The Voice of Restraint

The ground crackled in the joy of an unexpected shower. We had just stopped for tea at a little shack on the highway. It has just started drizzling and our driver was beginning to get very impatient. He honked the horn twice to get us in the car soon. 

The tea was bland but the hot fluid flowing down my throat was the only time I could have some uninterrupted bliss. My mind had still not reeled back from the horrible accident I had witnessed a few hours ago. I had become very squeamish about blood and accidents off late. We scurried in to the car and left the place as fast as we could. 

This news package was due tomorrow so I decided to take advantage of this commute and get it done. 

My cell phone rang loudly startling my camera man who was in deep sleep. It was my Dad.

“Where are you now? Didn’t you see my messages?”

“Sorry Appa! I couldn’t pick up your calls. I was in a remote area for an assignment.

“Field work?? What happened to entertainment beat?

“This is nothing serious Dad. Just the usual education stuff. There is no controversy here. I promise”

There was a long pause. I gave him time to take it in. It had been a difficult month for both my family and I. 

“I don’t know what to say! I will never be in peace while you are there in that vicious job and that god forsaken city.”

 “It’s a long weekend and nobody was available at the office. I had to take this one. This will be the last time. Don’t worry”

It was a lie but it was also the only thing that would let him sleep at night. That phone call lingered in my mind for a long time. Finishing my article was not going to happen so I decided to catch up with some much needed sleep.

 

“You have got to hold on sir! Just keep talking.”

I kept repeating as I applied pressure with both my hands on his gut. I had no idea how many bullets were in there but blood was spouting from every direction. I was panicking and my hands shivered even as I dialled 108. I could barely get the words out to the person on the line.

“You will be alright. The ambulance is on the way.”  I scanned the room for some sort of shawl to hold the wound but could not remove my hands. 

I yelled for help hoping some neighbour or passer-by would hear me. But Vasant Vihar is definitely not Karim market. The roads are deserted by day and night. Applying pressure required a lot of strength and I was not going to waste it by yelling at empty roads.

My wrists began to wear out. The pain was excruciating but blood gushed out even with a slight movement of my hand. My hands were definitely sprained, I was only hoping they wouldn’t be fractured. By the time the ambulance arrived, I had almost passed out.

But this is the fastest I have seen an ambulance arrive in Hyderabad. 17 minutes. I counted every second to keep my mind off the pain. 

“Madam remove your hands slowly. We can take it from here” The para medic tried to tug my hand. But I wasn’t ready to let go. 

“Mam are you conscious? Can you hear me?  I want you to let go off him. He needs to be in surgery soon else he is going to die” He repeated again. Blood rushed in to my brain. I looked up at him. He repeated his instruction again by gesturing. I pulled away my hands and blood just rushed through every hole. The paramedics put on pressure tourniquet.  I was soaked in blood .The woman para medic helped me off the ground and put my hand in a sling .Throughout the way I kept looking at his eyes. I knew he was dead. The machines were beeping and the oxygen mask intact. But I knew he was gone. Maybe I knew even back at his home but I just wasn’t ready to accept it. 

But now I was sure he was gone. I said it out aloud like a news broadcast, just the way he taught me to.

“Gauri Ranjan Sir is no more”

The paramedic turned to look at me and adjusted the morphine drip.

I woke up startled. Pearls of sweat had begun to form on my forehead. My driver had swerved to avoid a lorry and hit a road divider and my phone had 18 missed calls from my editor. I didn’t know which needed my attention first. I called my editor, my driver was talking to the traffic police to sort out the issue.

“Sorry I slept off in the car. I am on the way to the office.  I am not on schedule today for the 8pm news broadcast. Is someone on leave?” 

“Where is the driver? How can you be so cool in this situation?

“What situation? We just had a small accident. The driver hit a divider trying to avoid the lorry.”

“Are you serious? Where are you guys exactly? I am sending another car right now!

“It’s not a big deal Arun. I will be there in an hour”

“You have no idea what’s happening here. We had a raid in the morning because of a bomb threat”

I laughed a little. Bomb threats were an all new high even for a news channel. It was usually pelting stones at the windows. 

“So we go from breaking news to blasting news?” 

“Is any of this funny to you Ananya Sridharan?” He was only a few years senior to me and one of my closest confidantes at work. When he mentioned my full name, I knew I was in trouble

“I am sorry sir.”

 “Do not stop anywhere. Come directly to the office”

By then my driver and camera man had sorted out the issue. He was a little jittery after the encounter but narrated his heroic tale with pride once again for me. I mentally ruminated Arun’s words. What did he mean? Where these accidents meant to occur to me?

 

 “Madam please tell the incident to Rajan sir and get me compensation! Else I will have to shell out the money from my pocket!”

“Sure Bhaiya. It’s not an issue”

Suddenly I had an eerie feeling of being watched. The driver went on about his other accident stories but my mind was elsewhere.

 Inhale Exhale Repeat- I did exactly like my therapist had told me to. The car took a sharp left to enter the office campus and I felt a little safer. This was my home away from home and in the last 3 months I slept over in the office lounge on most days.

 

“Who asked you to take this assignment? What if something had happened? You should be more responsible than this! Surely Gauri Sir taught you better” Arun yelled at me as I swiped my ID card at the door. 

“It’s been 3 months Arun. I’ve had enough.” I yelled back at him. “Can we talk in the conference room?” The entire floor had their eyes on us but the news was going on live so they quickly returned to their work.

“You are supposed to lay low until the next hearing. You can’t go gallivanting like old times. Who signed off your unit?

“I did. This is not any huge case. Just the routine educational stuff. I am fed-up of this desk work. I can’t take phone interviews and mailing questions to celebrities anymore. I wanted to get out of here just for a few hours.”

Of all the people in the office, Arun was the one person who understood my work nature after Gauri Sir! His voice suddenly became compassionate towards me.

“I know this is hard for you. You are just like Gauri. He wouldn’t sit at the desk even for one day. But you should know we received a threat in the morning. It mentioned some personal details about you. I think someone has been watching you at home and work. It mentions your entire schedule. The guys involved in this have deep political connections. We can’t take these threats lightly anymore. After what happened to G.R Sir.”

Threats and Abusive messages had become very normal for most journalists in the last few years. The first few times, I had gotten furious and taken it up with the police department. But later it just became so tedious, we would pick just the really funny ones and have a laugh with my friends at the office.

It had become an inside joke for us. We kept count of who had most threats and gave away awards at office events. 

But nobody could beat Gauri Sir. He criticised every corrupt government official, private baron and politician. His news reports overthrew governments and put so many criminals in jail. He received death threats every single day. He paid no heed to any of those. None of us had even seen his family until his funeral at their ancestral home. I had always assumed he was a widower or unmarried.

 

 “I’ve asked someone to pick up some clothes from your house. You can stay in the office tonight” Arun pat me on the back with an all understanding smile. 

One of the interns peaked in through the glass door. “Sir. News night is on in 10 minutes. We have to run through the script”

“I will be there in a minute Varun.”

 “Get some sleep and call your Dad!” He repeated it as he walked out of the conference room. This is how most of the conversations had taken place between us in the last 3 months. 

Immediately after the funeral, I was given compulsory leave and asked to leave the city until the charge sheet was filed. I stood in this very same glass room with Arun and the HR manager arguing how I can’t just run away from everything. 

 “This is not PTSD. I am not going to sit in front of a shrink and talk about my feelings when I can go on field and expose the truth about this case. This is what Gauri sir would have wanted me to do” Tears flowed out of my eyes as I mentioned his name.

“Well he is not alive today is he? We can’t afford to lose any more people on our side. Yesterday they were pelting stones at your house, tomorrow they will be sending masked guys to kill you. You are an important witness in this case. The only way we will be getting justice for him is by keeping you alive until the hearing. Take a small break and go home. Once the hearing begins it will be difficult to leave the city

 And…

You will be allowed to work here only after you have completed your mandatory therapy sessions. Usha Please make sure of it” He stormed out of the room. I slumped in to the sofa in the conference room unable to cry or swallow my tears. I hated the hurt puppy like sympathy my colleagues were giving me. 

  I returned stronger 15 days later after therapy and some home town love only to be put on the entertainment beat because it was the best for my safety

.After weeks of requesting to be changed to the hard news beat, they put me in the education beat but I wasn’t cleared for field work. I had contemplated quitting my job several times in the last 3 months but I simply didn’t have the heart to betray Gauri Sir.

I only hoped things would change after the final hearing. With the accused behind bars, I could do justice to both G.R. Sir and my career. I moped around the office for a couple more weeks. I was escorted to my own home with a private security guard. 

There was only more thing left to do. I had to deposit my testimony before the police before the final hearing. I recollected every single second of that night.

 I had just dropped him off at his house just a little past midnight. He had a pamphlet in his hand. It was about a workshop to master voice to text technology for journalists. 

“In those days, it was compulsory for journalists to know short hand. So that they can take notes quickly during press meets. When was the last time you manually wrote something on a paper with a pen?” 

 I loved listening to his old time stories and pegged him to elaborate more.

“You should write a book Sir! It would be so useful for journalists like me” He laughed again sarcastically.

“Sure! Tomorrow we shall do it” 

He walked towards his apartment. I waited until he disappeared inside the grilled door.

I reversed the car to enter the main road and that is when I realised that he had left his cell phone in the car. The office had only recently convinced him to upgrade to a smartphone. I tried calling his landline number feeling lazy to go back again. When I finally got out and walked back to the house. The iron grilled door was flung open with a thud and one of the three guys had climbed over the wall. It was all happening too fast for my brain to process. They latched on to a bike and it sped away. I was able to barely catch a glimpse of the number plate and rushed in to the house. I felt paralysed in that moment of seeing him on the ground surrounded by his blood.

The police looked like he was about to interrupt me

“Is anything wrong?” I didn’t wait until he was ready to question me

“Are you sure about the order of the events Mam?”

“Did the three men come out of Gauri Ranjan’s House or the next one?” The other official chimed in like they had discussed it beforehand.

 Because there are 3 bachelors living in the next house too!” He looked at my eyes to gauge if I was telling the truth

“I have gone through this at least a 1000 times in my mind since that day. This is how it happened. I only have one regret. I wish I’d been there earlier. It might have made all the difference. So all I can tell you is why he was murdered. I think you already know that don’t you? ”

I finished the rest of my deposition and walked out of the interrogation in visible agony but was also relieved because I had done everything in my power to get justice for my mentor.

 

The final hearing was only at 11 A.M but I stayed back at the office after my night shift. Nobody in the office had moved an inch since the hearing started. All the eyes turned to my manager as his phone rung. His expression was blank like it had never been before. In a few minutes, the news flashed. 

“Due to insufficient evidence, the hearing has been put off until the next quarter. The police have been instructed to investigate if Gauri Ranjan had any personal enmity with anyone in his family and friends circle.”

The entire news room was in a state of despair. Tears welled up in my eyes too. I walked up to Arun and the rest of the E.P’s who were in a discussion.

“Sir. I want do the news segment on Gauri Sir’s case tonight” Arun shaked his head wildly in disbelief. 

“Are you nuts? I don’t think you are allowed to do this news segment. You are involved in this case.”

“What case? This is a dead end. Let me at least give my tribute to that man”

Arun was still unconvinced but he knew it resonated the thought of every other person in that room.

 

We are going live in 3 2 1…”

“This is my first live segment. Probably my last too. There was only one other person who wanted me to excel as badly as I did. G.R. Sir. This is only for you. 

In a few days the courts may even tell you that Gauri Ranjan killed himself. But it is partially true.”

“Ananya! Stick to the script” Someone blared in to my ear piece I looked at Arun. He nodded and I continued with my speech.

“Gauri Ranjan is dead due to his own actions. His actions that spoke for the voiceless people in every nook and corner of this country. He killed himself for helping so many downtrodden people.” 

“The same noose hangs around every journalist in this country. Whenever they begin to write the truth, criticise the government. The noose tightens a little. We scratch off some names, throw away some papers and it becomes alright. But Gauri Ranjan was not one to compromise. Bribes or threats didn’t deter him from his work and that is why he lies somewhere in a burial ground with bullets on his body.

In a few years, somebody would dig up his case and an award may be instituted in his name but the injustice meted to him will remain.

Finally I say this on behalf of the entire journalist community.

“You can keep throwing bullets, grenades and sickles at us. You may wound maim or even threaten us. You can take away our cameras and pens. But you will never stop us from writing, reporting and exposing the truth. Because when all is said and done only the truth will last”

Some people think we did it to boost our channel views. Others think I wanted to get some popularity. But only I knew it was the only thing I could do for the man who made me.