DEATH SENTENCE

DEATH SENTENCE

By

J.L. Gupta

What is the most difficult thing that can confront a man? To sit in judgment over another human being. To determine whether the person is guilty or innocent. To decide whether the man should live or die. To Pronounce, "You are awarded - death sentence."

Man is not an uncivilized brute. Nor a mere animal. He is civilized and sensitive. Some may feel sick at the sight of an abattoir. Many may not be able to stomach the sight of an animal being slaughtered. And life is God’s gift. No man should have the right to take it away from another human being.

Yet, the world is not a convent. It is not inhabited by nuns. Nor is it a monastery managed by monks. It has its share of deviants. Children, men and women who do not value life. They wield weapons. Would stab another for the smallest thing. Kill for a few coins. They take away the life of another person to satisfy their own ego. We cannot visualize all that one human being can do to another. Let me illustrate.

A man and his brothers owned a piece of land. Adjoining that of their uncle and cousins. He started installing a tube well. Just next to his uncle's. His cousin requested him to shift the site so that both could get adequate supply of water. He did not agree. The cousin went to the Court. He got an injunction. Even that was violated. The cousin sought police help to ensure compliance with the court’s directive. He got it. The police intervened.  It took steps to ensure compliance with the Court’s Order.

In the evening the man picked up his gun. He let loose all hell on his uncle’s family. He killed his uncle, two cousins and their wives. One of the ladies was eight months pregnant. The sight of close relations bleeding to death did not even bother him. He had just walked away. Six precious lives were taken away in less than six minutes. Three generations were obliterated without a thought. In anger. In a moment of madness. To avenge an imaginary insult. To be one up on the other members of the family. Just to be able to install the tubewell at the place of his choice. He was not bothered as to whether or not they would get sufficient quantity of water.

Then, followed the arrest. Interrogation. Investigation. Commitment. And the trial. The process of law is really trying and tiring. Finally, the trial concluded. The Court recommended the award of death sentence to the accused. The case was placed before a Bench of two Judges of the High Court. The entire evidence was examined. Re-examined. The Counsel did the hair-splitting. Then came the moment. A trial for the two judges. Should the death penalty be confirmed? The accused is young. In all probability, he would have a young wife. Small children too. Aged parents as well. What would they do? How would they live? The Judges imagined and examined everything.

All in all, it appeared to be a traumatic experience. And then, with a grim and solemn look, one of 'the Judges wrote - "Death sentence is confirmed." Both signed it.

Just a sentence? Or, is it a Just sentence? Should a man and a monster be treated alike? It never ceases to trouble me.

SMALL SENTIMENTS

"Small sentiments"

By

J.L.Gupta

“PANDITJI! This ghee is hot. How can I pour it on my mother? It would hurt her." "Do not act like a child. Just do it. Are you not going to scotch the pyre in a few moments?

My father had overheard my protest. Probably, he had noticed my hesitation also. He knew that I had merely followed the direc­tions of the Priest. Yet, he had chided me for having poured the hot ghee over my mother's body.

It was the fateful day in November, 1989. Twenty five years back. Amman (my mother) had spent an uncomfortable night. Dr. Satinder Singh and Dr. Rashmi had remained by her side during the last 48 hours. I was an untrained nurse cum assistant to lend a helping hand to them. The drip was continu­ously on. This was her lifeline. The means of administering fluids and even some medicines, as and when required, to her. A drop went out with every heartbeat. This had kept Amman and our hopes alive for the last two days.

At 8 o'clock in the morning, she had suddenly opened her eyes. Asked for the morning dose of her medi­cines. Four tablets were given to her. She had swallowed each one with a small sip of milk. A drop was just trickling out of her mouth. Mohini had tried to give her a napkin to wipe it off. She had refused "Nidhi has specially embroidered it for me. Do not spoil it. Give me the other one". Having said that, she had just collapsed. A moment more and she was gone. All efforts of the two doctors to revive her had proved of no avail. At precisely 8.07 she was no more. A lot had happened in just seven minutes.

During the night, she had gone through her fifth cardiac infarction. In all, she had gone through the seventy and more years of her life. She had completed her journey on the rough road of life. During these years, she had faced the vicissitudes with fortitude. She had brought us up with care, love and affection. Worked hard. She never grumbled. She was brave. She had withstood her problems well. Followed the doctor's advice faithfully. Never bothered anyone unnecessarily. Helped every­one. Her heart was our school. Her love was our bliss.

When alive, she had problems. Now, she lay totally silent. No movement. No complaint. No discomfort. No pain. No nee­dles. No pricks. Absolutely at peace with herself. Even  with the whole world. There was a quiet dig­nity about her. Life with Him appeared to be better than the life in His world.

We had to now learn to live without her. This was the truth. But we could not forget that even at about the last moment of her life, she was not oblivious of her grand-daughter’s affection and effort. She had remembered the small napkin and the embroidery. And a few' hours later, the family was reluctant to put hot ghee on her despite knowing' that she was about to be consecrated to the flames.

Small sentiments! Simple and sincere expressions of a pure emotion. The thoughts of a blessed association. To be cherished as sacred treasures. Yes. May seem strange. True. But some evidence to show that we are still human. Even humane.

This is what really distinguishes a man and a beast, a human being from the other species. Isn't it?

SMOOTH SEVENTIES

‘Smooth Seventies’

By

J. L. Gupta

The teens were tough. Twenties trying. Thirties thriving. Forties fruitful. Fifties were fun and fulfilling. Sixties have been sweet. And now, how will the seventies be? Satisfying and smooth? Or Sour? Almost half way after the 70th birthday, in July, 2012, when the doctor told me that I had a brain tumor, which was probably malignant,  everything looked possible. But strangely, there was no strain or stress. God gave me lots of strength. A determination to face and fight all that came my way. A little peep into the past may be apt.

I was born in a small town. Not in a fancy nursing home. But in a small bed room. No inoculations or vaccinations. No fuss. Everyone drank water from the hand pump in the house. Ate chaat and sweets laid out in the open. Walked to the school in summer and winter. Sat on the floor. Learnt to write on a wooden board. Sometimes, studied under the light of a kerosene lamp. The teachers were tough. Wielded the rod regularly. The defaulters were punished without any distinction. Played in pouring rain and scorching sun. Gradually grew up. Without ever complaining about anything.

The routine continued even after I left the school. The educationists, governors, ministers and chancellors were regular visitors to the college as well as the university. But no cars with blue or red beacons. Virtually, no noise or nuisance on the road. The ‘sirens’ were heard only during the war. Life was simple and straight. Never heard the word strain, stress’ or ‘suicide’ during my days at the school, college or university.

Today, it is a different world. Everything appears to have changed. While I continue to enjoy the good things of life, I see the children leading a wholly protected existence. Drinking bottled milk and water. Eating fat free food. They go to the school in a bus or car. Preferably air conditioned. The Principal cannot punish her pupils. Everybody says that the system should be free from stress. The educationists adopt the populist line and propose to eliminate the examinations.

Why? When and where will the children learn to face the storms of life? To struggle for success? Probably, we shall have young men who will carry the knowledge of the world in a pocket computer. But will they be able to stand the strain and stress that the present day materialistic world poses? How will they survive in the ruthlessly competitive environment  that we live in today?

Thus, I am never tired of pestering my children and grand children. The grandson often tells me – ‘Dadu! Please chill.’ Yet, the concern remains constant. Looking back, I realise that tough times in early years of life make for a strong body and mind in later life. These lend a spring to every step.

So, I entered the solemn seventies with lots of optimism. Just as the setting sun lends bright colours to the sky, I am sure the years bring a rare rhythm to the life’s routine. Today, the numbers  may count me old. Still, HE has given me something of the youth. I look forward to another decade with no signs of decay. I continue to savour the thought - The seventies shall be smooth and satisfying. And I tell my grand daughter-“ I shall be around when you tie the nuptial knots. Shall not go till I am ‘A Great Grandfather.’It shall happen. Wait and see!