Exile

by Taslima Nasrin

  I greeted Mr Mukherjee with tea and refreshments. We had previously mostly spoken over the phone; the few times we had met, the conversation had involved nothing but cursory social pleasantries. This time it went on for nearly two hours, mostly on the following lines:

  CP: Things are not looking good.

  TN: Why not?

  CP: A group of non-Bengali Muslims has chalked up a plan to assassinate you.

  TN: Is that so?

  CP: Yes. But I am making all arrangements for your security. My boys are all here and the security has been beefed up. I hope you’ve noticed.

  TN: Yes, of course. Thank you. I feel quite safe now.

  CP: But you shouldn’t have gone to Hyderabad. That was a mistake.

  TN: They have been insisting for a few years. I have always refused but this time they were so earnest in their request for me to be present at the launch of my book that I changed my mind. And I had never been to the city either.

  CP: You shouldn’t have gone.

  TN: I didn’t know they had not made security arrangements. The organizers did not take it into account that something of this sort could happen.

  CP: Hmm. It was a mistake.

  TN: Why was it a mistake? It’s not as if I knew from before that something like this would happen!

  CP: Why did you go to Hyderabad?

  TN: My book has been published in Telugu and the publishers invited me to be part of the launch.

  CP: Your book was published in Hyderabad? Why? Why have they published it in Telugu?

  TN: Because I write in Bangla.

  CP: I know that.

  TN: Bengali books are usually translated into many languages, just like mine was translated into Telugu.

  CP: Really?

  TN: Yes. My books have been translated into other languages too.

  CP: Are you telling the truth?

  TN: Why should I lie?

  CP: Which other languages?

  TN: Marathi, Hindi, Oriya, Assamese, Panjabi, Malayalam . . .

  CP: Really? Why? Why have your books been translated?

  TN: Because people who speak these languages have shown interest in reading what I write. So, publishers have gotten these books translated.

  CP: Whatever it is, you shouldn’t have gone to Hyderabad.

  TN: I have visited other states before this, to places where I have been felicitated, though I like interacting in such cultural gatherings too. And it is always a pleasure to interact with the readers.

  CP: You have gone to other states as well?

  TN: Of course. I get invitations from many states.

  CP: Who invites you? Why do they invite you?

  TN: Publishers invite me, or sometimes literary societies do. I don’t always go to all these places. But nothing unpleasant has ever happened anywhere, and there are ample security arrangements. I have been to Delhi twice, once on an invitation by Women’s World and once for the Radical Humanists. The second time there was no security at all but nothing happened.

  CP: Really? Why had they invited you?

  TN: Usually, I am invited to speak on human rights or women’s rights, or to read from my own writing.

  CP: Who comes to listen?

  TN: People do.

  CP: Hmm.

  TN: (sighs)

  CP: What were you speaking on in Hyderabad? Why did they attack you?

  TN: The book they were publishing is Shodh, the life story of a woman. In my speech I spoke only about a woman’s right to live with dignity and respect.

  CP: Did you say anything about religion?

  TN: I did not even utter the word, not even once. Neither did I mention Islam.

  CP: Then why did they get so angry?

  TN: There has been a rumour going around about me that I am anti-Islamic. That is why I was attacked. Though, I have subsequently learnt that the entire thing had been orchestrated to draw the Muslim votes by claiming they were saving Islam from my evil.

  CP: There is a fatwa against you in this city too.

  TN: There are so many fatwas against me. Now that bit seems to have calmed down. And perhaps you can step in and have a word with the imam of the Tipu Sultan Masjid. The last time he had issued a fatwa, you had called him to your room to talk and he had later denied ever having issued any decree in the first place. Why don’t you do something similar again?

  CP: Forget about the imam, he is not an important factor here. The ones who are coming forward, issuing fatwas, they are not dangerous. They are the good guys. The bad guys are dangerous; they are scheming in the shadows, and getting ready. I have information that they have finalized a plan to murder you.

  TN: Do you know who they are?

  CP: Yes, I do.

  TN: If you have all the information, then why don’t you arrest them?

  CP: That is not possible.

  TN: I don’t think anything will happen. Besides, the security people are here. I don’t think they will dare try and kill someone in Kolkata.

  CP: How can you say that? Do you think I am saying this without concrete information?

  TN: But nothing has happened! Siddiqullah Chowdhury and his cronies had claimed they would picket the Writers’ Building. Even that did not happen.

  CP: (Loudly, in reproach) Will you be giving me information or should it be the other way round?

  TN: I read it in the papers.

  CP: (Disapprovingly again) The papers know nothing. We know everything. How will journalists know what is brewing in secret within the city?

  TN: That is true. But these people, why can’t they be arrested? Conspiracy to commit murder is an offence punishable by law, isn’t it?

  CP: No, they can’t be arrested, especially because this is a minority issue.

  TN: How can that be an excuse? Isn’t the law the same for everyone?

  CP: Religious sentiment is an entity in its own right.

  TN: That is true. But these terrorists, the ones you are talking about, have they ever read any of my books? I don’t think they have.

  CP: I don’t know all that. All I know is that they are ready, they have a plan in place, and they are just waiting for the right opportunity. Besides, there’s going to be a huge strike sometime around the middle of November, to protest against your actions; it’s going to be an ugly thing.

  TN: How?

  CP: What if there is an angry mob that descends here?

  TN: Really? Won’t they be stopped before they can reach the house?

  CP: Of course, I will provide you with every bit of protection. You must have already noticed how I have beefed up the security. However, if a mob does turn up here and one of our boys shoots one of them, there is going to be a riot.

  TN: What are you saying?

  CP: I am telling you the truth.

  TN: But why will there be a riot?

  CP: Yes, that is what will happen. Do you want shots to be fired? Do you really want someone to get shot because of you?

  TN: No, I don’t want that.

  CP: If even one of them gets shot, a riot will be inevitable. The news will spread to the Muslim areas and that will be enough.

  TN: But why a riot? This is not a communal issue! It’s a question of the law. Does the law discriminate between the Hindu and the Muslim?

  CP: It has to! Before you say anything about the law, consider yourself! Have you found support from any quarters? Even after Hyderabad? Has any political party taken a stand on your behalf? Everyone needs the Muslim votes. You have to try and understand these things, that you will find no support from society at large.

  TN: But I get the support of the common people.

  CP: Who has told you that?

  TN: I am telling you. People are calling me, writing to me, telling me how much they love my writing.

  CP: All that will amount to nothing. What matters is that you don’t have the support of a single political party. You are in a very bad spot.

  Helping himself to the tea and refreshments offered, Pras
un Mukherjee continued.

  CP: The leaders of the minority communities wish to meet the CM. They are pushing for your deportation and they want to block the CM’s convoy in protest. If that happens, we might have to beat them back. Do you know what that means? It will be the next big news. A riot is a foregone conclusion.

  TN: That is unbelievable!

  CP: No, it’s not. There will be a riot in Kolkata because of you, if you continue to stay here.

  TN: There will be a riot in Kolkata if I stay here? I have lived here for so many years, but nothing has ever happened. And now I am meant to believe that there will suddenly be a riot?

  CP: If you don’t wish to believe, that is entirely your problem. But that is what will happen. Now the decision rests on you.

  TN: Which decision?

  CP: I suggest you go away for a while.

  TN: What do you mean?

  CP: I mean you have to leave Kolkata, at least for a few days.

  TN: Where do I go?

  CP: Go to Europe.

  TN: Europe? But it’s not as if I have a house there somewhere!

  CP: Then make some arrangements.

  TN: When do I return?

  CP: Once everything has calmed down.

  TN: (With a laugh) I remember when they put me on a plane from Bangladesh in ’94. Back then too they had told me, come back once everything has calmed down. It has been thirteen years, and things still haven’t.

  CP: If you want to come back, then of course you can.

  TN: But I cannot go to Europe. I closed that chapter entirely when I came back. Now if I go back, I would have to stay in a hotel and that is not possible for me. Besides, my sister is arriving in a couple of days. She plans to stay for a while.

  CP: Take her with you.

  TN: But where?

  CP: Go to America.

  TN: She is coming from America. Why should I take her back there?

  CP: Then go somewhere else.

  TN: I have already explained it to you; I can’t go to Europe or America. I don’t have that kind of money.

  CP: Then go to a place within the country.

  TN: Where in the country?

  CP: That you have to decide. You don’t have acquaintances in any of the other states in India?

  TN: I have many. I have my publishers in Kerala, Maharashtra and Orissa. In fact, the Government of Kerala has been very gracious towards me. The minister for education, M.A. Baby, had invited me over for dinner, and the minister for forests too had sent an invitation for breakfast.

  CP: Then go to Kerala. Ask your publishers to make arrangements for your stay.

  TN: But then people will get to know about it. The last time, a group of Islamic radicals had staged a protest against me.

  CP: Inform the Kerala government about your visit. They will make arrangements for your protection, so don’t worry about that. Where else did you say? Maharashtra, was it?

  TN: My Marathi publisher, Anil Mehta, is there. He is a wonderful person.

  CP: Why don’t you go to Madhya Pradesh? They have such vast forests there.

  TN: You want me to go away to the forest?

  CP: (Laughing in embarrassment) No, it’s just that I love the forest. That’s why I said it.

  TN: I don’t like the forest.

  CP: Then what do you like?

  TN: I love the sea, the mountains.

  CP: Then go to Kerala. Go and enjoy the surf there.

  TN: And when should I return?

  CP: Not before three to four months at least. Come back after the fires have died down.

  TN: But I don’t see any fires.

  CP: You might not, but we do.

  TN: Oh!

  CP: Once you come back, please move from this house. Move to the south of the city, preferably near Ballygunge. This place is too close to the Muslim-dominated areas.

  TN: It is so difficult to get an apartment! I have seen so many but I still haven’t managed to find one in a good locality. I had taken this one on rent rather hurriedly because I had no other options. The rent is quite steep, so I would ideally like a slightly cheaper place.

  CP: Don’t worry! We will find you one!

  TN: But how do I simply up and leave this house? I have so many important things here, so many books, certificates and documents. How can I just leave everything behind?

  CP: Is there anything expensive?

  TN: There are a few gold medals, etc.

  CP: Take your valuables along with you.

  TN: With me? As in, I should just wander about with all my valuable things with me? And what would happen to my house? What about my cat?

  CP: Don’t worry. My boys will watch over your house and your cat.

  TN: You are asking me to go away for a while, but for how long? Why are you not telling me clearly when I would be able to return?

  CP: Come back after a few months.

  TN: And you are sure everything will be fine after a few months?

  CP: Yes. How long can it last? It will all calm down after a few months, at the most within a few years.

  TN: I don’t believe things are so bad. You are telling me there will be unrest if I stay in Kolkata; but wouldn’t things go back to being bad once I decide to come back? Will they let me be once I come back after some time?

  CP: Don’t worry about that now. We will cross that bridge when we come to it.

  TN: Then we must cross this one now. I do not believe anything can be solved by running away. If they realize I have fled because I am afraid, then it will be a huge victory for them.

  CP: When did you rent this apartment?

  TN: About three years back.

  CP: This is not a good locality. This is too close to the Muslim areas. An attack can happen any moment. How big is the flat? How many square feet?

  TN: I am not entirely sure, perhaps around 1700 or 2000. Different people have told me different things.

  CP: (Looking around the place) We will find you one just like this. Is the bathroom that way?

  TN: Yes.

  CP: (Entering the study) Is this the study?

  TN: Yes, this is where I spend most of my time.

  CP: Why? What do you do here?

  TN: I study.

  CP: (Approaching the computer) You write on this?

  TN: Yes.

  CP: In Bangla?

  TN: Yes.

  CP: So strange!

  TN: Why should that be strange?

  CP: Will you show me how you write on this?

  TN: (I write ‘It is not possible for me to go anywhere. No, not possible at all’ in Bangla) That is how.

  CP: (Smiling) How do you know which key is which Bangla alphabet?

  TN: I have been using the computer for years now. It’s become a thing of habit to relate the Roman alphabets to the Bangla ones.

  CP: (Moving towards the door, on his way out) When will your sister be here?

  TN: In a couple of days. She is unwell, wants to consult a few doctors.

  CP: Listen to me. Try and leave as soon as possible. And let me know quickly once you have decided.

  TN: I need some time to think.

  CP: There is nothing to think of. You have to leave as soon as possible!

  As Prasun Mukherjee left, the police officers stationed outside the door shot up from their chairs with salutes, their deference to their senior officer fairly evident. I remember closing the door, walking to the study and sitting down. Numbed by the encounter, grief seemed to clog my throat. After Usri had gone home, leaving me in complete solitude, with the earth still trembling beneath my feet, I could think of only person who I could talk to just then—Manas Ghosh, in whose newspaper26 I used to write a column every Wednesday. Having heard everything, he immediately assured me that he would talk to Trinamool Congress leader Saugata Roy. Within my own limited circle of acquaintances, there have never been many people who I could approach for advice in times of need, or people who understand the language of politics. Most have been peop
le like me, completely ignorant of the workings of the political machinery. Soon enough, Manas Ghosh and Saugata Roy arrived at my place. Hearing of Prasun Mukherjee’s visit and our conversation, all Manas Ghosh could do was to shake his head frequently and mutter, ‘That’s very bad.’ However, no matter how hard I try I have never managed to understand whether he had meant to say anything else after that. Saugata Roy, much more forthright, admitted, ‘This city seemed so much better with you living here. I will miss you.’

  Shocked, with a shaky voice I inquired, ‘What do you mean you will miss me? Do you truly believe I will have to leave?’

  ‘The government has told you to leave; they must have done so keeping your security in mind. Where will you go now? To Europe?’

  ‘No. I am not going anywhere.’

  Saugata Roy called Priya Ranjan Dasmunsi, who was then the minister of parliamentary affairs and information and broadcasting in the Congress-led UPA government, and we got to know that he had spoken to the papers in my support after the incident at Hyderabad and had demanded the perpetrators be punished. Subsequently, he had had to suffer for his views. When asked what those consequences had been, I was greeted with silence—evidence enough that opposition from fellow party members, especially the Muslims, had forced him to change his stance.

  Since Prasun Mukherjee himself had come to warn me, both the men were convinced that there were tensions simmering in the city, even if the city itself seemed totally at peace. To everyone what had been evident was that the commissioner of police had come to me, and that was no small thing. They were sure that my security situation was too dire and the entire urban police force would be unable to protect a single individual; so it was perfectly justified to ask me to leave. Thus convinced, the only help the two felt they could offer me was their sympathies. Perhaps just to that end, they admitted that it was too late to debate over this and that we should continue the conversation the next day. It was mutually decided that we would reconvene in my study to figure out if there was any way to save me. I spent the entire night in distress. As planned, the two of them came the next day but we still could not find a possible way out of my predicament. Finally, I took a firm stand on my own—I was not going to go anywhere.