A Suitable Boy(130)

‘I am afraid that that is not possible under the Standing Orders…’ protested the Speaker.

Begum Abida Khan waved the documents around, and raised her voice higher: ‘The newspapers have copies of them, why is the House not entitled to see them? When the blood of innocent men, of mere boys, is being callously shed –’

‘The honourable member will not use Question Time to make speeches,’ said the Speaker, and banged his gavel.

Begum Abida Khan suddenly pulled herself together, and once again addressed L.N. Agarwal.

‘Will the honourable Minister kindly inform the House on what basis he came to the total figure of one?’

‘The report was furnished by the District Magistrate, who was present at the time of the event.’

‘By ‘present” you mean that he ordered the mowing down of these unfortunate people, is that not so?’

L.N. Agarwal paused before answering: ‘The District Magistrate is a seasoned officer, who took whatever steps he considered the situation required. As the honourable member is aware, an inquiry under a more senior officer will shortly be made, as it is in all cases of an order to fire; and I suggest to her that we wait until such time as the report is published before we give vent to speculation.’

‘Speculation?’ burst out Begum Abida Khan. ‘Speculation? Do you call this speculation? You should be – the honourable Minister’ – she emphasized the word maananiya or honourable – ‘the honourable Minister should be ashamed of himself. I have seen the corpses of two men with these very eyes. I am not speculating. If it were the blood of his own co-religionists that was flowing in the streets, the honourable Minister would not “wait until such time”. We know of the overt and tacit support he gives that foul organization the Linga Rakshak Samiti, set up expressly to destroy the sanctity of our mosque –’

The House was getting increasingly excited under her oratory, inappropriate though it may have been. L.N. Agarwal was grasping his curve of grey hair with his right hand, tense as a claw, and – having cast his calm demeanour to the winds – was glaring at her at every scornful ‘honourable‘.

The frail-looking Speaker made another attempt to stem the flow: ‘The honourable member may perhaps need reminding that according to my Question List, she has three starred questions remaining.’

‘I thank you, Sir,’ said Begum Abida Khan. ‘I shall come to them. In fact I shall ask the next one immediately. It is very germane to the subject. Will the honourable Minister of Home Affairs inform us whether prior to the firings in Chowk a warning to disperse was read out under Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code? If so, when? If not, why not?’

Brutally and angrily L.N. Agarwal replied: ‘It was not. It could not have been. There was no time to do so. If people start riots for religious reasons and attempt to destroy temples they must accept the consequences. Or mosques, of course, for that matter –’

But now Begum Abida Khan was almost shouting. ‘Riot? Riot? How does the honourable Minister come to the conclusion that that was the intention of the crowd? It was the time of evening prayer. They were proceeding to the mosque –’

‘From all reports, it was obvious. They were rushing forward violently, shouting with their accustomed zealotry, and brandishing weapons,’ said the Home Minister.

There was uproar.

A member of the Socialist Party cried: ‘Was the honourable Minister present?’

A member of the Congress Party said: ‘He can’t be everywhere.’

‘But this was brutal,’ shouted someone else. ‘They fired at point-blank range.’

‘Honourable members are reminded that the Minister is to answer his own questions,’ cried the Speaker.

‘I thank you, Sir –’ began the Home Minister. But to his utter amazement and, indeed, horror, a Muslim member of the Congress Party, Abdus Salaam, who happened also to be Parliamentary Secretary to the Revenue Minister, now rose to ask: ‘How could such a grave step – an order to fire – have been taken without either giving due warning to disperse or attempting to ascertain the intention of the crowd?’

That Abdus Salaam should have risen to his feet shocked the House. In a sense it was not clear where he was addressing the question – he was looking at an indeterminate point somewhere to the right of the great seal of Purva Pradesh above the Speaker’s chair. He seemed, in fact, to be thinking aloud. He was a scholarly young man, known particularly for his excellent understanding of land tenure law, and was one of the chief architects of the Purva Pradesh Zamindari Abolition Bill. That he should make common cause with a leader of the Democratic Party – the party of the zamindars – on this issue, stunned members of all parties. Mahesh Kapoor himself was surprised at this intervention by his Parliamentary Secretary and turned around with a frown, not entirely pleased. The Chief Minister scowled. L.N. Agarwal was gripped with outrage and humiliation. Several members of the House were on their feet, waving their order papers, and no one, not even the Speaker, could be clearly heard. It was becoming a free-for-all.