direction trying to figure out from where the murmurs are coming from. In most cases, he would fail to locate the centre-point of the murmurs as the commanders would go on with the same exercise of the annual day march-past that we had been taking part for the past three years. Who was interested in it anyway? That too when on the same day we would have to face all our seniors and juniors in the gymnasium that would be packed to the tee? It was time for that dreaded day again.
We had named it Vidyapith Court Day.

We were told that someone was tabulating all the sins that we had committed all through the year and that will be the judgment day for us. We were told that the sevaks, as we called the monitors, had tabulated each and every sin in a large register book that was kept in safe custody of the Sadan Warden. The sevaks had actually taken turns to enter the names of the ‘sinners’ every night for the past six months. We were told that none of our sins had actually escaped the attention of the Sevaks — be it stacking unwashed clothes into our trunks or dozing off in the study hall — they were all neatly listed in that dreaded register.
Five of us — who were more than sure that we would top the list — met after dinner near the dining hall of Shivananda Sadan. As one of us carefully jotted down our action plan, we went on plotting. The agenda of the meeting was simple: ensure that our names were struck off from the register before D-day. The action plan was even more simple: Locate the guy who was entering the name of the sinners into the Vidyapith court logbook. Then use the best method known to us — buy a dozen of Five Star chocolate bars from the Vidyapith store and give them to him. Though we knew that it was easier said than done but nevertheless, the action plan seemed workable. We divided ourselves into two groups. One would try to locate the person and the other would convince him. We all decided to buy two Five Star bars each. One of us very graciously agreed to contribute two more Five Star bars to the fund as he could afford it. We had only sixty rupees to spend but that was the end of the month and our Vidyapith Bank account was empty.
The meeting didn’t last for more than 15 minutes because we had to get back to our Dhams in time before the third bell. And the third bell meant that a sevak would come and switch the lights off — never mind, you were not sleepy at all and tossing from one side to the other thinking of your role in the action plan and how you were going to achieve your target. You listen to the snoring orchestra that emerges a little later as you look out of the window — not thinking about anything in particular.

Days later, our action plan seemed to be failing as the guy who had entered our name in the register turned out to be the Head Sevak and he was in no mood to talk to any of us. By that time we had another round of late night meetings and tweaked our action plan a little — we decided to bribe the best friend of the head sevak rather than the sevak himself — he seemed too concerned about saving his job than saving his classmates. There was another problem — we had got 12 Five Star bars alright but one of us who was in charge of the chocolate bars, had eaten three. When we confronted him, he became emotional.
“I was hungry after playing and my stomach started growling in hunger. And when I opened my cupboard, there were these 12 Five Star chocolate bars staring at me…I just ate three. I promise I am going to buy four in return. I know how important those chocolate bars are for us….”
Okay, we got back into the third session of our late night meeting near the dining hall. Vidyapith Court Day was just 78 hours away and we needed desperate measures now…
By that time, information about the register had leaked to one of our friends and he had confirmed that three of us topped the list.
“Your parents will be called. You will be asked to clean the latrines, dining hall and collect leaves from the fields. I don’t know, one of you might be rusticated too — the sins are too grave to let you guys continue studying here. I have heard **** Maharaj say that yesterday. It’s going to be bad for three of you. You better start packing your bags…”
The ‘good guy’ of the class told us this while walking past. By that time, the whole class had talking about our late night meetings before the third bell. We realized that this was our last meeting. We had better do something by tomorrow… There was simply no time.

I decided to approach the Sadan Head Sevak’s best friend with the bribe — I felt like a martyr but I thought if I couldn’t do this for my friends and why was I in this world? Profound thought…but difficult to put it in action.
The next afternoon, I stood beside the playground where the Head Sevak’s best friend was playing. It was a cricket match and he was fielding near the third man boundary.
“Anirban, I need to talk to you.”
“For what?”
“Just like that.”
“I don’t talk to people just like that. We will talk after four days.”
“No. I need to talk to you now. In fact, right now.”
“I don’t like your tone.”
“I just need to talk to you.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?”
“I need you to ask Mondol strike off five names from the Vidyapith Court register.”
Anirban turned back, walked out of the field, came close to me and looked into my eyes. He was much taller I was and I had already started to feel intimidated.
“And can you tell me why would I do that?”
I took my hand out of my right pocket —- I was holding on to six Five Star bars and the bulge in my left pocket said it all — the other six chocolate bars were there.
“I heard that you guys might do something like that but I never thought that you, of all people, would have the guts to do something like that.”
I had started trembling as Anirban looked down and paused for nearly a minute. I almost had my heart in my mouth. He then smiled and finally started to speak…
“Give them to me— all of them.”
I was delighted. I was the happiest man in this world. I immediately took out all the bars from my pockets and handed them over to him. He painstakingly counted the chocolate bars like currency notes.
“Go. Your job will be done.”
I didn’t even have the time to thank him. I ran to my classmates who were standing at a distance underneath a tree.
“I have done it!”
They all shook my hand. They actually took turns to shake my hand. I knew I was a hero. I knew that I have done something to be proud of.
After lunch we all gathered in the gymnasium. There was a podium that had been created on a wooden platform. There were three seats on it. On the back, all our wardens and even our headmaster, sat. This was the day when whole world would know that who the bad boys in the school were.
I was not tensed at all. We were all sitting together and cracking corny jokes. I had a bar of Five Star in my hand. Who cared as long as we were not in the dock?
The three sevaks walk in with a long register. Half of it appeared to be full of scribbling. But then, who was bothered about that copy as long as my name was not on the list.
Headmaster Maharaj came up and stood in front of us. It was time for another hour-long speech, we expected.
But it was unexpectedly short. Not more than five minutes.
The Head Sevak opened the copy and took out a chit of paper from inside it.
“Before going on to the list of students who have faulted in their day-to-day activities, let me first talk about this…there is this guy from class five E section. His name is Soumyadipta Banerjee. I can see him sitting there (he pointed at me). He has committed the most gravest of crimes. I have never told about it to anybody until today because I wanted to announce it in front of everybody…he wanted to bribe me to strike his name off the Vidyapith Court register. I would ask him to come in front of everybody and seek forgiveness from Headmaster Maharaj as well as all his fellow classmates and juniors…”
I got up. My eyes have welled up with tears. My legs were so heavy that taking each step seemed like scaling the inclines of Mount Everest. I felt all eyes fixed on me as I trudged from the flanks to come on to the stage.
There I stood in front of all my classmate and juniors.
A hero-turned-villian.
All I managed was a “namaskar”.
I quietly went back to my seat as Headmaster Maharaj kept on staring at me. That was the worst day of my life.
Later, I ran out of the ‘courtroom’ and ran back to my hostel. I pounced on my bed. I screamed …

The receptionist called my extension. She said that a fifty-plus man was waiting for me in the visitors’ room. It had been two hours that he had been there. He had come when I had gone for an editorial meeting with the chief of bureau.
It was a meeting that was called by me.
I had gathered enough proof that a section of the babus in a government department was bribed by a rich contractor to pass his payment before the due date. The amount of the bribe was about Rs 1 crore and it was divided unequally among five colleagues in the department. After going through the papers, my editor agreed to put it on the front page of the newspaper but asked for a photocopy of the documents. I had gathered the documents from an IAS officer who had leaked the news to me so that he was able to sack these five government clerks when he put under pressure “by the media”. That would ensure that the workers’ union would not interfere in his decision.
As I walked into the visitors’ room, the man stood up, his hands were folded and he held them close to his bosom.
“Sir, I have heard a lot about you. I saw you on TV the other day explaining the Behala murder case…”
“Thank you so much. Please come to the point… I have to go back to work.”
“Sir my name is Abinash Majumder… I have two daughters to marry off. One of them is already engaged and she will get married next month. Here is the marriage invitation card sir…”
I looked up at the man. Abinash Majumder was the man who had received Rs 20 lakh from the contractor. He was one of the men who had passed the file and offered to bribe the head clerk and the accountant. Abinash Majumder received the least amount of money from the contractor but he had encouraged others to take the bribe.
“Sir, I am as old as your father… I have never had a scratch on my 25-year-old service record. Sir, please help me…I am sure you can help by not printing my name in the paper. I know that you have got the news about how the contractor’s payment was released. Sir, my daughter’s marriage will break off…”
The man bent down to touch my feet as I leapt backwards…I could see him crying…and I could sense that this man had never committed a crime in his life…
“Sir, not only I will lose my job but I will be arrested. Please try and understand. I am sure everybody commits at least one crime in their life. Don’t I deserve a chance to correct myself? Didn’t your teachers give you a chance to correct yourself when you used to go wrong?”
I stepped back.
“Sorry sir. I can’t help.”
Sometimes there are no second chances.