Rang De Basanti

Gum Bahadur was a soldier in the Gurkha Regiment posted in Amritsar, Punjab. Six days of the week he would either be quelling the protesting locals termed rebels by the Gora masters or doing early morning rigourous training in the army camp. However, whenever he would get a chance, Gum ,on Sundays, would go across to the Golden Temple. There was something good about the place that gave him inner peace – was it the shabad kirtan playing or the sight of the Granth Sahib or was it the taste of the kada parshaad which brought a smile to his face. He gave himself another luxury of going to Kallu’s Dhaba and gorging on the Amritsari Kulcha with chhole. One day, while enjoying his kulcha, he saw a toddler, not more than three or four years old, who came running to him. “Uncle yeh bandook kya asli hai?” Gum smiled at the little one and holding his .303 Lee-Enfield gun tight, “Hain asli hai.” The mother, who was seated at the table nearby wearing a white shalwaar kameez , came across and pulled the boy away ,despite his loud protests, back to her table. Gum looked up at the mother and was stunned….she looked beautiful with round eyes, sharp nose, fair complexion and a tall figure…everything seemed right about her. Gum tried hard to look away but the more he tried, the more he would sneak a look at the woman.

Gum now had another reason to come out on Sundays as he found the mother and child also coming there around the same time. Slowly, Gum became friendly with Jagga who was now allowed to hold the gun; of course Gum had to support him as well. The mother would let Jagga be around the soldier. Gum was a fierce soldier and death was never something he feared but for once he was afraid, what if some day the mother and son wouldn’t turn up or what if the woman were to take offence at his looking at her and smiling? One day Gum found a courage of which he knew not and went straight and sat at the table where Jagga and his mother were eating their puri sabzi and lassi. The woman looked up in surprise but followed up with a gentle smile. Gum didn’t know how to react and being trained in the best military tradition his right hand went up in salute…..he soon realised his folly but the young mother laughed aloud.

Santokh Kaur was born and brought up in Gurdaspur but after marrying Dalbir Singh she had moved to Amritsar. Dalbir was a nationalist and was completely involved in the movement against the foreign rulers. About four years ago Jagga was born to them and three years after that Dalbir went missing. No one knew where. Some said he had been killed, some said he had gone into hiding and others said he had been imprisoned and sent to Andamans to serve at Kala Pani. Santokh never understood the freedom movement and the so called patriots and revolutionaries. To her, ensuring that she and her son got their two square meals a day and a shelter over their heads was enough. This wasn’t too difficult as Dalbir belonged to a well-to-do family which ensured that Santokh and Jagga were reasonably well taken care of.  After a while, waiting for Dalbir’s return, Santokh had reluctantly reconciled to the possible reality of life and started wearing whites despite protests from the husband’s family.  She would assist in the family kitchen and give a lot of time and attention to Jagga. Soon her life revolved around him and whatever he wanted, she would try and do it for him.

She found Gum a gentle soul and someone who showed her respect and more than that she felt something good in his presence.  Although he never said anything, Santokh too, like Gum, always looked forward to Sunday afternoons at Kallu’s Dhaba. Their conversations were very limited for she spoke chaste Punjabi and Gum’s Hindi had a strange accent which amused others listening to him at the Dhaba but not Santokh. They managed that small window of about thirty minutes, always were pained when the time arrived to part but looked forward to the calendar pages.

Baisakhi was approaching. It was the most colourful festival of Punjab. Gum knew about it and had saved a part of his meagre salary. He had gone to the market place and bought a colourful chunni- it was bright and beautiful. He had also bought a toy gun for Jagga. On the Sunday before the Sikh New Year, Gum handed over the packet to Santokh and said, “I know you wear white but I dream of you in colours. Wear it to the Baisakhi mela and I will be happy even if I can’t see you.” From where had the soldier found such courage mystified the speaker but he had done it and she just took it from him, opened it and silently sat down without an expression. She knew she would not be able to even though her heart wanted not to wait but do it right now. He returned to the barracks happy, she returned home puzzled but happy. It had been long since someone showed so much love. She couldn’t remember when last anyone had presented her with a gift. When all had gone to sleep, she closed the door of her room, lit the hurricane lamp, took out the packet from underneath the mattress of the bed, spread it over her head and looked into the small mirror and smiled. For long she had forgotten how beautiful she looked. The smile gave way to a giggle but then she quickly folded the chunni back and hid it away as she put out the light. A confused Santokh couldn’t sleep that night.

On the 12^th of April 1919, the commanding officer of the barracks called all the troops. It took the Gurkha Regiment no more than five minutes to be ready, guns and khukris shining with crisp khakhi uniforms. Colonel Dyer was the commanding officer and everyone feared that  man. He had a temper beyond words and the smallest of provocation was enough for him to punish the soldiers mercilessly. His hatred for the Indians was known to all. The commander roared, “The bloody Indians must be taught a lesson. They have been protesting everywhere, some peacefully and others have taken to arms. To me it doesn’t matter. Anyone who holds his head high against the British Government is a rebel and a terrorist and I shall not permit anyone to do it in my territory. Recently a mob had dishonoured an English missionary lady and I want to teach them a lesson. Tomorrow, at the park near the Golden Temple, as they gather to celebrate their festival, we shall teach them a lesson that will ensure no one takes us lightly, we shall crush their spirits and ensure our rule forever.”

It was a master stroke by Colonel Dyer. Even though Punjab had larger regiments but they had Sikhs there and he wasn’t sure of their loyalties in the brutal operation he was planning to execute the next day. Only the fiercest and the most loyal of His Majesty’s troops, the Gurkha Regiment would do and die and not reason why. As the soldiers retired to their beds, Gum was a worried man. Tomorrow Santokh and Jagga would be going to the very park where Dyer had planned a massacre. At night, Gum tried to sneak out of the barracks and make his way to the place where Santokh lived but such things only happened in fairy tales and not in real life.

Next morning ninety troops of the Gurkha regiment got ready in their battle fatigues. Fifty of them carried .303 Lee-Enfield guns and forty had a bare khukri in their hands. They walked in unison behind a motorized machine gun. As they came to the entrance of the park, Colonel Dyer realized that the motorized machine gun could not enter. So it was kept outside and the Gurkha troops were ordered to march in a single file. As Gum entered the Jallianwala Bagh, he saw a huge crowd inside but his eyes were looking for the red and gold chunni. He could see not one but many women all of whom were brightly dressed and many adorned the red and gold colours. Gum’s heart sank….is Santokh here…she said she would come with Jagga here. “God help them…Please save them”, he prayed as his eyes looked from right to left and left to right.

“Soldiers Attention! Take positions in two files. One standing and one on their knees. When I say Fire, fire till all the bullets you have finish. Show no mercy to the rebels.” Gum knew the Gurkha Code of Honour. Never to question but act as commanded and that is why his people were always considered the epitome of loyalty and integrity. As he knelt down and raised his .303 Lee-Enfield to take aim, he felt heavy in his heart. How could he kill his Santokh? How could he fire at little Jagga, one who played with his gun every Sunday? As the fight within him reached a peak, he heard Colonel Dyer roar, “FIRE!”

On an unarmed crowd of 15000, about 1650 rounds of bullets were fired. Official records show about 400 killed and a 1000 wounded but honestly no bullet could have missed its mark. Surrounded by walls, the hapless crowd had nowhere to go. The Gurkhas kept firing and bodies fell one atop other. Gum saw women and children jumping into a lone well in the park. He saw one woman with red and gold dupatta jumping and he prayed she were Santokh…his Santo. As the bullets exhausted, a satisfied Dyer examined his victory by thumping his chest and then commanding the troops to return to the barracks in an orderly fashion as the wounded lay unattended.

The Lieutenant General of Punjab, Michael O’Dwyer wrote in a telegram to Colonel Dyer, “Your action is correct. Lieutenant Governor approves.” Far away in Calcutta, Rabindranath Tagore received the news and wrote to the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford ,as he gave up his Knighthood, “I…wish to stand, shorn, of all special distinctions, by the side of those of my countrymen….the time has come when badges of honour make our shame glaring in the incongruous context of humiliation.”

A month later in the army barracks in Amritsar a court martial proceeding was going on.

“Gum Bahadur you are charged with treason against His Majesty’s Government for not firing a single shot even when commanded by Colonel Dyer. Do you accept the charge or have anything to say?”

“Yes Sir, I admit I did not fire on 13^th April 1919, not for showing disrespect to my Commander but because my gun was not working. It had got jammed. I tried hard to make it work but failed.”

Colonel Dyer who was standing in the court room stepped forward and asked Gum, “ Check this gun. Is this yours?”

Gum held the gun and he knew it was his. How much he took care of the gun, polished it, greased it…it was his pride. It was his earlier actions that had promoted him from a mere khukri wielding Gurkha to a gun. He always felt a sense of pride when he held his gun in his hand. “Yes Sir. This is my gun.”

“And you are saying it was not working on that day? It was jammed!”

"Yes Sir."

Dyer held the gun to Gum’s temple, unlocked the gun and pressed the trigger…..Booom!!

Gum fell down as blood rushed out.

Dyer threw down the gun and said, “I rest my case. The famed British justice is delivered.”

SS