As everyone moved on to February and Calcutta’s
retreating cold fingers, fresh blossoms on campus, I was left to encounter
police once again. I had let them know that there was evidence in Mr N Sahay’s
staff quarters. The institute had let the accused person’s brother stay in the
quarters thereby giving him a chance to destroy evidence if any were left in
there after more than a year of the time of crime. I had seen Mr Sahay’s
brother on campus with a cinematography student and I was surprised how the
institute could allow him to be on campus where I too lived. His brother was in
jail because I lodged a complaint. What if he felt like taking ‘revenge’? I
couldn’t understand why after everything I had to go through, after being
called names and being abused, being deserted by friends, SRFTI was again
threatening me with this.
I let the ICC chairperson know of the situation. I
decided to lodge a complaint in case of any intimidation. I called the police
and said that I wanted the house to be searched because I had evidence in
there. The police was also going to question students. The student body member
who had let me know of the arrival of police did not bother to tell me that
there had been names given to the police to question. Whoever gave the names
gave the names of those very students who had taken to social media to holler
on top of their voice that they were all very ‘safe’ on campus. It was
terrifying to see some of them talk animatedly to the police. One of my witnesses
was out of town. I had nobody who was willing to testify for me because even
though everybody had seen the truth they felt ‘safe’ only when they lied.
I went with the police to the accused person’s
house. His brother was living in N Sahay’s room. The arrangement of things had
been changed. I frantically searched for an article I had mentioned in my
complaint. I found it. It was a metal flower. When I gave it to the sub
inspector of Panchassayar police station he asked me ‘what has this got to do
with rape?’. I said that I had mentioned it in my complaint. ‘But your
complaint is 4 pages long’. My investigating officer said nothing. When I kept
on searching for a bookmark that I had given the professor the same officer
asked impatiently what I was looking for. When I said that it was the bookmark
he said that they had seized it in Mumbai when they had arrested the man. He
was carrying it in his bag, I was told. The officer looked at me expectantly.
What was I supposed to do? Jump with joy? I was raped. They were all there
expecting the reaction of a lover. Two different things, dear police. The
officer went ahead to say that he ‘must have carried the bookmark for
sentimental reasons’. I asked him to stop calling it a ‘relationship’ and said
that there were no sentiments involved in rape.
I was looking for an article of clothing which I thought
would be in the house. They refused to open the cupboards. I said that the
accused was not going to keep women’s clothing in his own cupboard so his
mother’s and sister’s cupboards will have to be checked. The inspector said
that in that case if I said that he would have kept it in Sundarbans they would
have had to check there as well. I said that they just might have to. They said
they had no authority to do that. I asked them to return when they had the
authority. The place had been lived in for a week anyway. They had not sealed
it even after it being specifically mentioned in the complaint as a scene of
crime. I called a lawyer I was consulting. He asked me to call back in half an
hour.
I walked back. The moment I left the place I started
crying. I reached my room. I couldn’t bear the solitude in there. For the first
time in my student life here I went crying to a classmate. Debja Ni and Sub
were going to have lunch. I asked them if they could testify for me in front of
the police. They tried to comfort me. I cried for a long time and then went to
the canteen. Debja Ni and Sub testified for me. I felt a little better. At
least they wouldn’t lie. At least they knew what it was like to be isolated because
you decided to speak the truth.
After I recovered from the bout of depression I called
up Swayam, the NGO which had kindly offered me support. On social media
everyone was asking me to get a lawyer. It is easier said than done. I will get
a public prosecutor from the government only after the accused is produced in
court which will be done within a period of three months from his arrest. I can
consult lawyers meanwhile but there is no lawyer who is available to be with me
whenever I face the police. They have their own jobs and families to feed. I
told Swayam about the situation.
One of those days three female complainants
including me had gone to Panchassayar police station to file a general diary
(GD) because we were told that that was the procedure to get call records of
certain dates. These call records were evidence in our cases against professors
with the ICC. We were humiliated at the police station. To get a GD done which
is the right of any citizen we had to shout, plead and cajole the officers for
more than an hour. One whole day was ruined because of that visit.
When Gargi and Suruma from Swayam accompanied me
to the same police station after a few days I was astounded at the change in
attitude of the same police people who had humiliated us. Nobody from the
institute had come with us despite our demanding it several times. When I walked
in there with two women whom they realized are from an NGO they were the
sweetest people on earth. I was too stunned to even ask why there was such a
change of attitude. When I said this to Swayam they said that in other parts of
the country it was worse. I cannot imagine what women go through every time
they approach police. They are treating young educated vocal women like me like
shit. What would they do to women who were seeking justice with nobody to help
them, no knowledge about the legal system and unaware of the ways of the
judiciary.
Following my visit with Swayam to Panchassayar
police station they arrived on campus to seal D9, where N Sahay had raped me
and where at present his brother was living. Yesterday (11th
February 2016) the police came with a lock opener and opened and checked all
the locked cupboards. I couldn’t find what I was looking for. Still I feel
better now that his brother is not on campus.
People ask me why I maintain a public diary. The
answer is very simple. I know that I am not the last woman who is going to go
through all this. Even though every day is a challenge for me, even though I am
depressed, I know that I will survive it all. I write so that any woman who
goes through such an ordeal can gather strength from the story of a fellow
survivor. The only way out of this mess that I see is through women helping
other women.
No comments:
Post a Comment