A Deathly Business

I cannot agree to anyone being sent to the gallows

-- M.K. Gandhi

A group of men and women eagerly gawking through a broken window. They are about to witness a hanging. Asthe hangman pulls the rope the noose tightens but the plank on which the guilty stands refuses to give way.The spectators disperse, disappointed that the circus of death they were about to behold went awry and thehangman looks in exasperation at the solidity of the stubborn plank of wood. 

This is a narrative of an advertisement of the Fevicol adhesive on television. 

The advertisement is probably not new. But watching it about a fortnight after the now-famous hanging ofDhananjoy Chatterjee, sentenced to death for raping and murdering a young fourteen year old school girl, theadvertisement leaves the viewer with more than a little apprehension about what evokes humor in our societyand what sells.

Dhananjoy Chatterjee’s death was written about fairly extensively. There were serious arguments put forthboth for and against the death penalty and about the relevance of a sentence that had been reversedinnumerable times. Many forwarded a counterfactual as to what would have happened if Dhananjoy came from aricher social class? All of these are relevant issues, certainly matters that should and do constitute thefabric of a robust public debate.

But there is a seamier aftermath to Dhanajoy’s death, one that I want to briefly draw attention to here.It is seamy because it shows that there exist many small-time, petty death merchants who would not pause evena moment to make a quick buck. Seamy because we haven’t taken the time to consider the repercussions thatthis hugely publicized death penalty might have on the fragile and impressionistic minds of our children.

First a few facts. 

Since August fourteenth, the day of the hanging there have been close to ten deaths of young childrenreported who had been playing the death "game". Almost all the accidents have occurred in middle and lowermiddle class homes where adults have avidly discussed the death penalty, where the television reports on theevent made up the stuff of adult conversations with little attention paid to the little ones who soaked up thenews without even beginning to process its gravity. 

And then when the elders are out at work the kids usually siblings or friends have met a sudden and fatalend as they have tried to reenact the phnashi to amuse their younger audience.

The second fact was brought to my attention by a friend in the city’s police department. He remarked thattwo years earlier in the aftermath of 9/11, sculptors in Kumortuli -- Kolkata’s hub of potters, imagemakersand sculptors -- were besieged with orders of Mahishashura idols resembling Osama Bin Laden on the eve of theannual Durga puja. This year apparently the craze is for demons that will be Dhananjoy lookalikes. 

Let me clarify here that Kumartuli sculptors have emphasized that Asura’s look is not a reflection oftheir taste, but what the client orders. Since the funding of Durga pujas has now passed out of the limitedpurses of particular localities to large sponsors it is imperative that organizers of the puja pandals attracthuge crowds to justify the huge resources expended on them by corporate giants and manage to stave off theircompetitors. 

Thus Dhananjoy statues are the rage of the season. Not content with having the demon resemble Dhananjoy,electricians in Chadannagar, the state’s major center for fancy lighting has also been inundated with ordersthat will depict the hanging in a series of illuminations.

The third fact has to do with the way in which the Dhananjoy murder has acted as an energizer to Bengal’sflagging jatra industry. Jatra, an old art form has been struggling to find its niche market since it lost itsmass appeal to cinema and subsequently to television. As a result, nuance and empathy have long becomenugatory requirements for Bengali jatra makers. 

Slapstick comedy, excessive melodrama, and crude sexuality satisfy most modern-day jatra companies. Twosuch companies, Natyaniketan and Manjari Opera have already started their advertising campaigns for "DhananjoyerPhnasi!" and "Phnasi Hoy Gelo Dhananjoyer". Historical figures like Bhagat Singh, Khudiram Bose, haveall been the subject of numerous plays and films. What’s to stop the jatra makers’ from capitalizing onthe latest in the death game? 

Never mind the ocean of difference that distinguishes the most recent recipient of the death penalty fromthe figures from the nationalist period. The rape and murder committed by Dhananjoy Chatterjee’s death waswritten about fairly extensively. was morbid and macabre. Even more so was the continuous reporting thatfollowed after the decision of capital punishment was announced -- what Dhananjoy ate, his proclamations ofinnocence, his daily habits, the reactions of his parents and wife. 

These atavistic reactions to death, stripped of all its complex and disturbing components, will soon beladled out to a voyeuristic audience for the price of a jatra ticket. In this age where speed is sacred h/shethat grabs the earliest scoop is rewarded for their enterprise. Such is the simple logic of the jatra maker.

The last fact with which I close this little piece is the way in which the hangman Nata Mullick’sfortunes -- and I use the expression "fortunes" in a considered manner -- have been transformedafter his most recent performance. A few days ago Mullick's face appeared next to the renowned actor SoumitroChatterjee in one of the city’s leading dailies. Mullick is now a budding thespian, playing the part ofChatterjee’s bodyguard in a new television serial. 

He is also on top of the list of VIPs who are invited to inaugurate Durga pujas pandals. Every autumn, thegoddess who slew the demon Asura is worshipped in a annual five day festival by Bengalis. And who better toinaugurate the pujas than Nata Mullick, the slayer of the rapist and murderer Dhananjoy Chatterjee?!

These are minor matters in a city that (like the rest of the country) is rocked by huge inflation, thewoeful performance of a cricket team and the mahamichil or grand procession of September first that promisesto undo global imperialism, not to mention the sordid political impasse in the country.

Many had argued that Dhananjoy’s death would set an example to future offenders, even if he was one amongthe thousands of rapists and murderers punished it would still act as an example in a society where crimesagainst women and children are rising dangerously. 

The little factoids that appear in the city’s dailies seem to suggest otherwise. Perhaps in the maelstromthat our lives have become, we could still take a few minutes and ponder the really far reaching implicationsin the statement made by Mahatma Gandhi to the our society and its public.

Rochona Majumdar, currently in Calcutta, is Harper Fellow and Collegiate Assistant Professor, University of Chicago