(During a student protest at a school and college, lecturer Sumit criticizes the students for boycotting classes and damaging property. His colleagues, however, support the protests against police violence. As the situation escalates, clashes break out, the police intervene, and several people are arrested. Tensions grow as students bring more peers into the movement, leading to Sumit being humiliated and causing deeper divisions and a loss of trust throughout the community.)
Sumit and Diganta entered the office of the school and sat on the chairs, side by side. Hitu Das, the chowkidar, was attentively sweeping the classroom adjacent to the office with a bamboo broom. He swiftly came up to Sumit, the broom in his right hand, just when he saw him. Where was Ansuman? He had started for the school before them.
“Our Sir hasn’t come yet,” Hitu simpered.
“Does he always come late?” Diganta asked.
“No, Sir. He’s very regular and punctual. He’s a very good man, Sir.”
Diganta laughed.
“He’s a very fine gentleman, Sir. He behaves very well toward us all. He gives full attention to all. He’s teaching me English. He says that I’ll be able to learn English very soon. Without English, education is nothing, Sir. O, Sir is coming!”
Hitu went up to Ansuman and said, “Good morning, Sir.”
“When did you come here?” Ansuman smiled at Sumit and Diganta and sat in his chair.
“Just a few minutes ago,” Sumit answered.
“I went to see Mahanta-sir.”
“Why?”
“To talk to him. About the agitation.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“The agitation is spreading to the mass people.”
“So what? The agitators themselves want it to spread to the masses.”
“Sumit, I can’t understand why you’re so categorically against the agitation.”
“There are many causes. You won’t understand them.” Sumit choked with emotions. “Ansuman, I supported the mass squatting programme in front of the Assembly House by the State Government employees’ Federation. I supported the strike by the College Teachers’ Association of Assam for the improvement of service conditions. But I don’t support this agitation by the students. Why should they boycott classes? My guilt is that I can’t see them go to the dogs. The ruin of these young people is the ruin of our generation.” Sumit sneezed. “We’ve seen the students of Sunjuri, who stage sit-in-strikes, bunking their classes. I doubt their patriotism. In the name of picketing the offices and the institutions, they are out on the razzle. The pickets don’t look like agitators. They look like picnickers. Some of my students razz me when I go past them. Won’t you agree that this is degeneration? Ansuman, I oppose this agitation because I’ve understood what it is, why it is and where it will drag us.”
Ansuman and Diganta remained silent.
*
From the school, Sumit went straight to college and sat in the common-room. A rumpus outside. He came out with the other lecturers. Some students were fighting. The scoundrels were polluting the campus atmosphere. Gunadhar Mahanta hurried out of his office. Raising his hands above his head, he stood obtrusively among the students. The fighting students did not care about Gunadhar Mahanta. Should he go and stand by Gundhar Mahanta? He was definitely not like the other lecturers who were enjoying the scene with indifference, from a comfortable distance. Was it only Gunadhar Mahanta’s duty to contain the erring students? Sumit stepped forward. Failing to contain the students, Gunadhar Mahanta retreated into his office, head down in a shameful defeat. Sumit could not do anything for Gunadhar Mahanta.
*
The police entered the campus. The angry and unruly students began to pelt the police with whatever they found near them. The police heavily charged them with their lathis and arrested some of them. After the lathi charges and arrests, the next day, the students of the college held a meeting, condemned the police and the principal vociferously and urged the student community to organize themselves strongly and stand united against such atrocities, which were planned to shatter their agitation they thought peaceful and democratic. Sumit breathed deeply and looked at Diganta, who was reading The Assam Tribune. “Diganta, I must say your students are just hooligans,” he said. Diganta looked at him questioningly and passed the newspaper to Ansuman.
“Hooligans?” Diganta said.
“Yes, hooligans. Listen to me without opening your mouth.”
“I know what you will say. I’m not interested in your repetitions.”
“No. You don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“Then oblige me with your information. Ha, ha, ha!”
“You know, holding meetings and admonishing the police and the principal, the students didn’t get satisfied. For further retaliation, some of them entered the college campus at night, broke doors and windowpanes, tore off the telephone line and beat the night watchman. Do you know the cause? The cause was that the poor man protested against their criminal activities. Before going away, they warned the poor man against disclosing their names to the authorities.”
Ansuman shifted on the sofa.
“Yet they are not hooligans. Sumit, perhaps you don’t know that the police are making the movement spread to every nook and corner of the State. The police atrocities on the peaceful people have made the movement more intense.”
“The police can’t remain as passive onlookers when the agitators are on the spree of causing chaos everywhere like this.”
“The whole student community and the people of Sunjuri resented the arrests of the students and the atrocities on them. Except you.” Diganta pointed his forefinger at him. “Why? Why do you still behave like this?”
“Because I don’t belong to the multitude and don’t care about the activities of the fools.”
“But you aren’t a nonpareil man either, Sumit. Now you’re the laughing stock of Sunjuri. The enemy under the eiderdown.”
The hawker dropped The Telegraph on the veranda.
Sumit went out and picked up the newspaper from the floor, and, standing on the veranda, read the headlines of the news and concentrated on the piece of news about a section of the ONGC employees who had gone on a strike and reported for duties only after getting assurances room the chief secretary and the inspector general of police that any sort of atrocity by the pickets on these employees would be prevented with force if so required. At least some newspapers were reporting objectively! He folded the newspaper. A wasp wanted to fly past his face. “Oh, blow it!” He struck the wasp with the newspaper. He came in and put the newspaper on the coffee-table. “Diganta, read The Telegraph.”
“The Assam Tribune and Dainik Aham are my papers.” Diganta went out.
Ansuman picked up The Telegraph.
Sounds at the gate. Sumit stood up and looked out of the window. Some boys and girls. Dolly! Dolly with these boys and girls! He slouched on the sofa. His heart began to pump rapidly. Romola had surely wangled the support for the agitation out of Dolly. Dolly boldly entered the sitting-room.
Ansuman looked up from the paper. “Hello!” He smiled.
“Hello!” she said and reciprocated his smile.
Ansuman gave attention to the paper.
“Sir, we’ve come to take Romola with us,” she said to Sumit.
“Why?”
“We’ll picket the offices of the sub-deputy collector and the block development officer.”
“You people can do it. Why do you need Romola?”
“We want to make ourselves strong. The girls should come from all homes and join us.” She went in.
Sumit picked up The Assam Tribune and pretended reading it, hiding his face flushed with anger. He did not like the boys and the girls, who were standing on the veranda. Dolly silently breezed out with Romola. The boys and the girls burst out giggling. He did not like the way they giggled. Their giggles showed their sheer arrogance. Their giggles rained stones on his heart. Their giggles made him feel hurt. His whole body trembled with anger. He looked up from the newspaper. He wished if he had been able to cane their naked bodies to bloody weal for hours. He gritted his teeth and pretentiously returned to the newspaper.
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