Author: Chandan Mitra
Publication: The Pioneer
Date: November 10, 2002
I can quite visualise this scenario
actually unfolding one of these days: The police have encircled a group
of terrorists attempting to unleash a bloodbath in a public place - could
be the Parliament, a sports stadium, a shrine, a concert at India Gate,
the Supreme Court or even the office of a media organisation, for that
matter. The men in uniform are about to open fire when a beleaguered terrorist
yells out: "Stop. Dont shoot. First show me your NHRC permit. And, have
you informed the media? I dont see any TV cameras here. There are no journalists
covering this live. So, dont start shooting. If you kill us without NHRC
permission or media coverage, youll be in real trouble tomorrow." Pulverised
by the impact of this declamation, policemen quietly drop their weapons
and wait in stunned silence. Their officer tries desperately to contact
the National Human Rights Commission headquarters on his cellphone. Some
others start furiously dialing the offices of various 24-hour news channels
and certain English language dailies. The terrorists, grinning from ear
to ear, burst into an impromptu jig Chhod jayenge, ye galiyan, a derivative
of a song from the pro-terrorist Gulzar film, Maachis. They also raise
slogans like Justice Kerma Zindabad! Falana Kayar Zindabad! Dhikana Kidwai
Zindabad! They triumphantly board the vehicle they had stolen earlier in
the day, wave plastic Pakistani flags at benumbed onlookers and make good
their escape with élan.
Next days newspapers run huge reports
on the cowardice of the police amid massive pin-up size pictures of the
victorious terrorists. At a Press conference that afternoon, the police
chief deeply regrets the lapse on the part of his men. "We should have
obtained the NHRCs clearance to go after the terrorists," he apologetically
admits, disclosing that a dozen policemen have been suspended for this
terrible oversight. At a parallel media briefing, the NHRC chief roars,
twirling his salt-and-pepper moustache: "We have issued a blanket directive
to the police, para-military forces and the Army. You cannot touch any
terrorist without our prior consent in writing. You are not supposed to
interrogate or arrest them, especially if they are Pakistani nationals.
Pakistanis have human rights in India even if these are denied to them
in their own country. We are not Pakistan. Anybody found harassing terrorists
or violating their human right to kill shall be hauled over the coals,"
the former Mister Justice asserts. Then, he adds to good effect: "Ask some
of the journalists who had the misfortune of being arraigned before me,
about what I did to them."
Nearly 72 hours after the incident,
several "eye witnesses" start crawling out of various obscure crevices
of the city. "I was just a few kilometres away from the scene," one of
them frantically avers before whirring TV cameras. (Nobody asks him the
secret of the divya drishti that enabled him to monitor the event far away
from the scene). So he continues to ramble: "And I saw the way the police
were harassing some of those people. It was sickening. This wouldnt happen
in the States, you know. I was there last year visiting my co-brothers
second cousin who is an Environment Sanitisation Executive (read sweeper)
with Microsoft. There I saw the police simply punch a guy half-dead because
he was brown and sported a beard. They didnt intimidate the fellow with
guns. Now thats the civilised way of doing things. In India, the police
are uncivilised." His and various other "eye witnesses" accounts are thereafter
carried by newspapers and TV channels with wide prominence for days on
end.
In the Capitals cocktail circuit,
this is the only topic of conversation for about a week after the incident.
"Did you see those guys on TV yaar? They looked so innocent. How could
they be terrorists? These cops, you know, pick up anybody and want us to
believe they are terrorists. I tell you, the police are the biggest bunch
of murderers in our country," declaims a Fad-India kurta-sporting MNC operative.
"Youre dead right boss. That guy who yelled at the cops was so cute. Its
correct, No! The police cant catch anybody without NHRC clearance, can
they," asks a pretty not-so-young thing. At this point, a portly third
cocktailer piped up: "I am afraid Maam, that isnt the law yet, but should
be. My NGO has filed a PIL in the Supreme Court and Mr Hariman has taken
up our case. Well win, because Mr Hariman and Mister Justice are known
bum-chums. Also we have very good connections in the media. They have promised
to give front-page publicity to our case."
A soft dissenting voice whimpers
in the background: "Does that mean the police will have to line up outside
the NHRC office every day to get slips of paper signed by some babus before
they can catch a terrorist?" The NGO chieftain breaks into a guffaw: "Not
just that, somebody from the NHRC will have to accompany the police whenever
they want to pick up a terrorist. The NHRC will inform newspersons and
the police will have to take the entire English media along to record everything."
The doubting Thomas isnt convinced: "That might mean no terrorist will
ever get caught." The jholawala almost chokes on his double Scotch: "Arre
baba, that is the idea. Terrorists are a creation of the State. Why should
they be allowed to become the States victims?" The assembly bellows in
unison, "Exactly, exactly!" Buoyed by such extravagant support, the NGO
supreme drones on about how nationalism is a 19th Century idea and borders
have been rendered irrelevant in a 21st Century world. He vociferously
argues that India would have drifted into fascism in 1998 but for the stellar
performance of the Supreme Court, NHRC, Election Commission, and certain
honourable sections of the media. A celebrity journalist, present at the
gathering, is wildly feted for his consistent support for the cause of
"human rights", a support thats won him over two-dozen awards and quarterly
trips to Europe and the US. "We are very clear. The State is guilty unless
proven innocent. If, perchance, it is proven innocent, we carry the report
as a brief item on our 11th page," he announces amid applause. "But why
must you carry it at all," asks a coquettish, pallu-dropping woman: "Shouldnt
you just throw their denials into the waste-paper basket?" The journalist
replies with a characteristic one-liner: "Id love to. But we are a paperless
office and dont believe in environmental degradation. So we dont have waste-paper
baskets, you see!"
Just then, the NGO bosss cellphone
screeches voluminously and he listens with rapt attention for nearly a
minute. "Kya bakwas karte ho," he manages to bellow before the line gets
disconnected. Anxiously asked what the matter is, the ashen-faced man reveals
it was his servant on the line reporting that his Noida house was being
merrily burgled. Cutting short such inquisitive persons, he rushes into
a corner and starts furiously dialing various numbers. When he emerges
from the conversations, he is even more furious. "The b*******. Cops are
saying that the burglers are carrying a megaphone on which they have announced
that they arent robbers. They are terrorists. So the police cant do a thing
till NHRC gives them a permit. The f****** NHRC fellows are sleeping, wont
take calls till Monday. This bloody NHRC should be shot, the whole lot
of them..."
