LETTER FROM THE EDITOR
NOBODY IS SURE about the number of martyrs who died in the Jallianwala Bagh massacre.
Let that sink in.
This seven-acre, walled garden with five entrances is one of the fountains that continue to water our tree of freedom. It unites Indians across the length and breadth of this nation. It is known that 1,650 bullets were fired on the day of the massacre. It has even been fairly established that 120 bodies were recovered from the well in the Bagh alone. But, nobody knows for sure how many people died on that fateful Sunday in Amritsar. All we know is that everyone in the Bagh that day stood up to be counted. They deserved to be counted.
As a history student, I have always felt that the Bagh symbolises perfectly Lord Krishna’s message to Arjuna. That oft-quoted verse from the Gita. To perform one’s duty, and not to be concerned about the fruits. The martyrs who died for us on April 13, 1919 did just that.
This special issue marks the one hundred years of the massacre. Senior Special Correspondent Mandira Nayar has written her bouquet of stories engagingly and curated the issue skilfully. We have Chief of Bureau R. Prasannan’s brilliant piece about the Sikhs’ love-hate relationship with whoever ruled India. Deputy Chief of Bureau Vijaya Pushkarna interviewed Captain Amarinder Singh, in addition to writing an article on lawyer C.H. Setalvad, Teesta Setalvad’s great-grandfather and the man who cross-examined Brigadier General R.E.H. Dyer. We round off the package with a graphic novel by Designer Deni Lal and Subeditor Nirmal Jovial.
As I write this letter, British Prime Minister Theresa May is issuing a statement on the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in the House of Commons. As expected, May has stopped short of issuing a formal apology, which was sought by many Indians and a cross-section of the British parliament. In addition to reiterating the “regret” already expressed by the British government, May said, “The tragedy of Jallianwala Bagh of 1919 is a shameful scar on British Indian history. As Her Majesty the Queen (Elizabeth II) said before visiting Jallianwala Bagh in 1997, it is a distressing example of our past history with India.” Shameful scar? Typical British understatement, I say.
Anyway, my concern remains about the nameless, unnumbered martyrs. Indians are generally relaxed about record keeping. I feel this can only be improved through initiatives undertaken by families. How many generations can we count back? What did they do? Where did they live? What did they die of? Family health trees are being compiled now, I am told. Only when we are in the know about the facts of our own family will the ripples spread out. A movement to set the record straight is something that is most necessary in this post-truth era.
My own extended family has an annual reunion, which brings together multiple branches of the family. The kudumbayogam binds people from different generations. It is a joy to hear old stories, covering everything from gaffes to pranks to stories of entrepreneurship and courage. And, it is also an opportunity to meet the young ones and be reassured that the future is in good hands. It is, in many ways, an occasion to receive the torch and pass it on. And an occasion to remind myself that I am not alone.
In our story, Satpal Sharma, grandson of Jallianwala Bagh martyr Amin Chand, said that his father took him and his wife, Krishna, to the garden soon after their marriage. “People go to the mandir after marriage,” Sharma said, “But for us, Jallianwala Bagh is our mandir.”
If that story does not inspire us to become better Indians, what else will?