Jewel-less Crown: Saga of Life, BS Murthy [cat reading book .txt] 📗

as well?’ he continued in remorse. ‘Now that I see it all in a fresh light, won’t the lingering thought of their trauma torment me forever? It seems insensitivity has its own advantages! But it is with the rungs of suffering that the ladder of reform is built, isn’t it? How wrong of me that I saw mom from the angle of my own wants! How am I to know if my expectations of her attentions were unsound? How stupid I was to grudge her on that count, and feel avenged by violating others! But, how distressed was she seeing me in distress! How she cried her heart out as though to wash my sin off my soul itself! Surely she loves me more than I ever thought she would.’

As he thought about his mother in a maternal mode, he seemed to experience a change in his understanding of her. ‘What’s her fault, after all?’ he thought melancholically. ‘She might have had her own compulsions of life, couldn’t she? How am I to know whether dad had measured up to her want or not? Or, who knows, she was probably indulging herself wantonly to satisfy his whim, or even to buttress his business, as the talk goes. Whatever it was, after all, they have a right to lead their life the way they wanted to, don’t they? Was it the fault of the parents if their children measure them on the scale of uprightness? Why should the onus be on the parents to live up to the pious images of them conjured up by the children? How silly that children fashion yardsticks for their parents, especially for the mother, without knowing what it is to be a grown-up! How fair is it for one to expect one’s mother to be asexual?’

‘Oh God, if only I had the sense to understand then!’ he thought in despair. ‘Would I have developed all those negative feelings for the fair sex? No way, and surely I wouldn’t have inflicted sexual hurt on all those, leave alone killing poor Shanti! How could I ever fault mom for her ways, when I violated women without qualms? If ever she comes to know that my psyche got buggered because of her, would she ever forgive herself? At least, I should spare her that last straw of guilt on her humiliated back. That much I owe to her.’

‘Thank God, Dr. Gupta is not a loose talk,’ he thought with a sense of relief. ‘I have his word that he will keep it all to himself. Surely he wouldn’t allow mom to get an inkling of my predicament. Oh, how the press pictures her as a slut as if the rest of her ilk is nunnish! Get caught, you're in the dock, if not, continue under the cloak. What irony scandal is?’

‘Why not I turn a new leaf in my life, ironically on lease by Mehrotra’s ruse?’ he thought at length. ‘What of the course correction then? Would I ever imagine hurting any in any manner whatsoever? But would that do to lead a useful life? Well, it’s constructive care that might help erase the debilitating effects of my negative past. What about lending a helping hand to the abused of the world? Maybe, eventually that might put me on the path of redemption, won’t it? God, give me the chance to live and have the conviction to make that my mission in life. Why let me dangle by the rope that I strangled Shanti in sickness? Why not put my life at stake to save another? Won’t Thou grant me this one favor O Lord?’

Suresh’s new found faith in the will of God made him take the maneuvers of Mehrotra with a pinch of salt.

‘Won’t his twisted means justify my upright ends?’ he tried to probe the rights and wrongs of the expected verdict. ‘Or would it be no more than a hoax? What of justice then? Whose justice is it anyway, but that of the statute? And won’t that vary from state to state! Isn’t it in itself a travesty of justice in our imperfect world? But then, who said that it is a just world? If not, why should nature condemn one species as food for another species? What justice is all that? Is it not absurd to suggest that man had evolved equitable laws while God failed to do so? No denying that, my violations on them would have traumatized many, but was it not my sick mind that was the cause of it all? What was worse, it was Shanti’s ranting that provoked me to resort to the crime. Yet her abuse would have been passé for many. But given my psyche, that touched my raw nerve, didn’t it? Whatever, how agonized I am that I had unfairly caused her death! It’s as if the courts can’t account for the penitence of the accused in meting out the punishment. Now that I’m repenting, am I not entitled for a reprieve?’

‘After all, what should be an equitable punishment to a given crime?’ he thought in the same vein. ‘Well, it’s the question that confronts societies. Didn’t it appear logical for long that the offender is subjected to the same hurt he inflicted upon the victim? But, hasn’t a tooth for a tooth and an eye for an eye become out of tune with the sensibilities of our times? A lost tooth or a blind eye would still keep life going for the victim and the violator alike. Wouldn’t the gallows for the murderer deprive life for them both? How to deal with the crime and punishment within the boundaries of life and death is the moot point. Won’t that depend on the proclivities of the one who comes to dispense justice? How lucky, if my case is heard by him who believes that life behind bars would meet the ends of justice. God forbid what if it’s the conviction of the one in the chair that the cause of justice demands the throat of the culprit! Won’t that make him or her murderer of sorts with the judicial tool of a rope?’

‘What could be the rationale behind the capital punishment!’ he thought in despair. ‘What is it that is sought to be gained by depriving me of my life? Are they not making out that it’s the rope to my throat that leads the victim’s family to the realms of justice? If only my death could resurrect Shanti, would not I have willingly walked up to the gallows by now? And is it not a specious argument that Shanti’s soul would not rest in peace if I am alive? Does it not amount to vilification of her character for it implies the retributive nature of her soul? Well, this public clamor for the capital punishment is nothing but the manifestation of man’s own savagery. I killed her when I lost my cool but in all calmness these seek my death. How would the public ever grasp the nuances of a given violation to air an opinion?’

‘What could be the fear of the society to leave me alive?’ he thought in the end. ‘If it seems women wouldn’t remain safe with me around, then why not I be jailed for life? Won’t that let women see the back of me while I may still look forward to whatever little life has to offer me? If my repentance makes a better soul of me, why should I be prevented from joining the mainstream all again? It’s not that the planet is full of nice guys out to reach out to the people at large! That way, how it gets lost on the law that the society has nothing more to lose, and may even gain for my reformist zeal. Why, won’t making me dangle by the rope mean denying me the chance to change? More to the point, the society would be deprived of a decent citizen that is after I would be through the jail drill. As I intend to help the outraged, won’t that amount to saving a life to serve some others? And that would make my acquittal just in itself, wouldn’t it? Thus, my urge to lead a useful life should make Mehrotra’s dubious methods for my acquittal upright. Would it not make a case of ends justifying the means?’

‘What if I am sent to the gallows after all that?’ he couldn’t help but think. ‘But then, aren’t there two sides to the same coin? In a way, is not death preferable to the life of a lifer with all its attendant deprivations? Seen that way, death row is any day a better option for it entails a short stay. What about the dread of climbing up the gallows? After all, it is the love to live that lets man fear the noose. When one is reconciled to death, then it should be much less a bodily pain than one might have endured in life, isn’t it?’

 

Chapter 4

Twist at Tees Hazari

 

The concerned and the curious alike thronged to the gates of Tees Hazari to witness the trial of the Mehrauli Murder Case. As the doors were thrown open that morning, everyone jostled to reach the designated courtroom for a vantage position. The crowd was seemingly dying to see the accused and his mother.

Partly addressing their curiosity, Gautam walked in with a posse of lawyers led by Mehrotra. As they took much of the front row, the gathering, though felt let down by Sneha’s absence, looked forward to Suresh’s arrival with bated breath. Thus, calm reigned in the courtroom until the clock struck ten when Suresh was brought in. And agog with excitement, the crowd rose as one man. The commotion continued for long with people falling over each other for a better view of the handsome youth. Used as he was to the trials involving celebrities, the daftari felt he had never seen such a disorder in the courtroom before. But as he yelled out for order before ushering in Justice Ms. Sumitra Choudhary, it was pin drop silence.

As the father and the son couldn’t take their eyes off each other, the crowd could discern the pathos of the former and the agony of the latter. In vain, Suresh’s eyes sought for Sneha, and Gautam’s gaze seemed to solicit an understanding on her behalf. Before Gautam could gesticulate to his son to relax, Justice Choudhary entered the arena to take her exalted seat. Even as the assembly rose to a man to fulfill the norm, Suresh bowed to her as though to his destiny. As the Justice took the chair, Pradeep Paranjape, the Public Prosecutor, got up to present the case of the prosecution.

Having received her nod, Paranjape was unequivocal in his eloquent condemnation of the accused.

“Ms. Justice, this is an open and shut case of kidnap, rape and murder, committed by the accused, Mr. Suresh Prabhu, the vagabond son of the formidable Mr. Gautam Prabhu. In this regard, I would like to draw the attention of this court to the F.I.R No. 420/1974 of the South Extension police station, New Delhi. The written complaint of Mr. Saurav Swaroop, the father of Ms. Shanti Swaroop, the murdered woman, is enclosed with the F.I.R.

Ms. Justice might peruse from the Exhibit No. I that at 10 PM on 31 December 1974, Mr. Saurav Swaroop went to the police station to lodge a ‘missing person’ complaint regarding the disappearance of his nineteen-year-old daughter Ms. Shanti. In the said complaint received by Mr. Pramod Rawal, the Station House Officer, Mr. Swaroop had clearly stated that his daughter, Ms. Shanti, habitually returns home by seven in the evening. But on that fateful day, she failed to reach home even by nine. When he failed to trace her at any of the likely places, he feared for her life at the worst and harm to her limb at the least. Then, he went to