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ShareThis is a real story. This is a now story. This is a horror story.Shakuntala moved into a 26-home housing colony in Ghatlodia ten years ago. The society itself was forty years old, though you wouldn't think so - middle-class houses with a huge patch of dirt which could have been a garden. Not a tree insight. The society had originally been put together by an extended family, and Shakuntala and her husband bought their home from one of the original owners.
A few months into her stay, she asked a neighbour whether the society had an elected secretary and chairman, and whether meetings were held regularly to discuss common issues. The neighbour shrugged and said that everything was controlled by the old man and his sons and nephews. They did not brook interference.
Over the next few years Shaku got several doses of the chairman's highhandedness. He extended his house to include a garden from the common plot and fenced it off. Then another bit of the common plot was taken over for their garages. No one said a word. She fumed. As the Ahmedabad summer extended this year and the monsoon showed little signs of coming, Shaku longed for some greenery around her. She fenced off two feet in front of her wall, dug it up meticulously and planted shrubs and trees.
By that night all hell broke loose. The chairman and his sons called a rare meeting. "How dare you encroach on two feet of the common plot? Who do you think you are?" they asked. Shaku explained that she had planted trees that everyone could enjoy and took the responsibility of tending for them. "How dare you, without our permission? Do you think all this is your property?"
Without further ado, they marched to her front wall and started kicking down the fencing and rummaging through the earth. Shaku threw herself in front of her fence and was bodily thrown aside. As she screamed at them, a torrent of vile abuse poured out.
By now several other members of the chairman's family, including a son who runs a huge management school in the city, arrived with hockey sticks and started bashing at the fence, the plants and anyone who intervened. Sadly for Shaku, no one did.
All the other neighbours -- two doctors, a lawyer, a professor and many housewives -- stood by as more than ten people attacked and abused Shaku. Meanwhile, the goondas raged that the police were in their pocket and they could even call the chief minister if necessary or have the home minister drop all and come by.
"What the hell can you do?" they goaded. Shaku and her husband locked themselves into their home and called 100. The police promised to come. Ten minutes later, with the attack and the heckling still on, she called again and then a third time. By the time the police arrived, the gates to the society had been locked, and upon seeing the police, a smiling chairman welcomed them in. All the hockey sticks had disappeared.
Shaku told the police what had happened and they asked her to come the next morning and file a complaint. "I want to file an FIR now," she said. They told her that the next morning would be fine. Having given a verbal warning to the chairman, the police left. A frosty calm descended.
Shaku's husband tried to make her go to bed. She pretended to, but once he was asleep, well past midnight, she jumped onto her two-wheeler and went off to the Shahibaug police station to file her complaint. The police were admiring of her guts and took down the details. But by next morning they were advising her not to file an FIR.
"After all you have to live here. If they go to jail, they will never leave you alone."
What should a citizen do in this case? And have we lost all our values that we stand around while an honest citizen is bullied or hurt or worse killed? Who have we all become?
