Saturday, 21 December 2024
Saturday, 21 December 2024
A young girl lay on the road in front of Girish Bhawan in north Calcutta, her clothes dishevelled and what looked like blood all over her body and around her. Then she started reading out lines from The Vagina Monologues, a copy of the book in her hand.
A small crowd of curious onlookers began to gather.
“Natok hocche, natok natok [drama happening, drama],” an older lady began to shout. As the street play got under way, the crowd around swelled, spilling onto the street causing taxis and cars to stop.
“What will happen even after wearing clothes,” the young girl asked. “The state will strip me, what a day has come, what kind of freedom!”
What began as a mere handful of onlookers turned into a crowd, captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Even the street vendors selling fruits paused to watch.
It was August 25. Just another day for the protests that have continued across the Bengal capital since the horrific rape and murder of a young doctor at the state-run RG Kar Medical College and Hospital on August 9.
Another day in the life of Sanjita and her daughter Jhil, who have taken to the streets in protest through the only vehicle they have – their street theatre.
“We start with our plays just as a street-seller does, by shouting to attract attention. Because people need to listen; we need to make chaos,” said Sanjita, who requested not to use her surname because it has “the stamp of caste”.
Since the protests over the rape-murder erupted, the mother-daughter duo and their team – that keeps changing, depending on availability – have performed in front of the Academy of Fine Arts, Girish Bhavan, Tapon theatre, Girish Mancha, besides organising protest rallies in the Dunlop area.
Every day in the morning, Sanjita, who is in her forties, gets ready with an umbrella, water bottle, posters, colours, canvas, art paper, scissors, banners. She and her daughter head out from their home in Baranagar by noon, propelled by their desire to not let the horrific rape-murder be forgotten or forgiven.
The play they have been enacting is called Jhamela. Sanjita wrote it. On August 25, they were supposed to perform it in front of Girish Mancha.
"We took permission from the police to perform but when we reached the place, it was already crowded for Lokenath Baba’s birthday celebrations," Sanjita said.
But then, she and her daughter are made of stronger mettle than to get cowed down in front of adversity.
"When I reached the spot, I said if we can reclaim the night, we can reclaim the streets also. We made a chain by holding hands, even when hundreds of people were pushing us,” Sanjita said.
“The police did not care to inform us about the event there. On other days when our plays are cancelled for some government programme or speeches, I do get calls from the police station but that day the police did not cooperate. There was a huge crowd with DJ boxes for celebration. My question is, the police knew that we were going to perform in front of Girish Mancha, they gave us permission in writing. So, why did this happen?” Sanjita asked.
“Some people came forward to support us and then our chain became bigger and later we shouted ‘we want justice’ and took out a procession from Girish Mancha to Girish Bhawan where we finally performed,” she added.
Her daughter, Jhil, 18, echoed what women across Bengal have been saying as the RG Kar rape-murder aftershocks rock the state in the run-up to Durga Puja, the state’s biggest celebration of the Devi who symbolises womanpower.
“We don’t want to be categorised as Devis; we just want to be humans,” Jhil said. “In one of the scenes of the play I literally have to take off my clothes to showcase the meaning of one’s choice of clothing and owning one’s body.”
The RG Kar incident has shaken them, like it has shaken the city that holds the crown of being the safest city in the country for women – if you believe that the National Crime Record Bureau statistics are a real reflection of law and order.
"Workplaces are supposed to be safe, right? It is our second home," said Sanjita. "When my daughter goes somewhere, I anxiously wait for her text: Mumma, I have reached school, tuition and so on. I wait for this particular information so that I do not have to worry, but after RG Kar, it has no meaning!”
Sanjita’s neighbour, a professor at a prominent Calcutta college, has been deeply affected as well.
"Rapes have been there; it is so problematic and disgusting to say that we know it is there, I supported Sanjita in organising Reclaim the Night protests as the incidents that have followed the heinous crime [at RG Kar] one after the other were taking a toll on me," said Somali Mukherjee, the neighbour.
“Even the college I teach in came out on the streets for the first time in history. The church doesn't allow them to come out and protest but this time everyone is furious. The third-year students pushed hard enough so that they could go out and raise their voice,” she added.
Jhil said the RG Kar incident has shaken her up so much that she cannot stay at home.
"I have been going out almost every day; I cannot stay at home. I feel like I am doing something wrong by staying at home," said the young adult.
The guilt of not doing enough, she said, drives her to continue to take part in rallies and organise theatre performances in different areas of the city, each one a statement of defiance against a system that seems indifferent to the safety of women.
"If I am completely safe during the day, I will not go out at night. But are women safe during the day?" Jhil asked challenging the narrative that staying indoors at night is the solution to preventing rapes.
“Who are we asking for justice from? Is justice someone’s personal property or personal asset that we would get 1 gram or 2 grams from it? What are we asking and how long would this prevail? I meet young girls everyday in college and they are going out to protest and taking their exams as well,” said Somali, anger dripping from her voice.
The constant protests have left Sanjita exhausted, but not defeated. "My entire day revolves around theatre, protest, seminars now. Because what else can I do?" she asked.
Theatre has become her outlet, a way to channel her frustration and anger into something that can provoke thought and inspire change.
Like many protesters on Calcutta's streets Sanjita and her daughter insist they are not affiliated with, beholden to or supporters of any political party.
“And after whatever happened at Nabanna, we will make sure we only join protests where there is no banner or colour or political ideology,” said the neighbour Somali.
“The BJP uses rape as a tool. In UP they said they would dig up graves of Muslim women and rape them. Our CM said the population is increasing so rapes will also increase,” Sanjita said.
In March 2013, during a debate in the Assembly over law and order, Mamata Banerjee had said: “Rape barche bolchen, population toh barche. Bidhan Roy er amole ja loke chilo, ekhon ki tai ache? [You are saying rapes are on the rise, but population is also increasing. Are people the same as they were during Bidhan Roy’s time?]”
Sanjita said: “I did not forget that, I make sure that all the sentences I hear are there in my plays.
This time I am furious. This cannot be allowed to go on. Every time, the CM says something like this. What does this mean? It shows she is not bothered anymore!”
Isn’t she scared for her daughter after RG Kar?
"I am not scared that I have a daughter; rather, I am very happy that I have a vocal daughter," she said with pride.
Sanjita has also written a song that has become a mantra that drives her: ‘Mayer achol klanto holo muche chokher jol, kon deshe te gele pore shanti pabi bol, Bangladesh na Bharat Borsho, na Pakistan e jai? Kon deshe e mey manush k manush bhabe sobai?’ [The mother is tired of wiping tears, where can I go, Bangladesh, India, or Pakistan? Where are women considered as human beings?]
On August 25, as Sanjita and Jhil’s play was nearing its end, it was evident the audience was captivated. Mother and daughter stood before the crowd, tears running down their faces, asking the question reverberating across Bengal and India: “When will women be safe?”
