Justice Delivered: English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki; Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

Justice Delivered: English Short Story

  Author: Deepak Budki

 Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat 

That day an unusual thing happened. He greeted and hugged me in the middle of the road and I kept looking at him with great astonishment. He looked straight into my eyes, then said, “Hearty Congratulations! You have cleared the Civil Services Examination. This is a matter of great pride for all of us.” His gestures appeared both affected and stagy.

Then he turned to his wife who was standing beside him and told her, “Ah! He had to waste five precious years of his life in our wretched Corporation. I was, however, sure he will make it one day and become a gazetted officer in the Government. See my prophecy has come true!”

He again looked at me with hope and expectation and after a few moments invited me for a cup of tea at the Grand Hotel which was nearby.

My astonishment doubled. For five years we had worked together in the same office. Several times I had visited his office chamber for some work but he never talked so warmly nor did he call for a cup of tea. He always put up a long face as if he was facing the worst times of his life. Seeing him now, I started thinking, "What has befallen this man that he is showering so much affection on me today? Maybe he is trying to impress his wife with his high-ranking friend circle, or.... maybe he is looking for a match in me for a girl of his near relation. These little things do in fact turn one to behave erratically. 

While having tea we talked about many subjects, the Corporation, state politics, our personal lives, and many other things. Meanwhile, his wife stole some glances at me and smiled occasionally. Her smile seemed to enhance the sweetness of the tea. She was a buxom woman in her naughty thirties.

A few days passed. One day Jagannath accompanied by his wife arrived at my office and both took seats across the table in front of me. Immediately after he comforted himself he came out with the purpose of his visit saying, “We have come to you for some favour.”

“What can I do for you, please let me know.”

“My brother-in-law, Harji Lal works in your department and is presently on frontier posting in Gurez.  His tenure will be over within a month and his transfer orders are expected anytime.”

“That’s good. Where do you want him to be posted? Near his home, I suppose?”

“That’s the tragedy, brother! He is an eccentric person. Has made a hell of our life.” His wife spoke in between.

“He has illicit relations with his elder brother’s wife and prefers her company oftentimes. Unbelievable and Strange, isn't it?  But that is what it is. He has brought disgrace to the whole family. He has distanced himself from his wife, often sends her to the parental house while he himself enjoys with his sister-in-law.”

“That’s very loathsome!” I said looking into his piercing feline eyes.

“I want that Harji Lal is posted far away from this city. Two years ago he managed to get his divorce order from the subordinate court and has applied for the custody of his child now. Imagine a mother being denied proximity of her child whose pain she has borne for nine months.”

“Usually the custody of the child is given to his mother, the father cannot be awarded his or her custody. That is natural justice.”

“He has deposed in the court through his lawyer that his ex-wife has no means of income and hence she will not be able to provide for and care for the child. Moreover, the child is no longer dependent on his mother’s milk. It looks like he has greased the palm of the Judge to get a decision in his favour. We do not want his posting anywhere in this city so he may not be able to attend hearings in the case regularly. The case will thus get prolonged and maybe by the time the child will attain maturity and state his own choice in the court.”

“That is a better solution. I understand your problem. I’ll post him at a place wherefrom he will have to travel a great distance that will take him a day or two to reach Srinagar.”

Both of them left for their home fully satisfied. Afterwards, it occurred to me, "Won't it be irrational to form an opinion on the basis of what I was told by these people? It is just one side of the story. Their assertions may be tailored to suit their own vested interests and not based on truth. Believing them and deciding the fate of my subordinate on their half-truths may mean a miscarriage of justice. I must hear the other side too."

My doubts were reasonable, so I decided to consult some senior officials and union leaders who may be knowing Harji Lal personally. It would be possible to extract the truth from them or at least get corroborated the assertions made by the couple. I was able to gather some tidbits of information and piece them together. One Union leader, a well-learned Hindu, lay the entire blame at the door of Harji Lal. I could feel that he had a soft corner for women folk as is usual in such matters because Hindus expect a cent per cent fidelity of men towards their spouses. Later in the day, I met a Muslim Union leader who knew Harji Lal so well that he burst out with emotions, "You Hindus are all the same. You want the men to be like galley slaves. No escape even if the wife is a witch." He gave me some important clues about the case like how the in-laws of Harji Lal have constantly hounded him, how they had been influencing my predecessors for keeping him out of this city and how he has been suffering from gastric ulcers in far-flung areas. I was moved and almost tearful. I sent an unofficial message through him to Harji Lal asking him to meet me at my residence during the coming holidays.

After about fifteen days there were a few consecutive holidays including the weekend. On the last day of the holidays which was a Sunday, I was all alone in my house. My wife had gone to her parent’s house along with the children. Early in the morning, somebody pressed the call bell at the outer gate. I was still lying in my bed. I thought it may either be a newspaper hawker or milkman seeking payment of their monthly bills. So I hurriedly put on my tweed Pheran (a smock-like apparel worn by Kashmiris) and opened the gate. Harji Lal stood before me.

I took him to the large room on the ground floor which we used for receiving and entertaining guests. You may call it a drawing room though it never looked like one. Devoid of any furniture, the floor of the room was furnished all over with locally woven straw mats commonly known as 'Patej' which were covered by pressed cotton felt rugs called ‘Namdahs’ in local parlance. A few long barrel-shaped bolsters and pillows lined up against one wall to recline on while sitting. In an average Kashmiri house, there is generally no tradition of sitting in chairs and sofas though the rooms are spacious. The guests are received in a large room called Baithak and all sit on the floor with thick warm flooring to stop the cold coming from underneath and recline against large long bolsters and pillows for comfort.

“I’ve come to meet the Sahab Bahadur, he has called me for a meeting,” Harji Lal informed me. He was at a loss guessing where he had landed up as he could not find any semblance of a house of an IPS Officer. He was not able to place me as well as he could hardly expect his Sahab Bahadur to be in a pheran.

“You are Harji Lal? It is I who called you. Sit here, I have to talk about something special with you.”

“Is it you, Sir? I am sorry I couldn’t recognize you. I have never seen you before. I am extremely sorry, Sir. Hope you will pardon me.” 

“No reason for asking pardon. Make yourself comfortable.” By the time I too sat informally by his side on the floor.

“I have called you here to gather some information about your personal life if you wish to share. I have heard your in-laws' side of the story and now I would like to hear it from you. If you like to throw some light on your relationship with your wife and recount your personal hardships, it can facilitate me to reach a proper and just conclusion. I don’t want to make a decision based on what has been stated by one side only.”

He was totally astonished to find me as his boss besides being overawed by the environment around him. However, on the other hand, it helped us to bridge the gap of strangeness immediately and develop familiarity among ourselves. He was able to shun his shyness and inertia in communication. Harji Lal had thought he was going to meet an IPS Officer, he would have to wait for God knows how much time to get an audience and then face many strange questions but the situation that he faced here was quite different and encouraging for him. He never expected such informality from a person who had power in his hands and who had the authority to do or undo things in his favour.  

I tried to comfort him further with some more assuring words to make him feel that I was his well-wisher and not in any way harmful to his interests so that he could satisfactorily have full trust in me.

He once again looked around to feel reassured and then spoke, “Sir, the truth of the matter is that I lost my parents in my childhood. My brother and his wife treated me as their own son and never gave me an occasion to feel that I was an orphan. After completing my education my sister-in-law diligently arranged for my wedding and with a lot of hope brought my wife into the house. Before I could settle down with my marital affairs I found that my wife was made up of completely different stuff. She could not reconcile with my brother and sister-in-law in any manner. From the very first day in my house, she converted it into a battlefield and started fighting with my brother's wife. She quarrelled with her on all petty issues so fiercely that our neighbours had to often intervene. She never appreciated the fact that my brother and sister-in-law have been no less than father and mother to me and it was only because of them that I was able to stand on my feet. I soon came to realize that her only aim was to get me separated from them and snap all relations with my brother and his family.”

“I don’t think there was anything wrong about it because most of women nowadays prefer to be independent and want to live their own life without anybody's interference,” I interjected cutting short his talk in the middle.

“You are right, Sir, but one has to give due respect to those who deserve it and have substantial consideration for traditions in the family. She cannot simply lash out and abuse those who have sustained me all my life and I have treated them as my parents. She stooped so low as to accuse me of having illicit relations with my mother-like sister-in-law. That was the height of things and quite unbearable to me as one whom I worshipped as my mother should be blamed as such.”

“Harji Lal! The circumstances you are in and what you describe can easily prove you guilty irrespective of whatever the facts may be.” I took to somewhat harder stance to eke out some more critical information. “You continued to be carefree about your duly wedded wife and lived with your brother and sister-in-law. Your wife had to often go to her parental home, you neither stopped her from going nor ever went there to bring her back. On the contrary, you lived comfortably with your sister-in-law. She always took care of you. What inference can one draw from this account of yours on a rational basis?”

“Sir, you are looking only at one side of the matter. No man would like his wife to stay at her parents and himself to waste his youth alone in his room. Notwithstanding no sane person would like to live with such a venomous serpent in the guise of a woman. As regards my living with my brother may I know where else do I go? This is our parental home and both I and my brother are equal shareholders. My sister-in-law treats me like her own son and feeds me as she feeds her own children. They have been looking after me since my early childhood and will continue to do so in the future. She often cries bitterly looking at my condition and blames herself for it, saying, "It was because of me that you had to suffer that hag." Suppose I part with my brother but tell me, Sir, how can I trust a woman who may ditch me any time in future without rhyme or reason?”

“You are right but sometimes one has to compromise and accept such undesirable circumstances.”

“Compromises are done only when there are faults on the part of both partners and each one shows a willingness to amend his or her conduct in the future. Here the situation is miserable. I am a victim of the worst exploitation and cruelty. The last few years have been pathetic for me. My health conditions have deteriorated considerably because of the mental stress that I experienced. Gastric ulcers have formed due to excessive acid formation in my stomach. I had to undergo major surgery in the hospital a few years back.” Harji Lal suddenly lifted his shirt off his front body to show me more than a foot-long scar on his abdomen due to the operation. “Sir, I was in the hospital for one month and it was only due to the care of my brother and sister-in-law that I survived otherwise I would have died since. My wife never tried to see me in the hospital even once.”

“Don’t say that. God always makes an alternative arrangement for every creature to survive. Incidentally, was your divorce approved by the court at that time? ”

“No Sir, I was hoping that she will realize her mistake and return. We have a son as well. It is in fact only this hope that kept me going on. I thought my own blood will become animated someday and look out for his father and also force his mother to return to her husband but she poisoned his ears so bitterly that such a thought never occurred to him while on the contrary he also turned against me. It was only after this disclosure that I decided to apply for divorce.”

“I understand, such circumstances are gradually shaped like that.”

“Sir, I want to tell you a secret that I’ve been holding close to my chest for many years. I have not revealed it to anyone not even to the court.” He once again moved his eyes around the room lest someone else might be spying on their talks or ears might have grown in the walls of the room and maybe listening to what he was saying. After gaining confidence, he continued, “I have not divulged this secret to anybody so far but want to disclose it before you as I have developed a strange familiarity and closeness with you, Sir.”

“You can say everything without fear. I’ll closely guard your secret.” 

“Sir, if you do not mind, sometimes just walk down your lane between 3 to 5 pm and as you hit the road you can see a Chemist's shop ‘New Global Medicate’ on the opposite side across the road. There you’ll see a lady sitting behind the counter every day. She is my Ex-wife. She and the owner of the shop are in love with each other since premarital days. Those days the owner of the shop was just a helper in some other chemist shop earning a meagre sum and therefore not financially sound. Hence her parents didn’t consent to their marriage and in order to avoid any untoward happening they quickly sought out another groom for her. And the axe, unfortunately, fell on my head. She continued meeting her paramour even after our marriage. It was rather this relationship that made a hell of my life. She was very eager to separate from my brother's household so that there is no vigil on her movements and her paramour can even visit her house in my absence. As they say, the offence is the best part of the defence. In order to hide her illicit relationship she made counter false allegations against me and my sister-in-law. She often made allegations about my character and advertised it widely to malign me. 

“Okay, I understand. You can leave now. Give me some time to reach a decision.”

The next day I returned from my office somewhat early. I changed my dress, wore ordinary clothes and ordinary slippers, and walked across the lane to reach the road from where I could see the ‘New Global Medicate’. I wanted to confirm what Harji Lal had said. After entering the shop I saw a middle-aged man, roughly 35 to 40 years old, sitting behind the counter writing something probably making entries in his daily account. On his right side was seated a short-statured chubby and fidgety woman with glossy eyes wearing a violet saree. They were talking unreservedly to each other. She would off and burst into peals of laughter after lively banter. On looking at her closely I found her just a carbon copy of the wife of Jagannath who had met me twice. On seeing me both of them got startled initially but later overcame their apprehension as they did not find me interested in their personal affairs.  I  took out a piece of paper from my pocket, read out the names of some medicines and asked about their availability.

The owner of the store looked at me from head to foot with amusement and then walked around in search of medicines. He opened a few almirahs to bring out the cartons containing the medicines, pulled out the required quantity and placed it on the ledge of the counter. Meanwhile, I kept watching the gestures of his lady friend looking sideways at her without making her conscious that I was interested in her. Later on, I visited the store a few times more after a gap of some days in between the visits and at the specified time. I would ask for some different medicines every time. During such visits, I found both of them in the same frolicsome mood as I had seen on day one. The owner gradually became quite informal with me. Meanwhile, if a customer entered, he would immediately attend to him and after satisfying him return to his seat. Over a period of time, more and more facts about them were revealed to me. 

Whatever Harji Lal had stated about his ex-wife proved to be cent per cent correct. I was also fully convinced that this woman had levelled false allegations against her husband in order to hide her own evil deeds.

In a week’s time, I acted as was most desired in this case but beyond the expectations of many. Harji Lal was posted precisely at the office as was requested by him in his application. How Jagannath and his wife must have reacted to the order remains unknown to me. I neither tried to know about it nor did they ever meet me after that. Harji Lal did once come to meet me in my office and thanked me profoundly.

It was during those days that I was sent on deputation to Army Postal Service. I was trained in Kampti near Nagpur in Maharashtra for about two months and thereafter posted to Bareilly, Uttar Pradesh for the first time. After around six months I came to my home on leave. In my heart of hearts, I was very eager to know what had become of Harji Lal, so I went to the post office where I had posted him. He was fortunately available in the same office where I had posted him though I had apprehended that his in-laws might have manipulated again to get him ousted from there and got him thrown far away from the city. On seeing me he immediately left his counter and fell on my feet.

With tears rolling down his cheeks yet inner happiness apparent on his face, he said, “Sir, when did you come?”

“I have come just a couple of days back,” I replied.

“Sir, I have got my son back. The court decided the case in my favour. My in-laws had been trying for a long time to keep me away from this city such that I would not be able to follow my case in the court but you were sent by God as a Messiah for me. Your order solved all my problems. You have reestablished my deserted life, Sir. How can I repay your favours? Now my son has become quite familiar with me and goes to school regularly. I am happy as happiness could be, thanks all to your mercy, Sir.”

Rivers were oozing out of his eyes. In spite of that, he exhibited his inner joy. I cannot say if those tears represented his joy or his sorrow!!

 

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