THE BLINDNESS OF JUSTICE |
INTRODUCTION
Dr Rashid Jahan (1905-1952), a prominent Indian literary figure, was an early 20th century writer and social activist. She was an active member of the Progressive Writers’ Movement, a communist and is often considered one of the first feminists in the Subcontinent. Her writings, titled ‘Dilli Ki Sair’ [A Trip to Delhi] and ‘Parday Ke Peechhay’ [Behind the Curtain], published in the seminal anthology Angaaray [Embers, 1932], caused a major uproar among the public.
Despite this, Jahan continued to write plays and short stories alongside other activities that included political activism and her career as a gynaecologist. Over the course of her short life, she taught at the Lucknow Nursing College and, later, established a nursing home for women in Lucknow. Her contributions as one of the few educated Muslim women were remarkable, especially considering her short lifespan. She died at the young age of 47.
Originally written in Urdu, the following short story titled ‘Mujrim Kaun?’ [Who is the Criminal?] was published posthumously in the anthology Shola-i-Jawalla, a collection of Jahan’s works edited by Dr Hameeda Saeeduz Zafar. Set during British colonial rule in India, the story explores the theme of justice through a parallel narrative, one that highlights the ironic disparity in how law and justice functioned for colonisers versus the colonised.
WHO IS THE CRIMINAL?
It is evening and the British Club is crowded today. The road is lined with cars as far as the eye can see. Blue tennis curtains fastened tightly to the wall are trying to conceal the club’s day-to-day operations from the filthy and unclean Hindustani eyes. Nevertheless, the Hindustanis occasionally catch a glimpse of a mem sahiba, or a sahib, or some Hindustani officer.
A hockey ground stretches out before the club and it is already crowded with our Hindustani brothers. They move in slow, deliberate steps, but they are all facing the club.
The early 20th century Urdu writer Dr Rashid Jahan’s works were often at the centre of public fury due to their unapologetically confrontational nature. Her skill as a writer is captured in her short story ‘Mujrim Kaun?’ [Who is the Criminal?] — a poignantly tragic tale that offers powerful commentary and insight into the inequality and contradictions of the colonial legal system. Eos presents its first-ever English translation…
Who knows why they’ve gathered? Perhaps the high walls, the drawn curtains, the very secrecy of the place and the constant flow of cars have sparked a longing, a search, as if they have gathered to wait for a spectacle.
“Yaar, that’s the officer from the electricity department.”
“And whose wife, the white lady, is he holding in his arms?”
Laughter breaks out.
“You people are quite something. What if she is just some white lady?”
“If you aspire to be a gentleman like that, perhaps you might introduce us to your wife, our sister-in-law, rather than keeping her out of the way. We’d be honoured to make her acquaintance.”
“We have heard that she is blind in one eye and is also flat-nosed.”
Everyone begins to laugh.
“Look, who are those, the dark ones? How did they manage to pass through?”
“He looks like a crow straining to strut like a flamingo.”
At this, a roar of laughter breaks out.
“Oh, see, that’s the one who signs the hanging orders.”
“I can see, yes, that the judge is stepping out of that car.”
“This one judge truly distinguishes right from wrong, as clearly as one separates milk from water. I can testify, when Fato and I fought, he weighed the matter fairly before setting me free.”
“Oh you jerk, just keep your mouth shut! This discussion requires Fato’s testimony.”
Today is Judge Robinson’s farewell party. He is headed overseas on an eight-month break to get married. A towering jurist, he was the club’s darling, the heart of the city’s English circles. He would even pat the senior Hindustani officers on the back and occasionally invite them for lunch or tea. Thus, they also held him in great esteem. The broader native population was deeply awed by him, even fearful of him. Some trembled before him even more than the formidable public figure, Collector Sahib.
His reputation was unblemished, especially since he was among the rare judges who spurned bribes. Not only that, his grasp of British law surpassed all around him. In simple words, he, perhaps more than anyone else, was the perfect embodiment of the British legal system they had created for the slaves. He took pride in this, in his unerring fairness; the scales balanced, always.
But the truth is that these sahibs, while they carefully guard their private lives from the brown natives, cannot always conceal them. Three years ago, when Judge Robinson was spending part of his leave in Simla, he met Mrs Black. Mrs Black was a striking woman of 21 or 22, newly wed to Colonel Black, and had recently arrived in India.
The colonel was deployed in Ferozepur. He shuttled back and forth to Simla. When Robinson went to Simla, he met Sylvia. Within two or three days, they became quite informal with each other and became good friends. Before long, their friendship evolved into deep love.
Robinson was a lucky Englishman who was sought after by many women. Wherever he went, he was the apple of their eye. He had fallen in love, not once, but many times, with married women, unmarried women and everything in between. But this madness was of a different kind. Mrs Black had become completely oblivious to the rest of the world.
Sylvia was an open book for the world to read and, upon........