The Mission

Sujoy and I had gone to the same school and shared tiffins together. We both grew up at Birshibnagar, a suburban town near Kolkata. We played football at the local playground, queued up for hours at cinema halls to watch our favourite movies and went to picnic with the same group.

There were differences though. While my father was a reputed doctor and owned a lucrative nursing home, besides being attached to a government hospital; Sujoy’s father was the librarian at the local club library and worked part-time at a garments’ shop. While I went to school in a rich sedan, Sujoy always walked, saving the few rupees he was given for bus fares. But in spite of the adversities, Sujoy never complained.

During tiffin, when all students helped themselves to mouth-watering delicacies packed from their homes, Sujoy did not find it demeaning to chew puffed rice from his box. We both took admission in the same college after our higher secondary. Sujoy had always been a brilliant student at school, his interests lying with history and literature. He was adept at reciting poetries and performing solo acts in the annual functions. His oratory skills always brought him the first prize in extempore contests. It was due to his tireless efforts that the first issue of the college magazine saw the light of the day.

From our college days we swore our allegiance to the political party, whose principles we believed in. Sujoy’s unparalleled popularity in the college resulted in his being nominated the ‘General Secretary’ for consecutively three times. I would not say that I wasn’t jealous of his success but it also made me happy. I remember to this day, our first year at college, the first time our election results were announced.

The college wore a festive look with the scent of abir filling the air. The campus reverberated with shouts of ‘Inquilab, Zindabad’, followed by loud applause from the students, felicitating their leader. After passing out of college, Sujoy took up teaching at a private school in Birshibnagar, while I landed up a clerical job with a government organization in Kolkata. Though Sujoy could have easily procured a government job and secured his career like me, given the support he enjoyed in the party; yet for reasons unknown to us, he chose to live the way he desired. Since my migration to Kolkata, my contact with Sujoy got confined to social media networking and occasional mobile calls.

Sujoy Banerjee. The name reminded of a tall, dark, bearded man with long unkempt hair in his mid-twenties; a pair of dark, intelligent eyes covered by black-rimmed spectacles which he continually adjusted with his forefinger to set upon his nose. He was always clad in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, a jute bag flung over his shoulder. The bag would contain latest copies of the little magazine, he edited. Be it inside the college, a crowded bus or simply on his way; shedding all inhibitions he would request everyone to have a look at his magazine. His oratory skills helped him in spreading news about his magazine and within a year it was subscribed by almost every household in our locality. Soon he began writing letters and articles in newspapers, addressing the concerns of the local citizens. Sujoy lost his mother in childhood and was brought up singly by his father.

Growing in the company of books, his father lent from the library, he was fed with sound principles and had a theoretical view of the world around him. It was through his books that he got attracted to the ‘ism’ followed by our party. I remember the long discussions we had on means to improve the living conditions in the slums, uplift the socio-economic status of our masses and educate more women of our country; over puffs of cigarettes and innumerable cups of tea in the union room.

Our opinions flowed freely on topics such as socialism, consumerism, religion, rigours of casteism, reservations in jobs, corruption in the political system and on everything under the sun. It seemed that we could eradicate all evils of our society through student movement. That day I shared the hope that sparkled in Sujoy’s eyes and we promised to leave no stone unturned to realize our dreams.

Upon learning about his father’s demise, I took time from work and went to pay a visit to my childhood friend at his old, dilapidated house at Birshibnagar. After completion of the last rites and after his few guests had left, both of us sat together like the old times and I asked him his plans regarding marriage and whether I should seek a match for him. He gave his usual nonchalant smile and explained, ‘Family makes a person selfish, being committed to the betterment of your wife and children. How can one then fight for the thousand landless, homeless who do not have access to even two square meals a day? ‘But work for the society can still be carried out after marriage. All the leaders who’re committed to the welfare of the masses do not remain unmarried for their cause,’ I countered.

I could never have won an argument with him, I knew, but on the question of who was to look after him while he carried out his mission, he ultimately saw reason in getting married; but not before taking my word of not keeping the girl or her family in the dark regarding him, before giving his nod. Though I’d made a promise yet I was in a dilemma as to how I should portray Sujoy to a prospective bride’s family. Upon knowing the truth, which father would be willing to give his daughter to a man who led a bohemian life and had little regard for a family?

By this time my parents started to pressurize me for my own marriage. Like an obedient son, I agreed to marry their chosen girl, whose kundli matched with mine and whose family status matched ours. I dared not invite Sujoy in my wedding, lest I get ridiculed by my in-laws. Within a few days of my marriage however our kundliswere proven wrong and our marital life began to suffer. My highly educated wife found it difficult to share her life with an unambitious man, content with only a meagre salary. Her continuous bickering transformed me from a lazy, carefree person to an alert, active individual and I began seeking wealth from other corners. 

I deliberately kept files pending and offered to clear them upon payment of an agreed sum. I ensured that agencies interested in bidding for any work contributed a hefty sum to the party fund before empanelling them. I gathered employees and led them to attend rallies and protest marches called by the party. My wife was happy to be flooded with costly sarees, every other day and started making me happier in bed than before. Within a couple of years, I purchased a three-roomed flat at a posh location in South Kolkata and moved in with my wife, leaving my parental home at Birshibnagar. Time started to run fast and I devoted all my energy to get hold of it, leaving me no time to reminisce of the past days and slowly Sujoy got erased from my memory.

As time passed, things began to change. One of our party dignitaries close to the high command, who had been watching my performance, offered me an MLA ticket and I could not believe my luck when I won the elections. Soon I saw myself travelling in red light cars, enclosed with security guards and a separate room was allotted to me in the assembly house with party workers following my every order. I was introduced to the dark side of politics, the need for anarchy and terrorism to keep the power button on.

I learnt the tricks of organizing large gatherings for public meetings and the art of mixing facts and fiction while giving interviews to the media. I got skilled in killing times at parliamentary sessions preventing passing of bills which could otherwise result in dwindling sections of our vote-bank. I coordinated with mafias and planned riggings and booth-capturing during elections. I oversaw extortions from industrialists, public project concessionaires and vendors operating without licences.

I had to also keep watch on the actions of party men under me and amend their ways, if they went out-of-track and eliminate the rebels if required. As news of their deaths reached me, those with whom I had shared the boat once; I remembered only my party’s flag and the height I had yet to rise on my success ladder, before me. Initially I used to wake up to their groans at night and hallucinated myself to be bathed in blood; but soon those dreams stopped bothering me and I found elimination of a number of people justifiable for the benefit of the party as a whole .

Thus busy in my public-serving profession, I was haggling with the taxi-operators union’s president one day, over the increment in fares to pull off an indefinite strike, when someone handed me a file marked ‘for your immediate action please’. I was setting aside the file thinking it to be concerned with the matter at hand which I had almost resolved by that time, when I was informed that it contained something else and that the high-command wanted me to meet him within an hour.

After five years I was visiting my place of birth. Since I had my meeting with the high-command yesterday, I’d been barely able to close my eyes. The road abutting the market which went to my locality, the houses, shops and bye-lanes, flashed back memories of old days. As I passed my college my heart skipped a beat. I was on a mission and had no time even to visit my parents.

I guided my driver to that old winding road around the play-ground that led to the last house in the locality. It was 9:30 PM and travelling in an ordinary car without beacon lights and with guards in civil dress, did not make me easily recognizable. My heart broke upon seeing him. His health had disintegrated in those few years and he looked much dreary and worn-out, though his eyes still shone with intelligence behind his specs.

He recognized me immediately, surprised at seeing him at such late hour. Sujoy was teaching a group of children, whose appearance revealed the class of the society they belonged to. He signaled me to wait and as soon as his students had left, drew me to a hug. ‘I read about you in newspapers. I’m very happy to know that you’re doing well.’ I found it hard to look at him. Anybody could guess that he taught his students free and given the condition of his house, it could be well discerned that he was not making well from his job at school.

It turned out that he had left his job and was coaching students privately and with a couple of batches from affluent families he was making his ends meet somehow. I learnt that he was still unmarried. ‘You’re still rooted to the same place, friend, you need to move on’, I could not help telling him. He laughed; his eyes filled with the innocence and warmth like before and said. ‘But friend, we had promised to be here, don’t you remember?’ I looked at him blankly, unable to speak.

I remembered our days at college, our hopes, our promises. But did our ways have to differ so much? We both had dreamt of a classless society, but to achieve it was it sufficient to only raise awareness? Was revolution possible that way? Though we claim to have almost cent percent literacy rate in our state, yet only half of the children go to school. We had a high incidence of child labour employed in hazardous industries and an appreciably large number of kids and women being trafficked each year. People need to be educated, taken care of their health and provided employment opportunities to earn a living in the first place; and both money and power are intrinsic to attain such a level of equality before moral integrity and cleansing of our system can happen. You once believed in your party. Then what led you to go against it?

But I did not have to ask Sujoy. He seemed to read my mind, the childhood friend that he was of mine. I lighted a cigarette and offered him one. Both of us sat quietly, throwing rings of smoke into the air. Then I looked into his eyes dutifully and asked him to quit writing those pieces of shit in the newspapers. He looked away. ‘But being a friend I can’t see you ruin your life like this’, I told him. ‘I have some contacts in Kolkata. They can help you find a good job. Then we can go looking for a girl..’ I felt a lump in my throat at the mention of marriage. Something was breaking inside me and in no time I bade my friend goodbye, seeking his forgiveness in my mind and made for my car.

Every time I tried to think of our flag, Sujoy’s face flashed in my mind and his words ‘You’re doing well’ and ‘Friend, we had promised to be here’ seemed to tear me to pieces. I was nearing the end of my mission. Sitting inside the cool and opaque confinement of my car, I scrolled my call list with trembling fingers and redialed a number. For the first time since I attained power, fear gripped me and I found myself drenched in cold sweat. I had already sent the photo and address and like a mechanical robot waited for confirmation of completion of the assignment.

As my car sped away and I tried hard to distract myself, I found the scene enact before me to the minutest of details. I saw the man striding towards the last house in the row, so familiar to me. As the man neared the house, I saw myself climbing my ladder, higher and higher. I took pride in my accomplishment of securing a better future for my family, a king’s life for my child who was just about to see the world. The man had reached the bamboo gate and unfastened the wire loop. I could hear the door bell ring in my mind. There were only a few moments left for my mission to be completed.

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