It was almost 11.40 PM.
Some one was knocking the door and pressing the call bell together.
Suddenly all of us got up…My dad just opened the door to see who was that. One person was standing outside. Dad recognized that taxi driver.
‘What happened, Raghav? How come you are at this time.’
‘Some one is there in my taxi. And he told me bring him to this address. He is your son’s friend it seems. Met with an accident and he is unconscious.’
‘Oh my god!” I ran near to that taxi to see who that was. Everyone followed. Just turned his face towards me. I was shocked.
‘Rao!!!’ Without my knowledge those words came out my mouth. He is completely unconscious.
‘Oh my god.’
We rushed to the hospital.
Next day around 10 o’clock we were able to meet him. Then the real fact came out.
My colleague Ravindra Rao a 27-year old reporter had vowed to find an answer when troublemakers tore down a half –constructed school on the outskirts of city, most people in this eastern Mangalore town saw it as a senseless act of vandalism.
After interviewing witness and talking to Islam’s family, Rao conclude that facts pointed strongly to Hazari, Rao suspected, felt slighted when he was not invited to join dignitaries for the groundbreaking ceremony.
Certain he had the story nailed down; Rao put it over his agency’s news wire few days back. He was not worried about his own safety. ‘I thought if I exposed corruption, the government would back me up,” he said.” I did not think they could touch me.’
Rao was wrong. Just days after his story appeared, the reporter was waiting to catch a ride to meet me when a red jeep and a white van screeched to halt and a group pf men rumbled out.
‘That’s him,’ said one. A moment later, Rao says Hazari stepped out of the jeep and shouted, ‘break his hands and legs, then dispose of the body.’
Rao was forced into deserted community hall and beaten mercilessly with baseball bats, hockey sticks and iron rods. His legs were broken, his arms and hands shattered as he tried to use them to protect his face.
Semiconscious, Rao somehow had the presence of mind to feign death. When one of his assailants put his hand under his nose to search for a sign of life, he held his breath. They waved down a passing taxi and tossed him aboard, telling the driver to dump the body outside the town.
As the driver started his taxi. He heard Rao mumbling. ‘Take me to my friend’s house.’ The driver was able to make out an address that Rao said before slipping into unconscious. So that’s how Rao ended up in a hospital at Mangalore.
With a salary of just 4500 a month and no health insurance, Rao might have remained a cripple. But all colleagues at our office. And fellow kind people around the city pitched in. Thanks to their help he flew to
The bones in Rao’s right hand were so badly dislocated that the fingers had ceased to function but his prognosis is fair. “He should regain about 70percent use of his right hand and 85percent mobility in his left,” said His doctor. (At the end, Rao returned to Mangalore recently to resume the career he’d pursued since his days on school newspaper. Hazari has denied involvement in the assault, but went into hiding after the city police pressed charges, raided his home and confiscated illegal weapons.)
After this incident my Mom was totally worried. She started to tell the work or reporters are always dangerous.
‘Why you want to still work for press?’.
I replied, ‘Why mom ..Why you are worrying? I am working for page 3 . I don’t work always at crime section. After all one day the other we have to die. So what’s in it if we have to lose our life for a good cause?’
‘Job can come and go but life is precious, which cannot come back at any cost.’
I just moved from the spot. Went near the beach, which is very close to our home. My mind was disturbed again that day.
‘Why all are worrying about death…. one day the other it should come. So why should we worry? Death means what? In one way it’s ultimate freedom by this mean world. We should be very happy to get freedom. Why worry? When death comes everybody get afraid? Why? Death is not so far to us. And not close to us. Which is not so far and not so close it will be with us at each step as part of our life. Most of the people think that death means end. But it is not end! It’s beginning. Beginning of a new life, if you go deep in that way. Everyone cannot accept the death. But if it comes to me I will invite him. I am very sure. I will never cry to leave this world. I will be very happy that I am getting freedom by all these. Don’t want to be bounded in false relationships. I know there is only one person for whom I am waiting and want to meet. And that is you. Only you!”
I just wrote these lines in my dairy that day sitting near on rock, which is at beach. Coincidently somewhere from far away I was able to listen AR Rehman’s Vande Mataram album’s my favourite song “Only you”. I just forget myself in spiritual thought whenever I listen to that song..
Ankhon ki aas hai is this dil ki pyaas hai.. jinki talaash hai ..only you..
Na chahta hoo main jannath yahaan …Na chahta hoo main jannath wahaan
Ha chahta hoo main only you. Ha chahta hoo main only you..
(My eyes ambition. My heart’s thirst…
And the person for whom I am searching for …is only you..
I don’t want any heaven here, I don’t want any heaven up there..
Yes. I just want you..I like you. Only you!)
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