(“The Speeches” depicts how the leaders who channel the course of the agitation make fiery speeches in important places, including Sunjuri. Except for the activities of the agitators, everything in the town, along with the closing of the educational institutions and the picketing of the Government offices, almost comes to a standstill.)
Sumit desired to ask Dharani Bora whether he still supported the agitation after all this. But, considering the situation, he abandoned the desire. “Dr Saikia, I think now they’re all right.”
“Yes. Bora, be careful of dealing with unknown people in future. I don’t know whether you know many hoodlums have joined the agitation for their individual interest. Many professional robbers are looting and committing robberies in the wake of the agitation.” Dr Udit Saikia got up.
“Dr Saikia, please don’t mind my disturbing you at night.”
“Oh, this is not a problem!”
Sumit saw Dr Udit Saikia to the car.
Dr Udit Saikia got into the car and started it.
“Good night, Dr Saikia.”
“Good night.’
*
Dharani Bora won’t speak against Sumit, any more. Sumit would make him understand the futility of this bogus agitation in the future. He sank the key into the rusty lock carefully so that his parents did not hear the lock screech and wake up. He entered the room and towelled his whole body and took off Dharani Bora’s lungi and shirt and put on his lungi and vest. He would fetch his shirt and lungi from Dharani Bora’s tomorrow morning. He fell into bed and, hugging the side pillow, closed his eyes. He would talk to Ansuman and Diganta, who had returned from Hartal Gaonburh’s, in the morning. He went to sleep.
*
The agitation gathered momentum. The people of Assam began to float in its mighty flow. Leaders who channelled the course of the agitation made fiery speeches in important places and came to Sunjuri also, to rouse the riff raff of this hick town. Except the activities of the agitators, everything in the town, along with the closing of the educational institutions and the picketing the Government offices, almost came to a standstill. The government gave warnings to the employees who absented themselves from the offices and the institutions. The employees didn’t care about the warnings. The Government was in a hung position. The print media were on the spree of spewing venom against the State Government, publishing the stories of Governmental irregularities, corruption and atrocities. Sumit laughed at himself and the circumstances he was in. He tried to hear the slogan, which was within the shouting distance. The procession would head for the town. He ignored the procession. The weather was fine. The granaries were full. The mirth was there everywhere. The famous national leaders visited Assam to campaign for the elections. Their arrivals made the cold February days more pleasant and sultry. The village people who had enough leisure after the harvesting didn’t miss the political meetings though they didn’t understand the speeches made by the political aspirants. The candidates went doorstepping. The voters revelled in the importance the candidates gave to them. In the evening, they boastfully talked of the names of the leaders and the numbers of the pats on their backs. Without being gifted with wit, tolerance and the art of speaking, you can’t become a successful leader. The leaders made a lot of promises to the people. They assured the people of the prosperity of the State like in the past. The common villagers couldn’t see the famous leaders. The few of them, who went to the towns and cities, on errands, saw them, and, coming back home, proudly discussed the leaders with their fellow men and women. Diganta hastily entered the room and handed him a letter.
“The people of Sunjuri have become madly busy preparing to welcome the great leader in the wake of the elections. Don’t miss the meeting. I guarantee you’ll like to hear the speech by the leader. He keeps the audiences spellbound for hours and sensitises the ignorant people to the agitation,” Diganta said and sat down.
Sumit read the detailed itinerary of the agitation leader and cast Diganta a penetrating look and gave him a wry smile. “I think your so-called great leader won’t be able to keep me spellbound even for a minute. And I am not an ignorant man. I know what they are doing throughout the State.”
“What are they doing?”
“They are urging the democratic people to scuttle the elections.”
“Why do you talk like this? You shouldn’t belittle such a leader. You may not understand his greatness. But he is really great.”
“Diganta, the fools like you call them great. But I know your leaders are cheats. They’re born to cheat the people and create chaos. They aren’t patriots. They do politics for their own interest and ambitions. And they can become successful because there are many fools like you.”
“Then don’t you want to go to the meeting?”
“No. Don’t ask me to go to the meeting, to waste my valuable time.”
“I ask you not to criticize the leaders. I ask you not to ignore their labour and planning for the development of the country.”
“Are your leaders labouring and planning for the development of the country? They’re labouring to earn what they want to earn in their lives. Don’t tell me about their planning. I think the politicians you praise don’t know the proper meaning of planning. If you mean that planning is what broadcasts the seeds of enmity among the people, I won’t dispute your views. I love and honour the statesmen. You may call the statesmen great. But not these politicians. Have you understood now, Mr Poet-cum-agitator? Don’t think I am not in the know. I support the elections. If a single man casts his vote then it will be Sumit Barkataki. I won’t allow the hoodlums to rob me of my democratic right.”
Ansuman came and sat by him on the sofa, facing Diganta.
“This election can’t help us in any way. So try to understand the situation with your proper intelligence.” Diganta looked out of the window.
“I think you’re discussing the agitation.” Ansuman looked at them.
“Please don’t miss the meeting.” Diganta rose.
“Thanks a bunch!” Sumit chortled.
Diganta went out.
*
Sumit, willy-nilly, went to the meeting, with Ansuman and Diganta.
“See how pompously he has come up to the mike! He is a volcano. This machine will record his eruption now.” Diganta readied his tape-recorder.
“Dear People of Assam, dear Brothers and Sisters, dear and respected Elders, I haven’t come here to wise you up to the situation you are living in. I’ve come here to repeat why we’re doing this movement. This movement is our great movement. Our sacred movement. Our final movement. We’re doing this movement out of fear. Fear from being extinct forever. So we can’t think of a failure. A failure will be our final nightmare.” The leader moistened his lips and drank a draught of water. “Why have you come out, hearing the call of the movement? You’ve come out because you’ve realized your identity is threatened, your language is interrupted, your culture is endangered. So I must call you wise. Your wisdom, your good spirits and your strength have prompted you to come out and join the movement and make us all strong.”
Claps thundered. Subsidence of the claps took about a minute. Diganta coloured with pride. Could Ansuman understand the full text of the speech? Sumit was nonchalant. The leader enjoyed the claps.
“Our movement is non-violent. Non-communal. And purely democratic. Now we’ve become bound to do this movement for the blunders of our elders, for the blunders of our leaders, for the blunders of history. History also brutally conspired against us, against our Assam, our Ahami Aai. The general election is going to be imposed on us, with some conspiracies. So I urge you to avoid the election and join the movement. You will do the final blunders and become homeless in your own homes. If you don’t join this movement. If you don’t avoid the election. If you don’t listen to us and make all the sinister attempts against us and our State futile.”
The excited leader deeply breathed into the microphone. Diganta condescendingly glanced at Sumit and Ansuman. Sumit remained silent. The audiences didn’t like to break their attention even with whispers. Diganta glanced at Sumit and Ansuman again like before.
“Our critics brand us as communalists. We’ve reiterated many times that we hate communalism. Those who call us communal want to tarnish the image of our great movement. We know this. And you also know this. I swear on your names here that our movement is neither against the Muslims nor against the Hindus. We don’t believe in the communal divide. Don’t misunderstand us. Our movement is only against the illegal immigrants, both the Hindu and the Muslim immigrants. Our movement is not against any Indian citizens. So I would like to appeal to you, to overcome your hesitation and join us with might and main and make our movement your movement. And make the movement a success. For your existence. Your existence totally depends on the success of this movement. My Indian Citizens, my Assamese People, come forward and join us! The movement is ready to take you all to its bosom, its large, liberal bosom, for its strength and success. My Hindu and Muslim Brothers and Sisters, my parent-like Countrymen, come forward and shout Jai Aai Aham with us. Join hands and make a long chain for your prosperity, security and identity. Illegal immigrants must not be allowed to enjoy their residency rights here. They must not be allowed to use our land as their living place. You must remain alert to stop their incessant influx into our State. We will treat all the illegal immigrants under the Three-D Formula. We will compel the Government to detect the illegal immigrants, to delete their names from the voters’ lists and to deport them to their parent countries. The illegal immigrant voters must not be allowed to cast their ballots in Assam. Without immaculate voters’ lists, election cannot be held. Under the present circumstances, we must be united. With our unity and movement…”
“Sumit, now what’s your opinion about his speech?” Diganta asked.
“He’s speechifying about the agitation,” Sumit said dispassionately.
“Speechifying about the agitation?” Diganta said.
Diganta sounded slightly excited. “Diganta, I’m leaving. Interpret the speech to Ansuman,” Sumit said and curled up his lips.
“Why do you want to leave?” Diganta stared at Sumit.
“I can’t keep listening to such an oration on narrow politics. It grates on me. I’ll cast my vote. I won’t follow their directions. The voters’ lists are correct. One hundred per cent correct.”
“Belt up and go back to your lair! You are really stupid. Really stupid! I don’t know why you were born an Assamese.” Diganta scowled at Sumit.
Diganta had roared in high dudgeon, getting really angry. “Time will say who is stupid and who is wise.” Sumit left.
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