Crime & punishment
Dabangg ko Dand — the headline jumped out from a television screen as a hysterical anchor conversed with melodramatic reporters, putting inane questions — the same ones survivors in Nepal were asked — to attention seekers. I wonder why such hysterical coverage was missing between 2002 and now about the hit-and-run case. But such thoughts, and the jury will be unanimous on this, come to my mind because I am not a Salman Khan fan and from what I have read about him, I do not think that he is a very likeable fellow. Within family and friends I am in the minority. Their verdict is simple: he is being penalised for being a celebrity. Had he not been such a top draw actor, punishment would have been milder. Judges too play to the gallery, the majority in my family opined. I must say this probably is the overriding sentiment in India since judge D.W. Deshpande pronounced his verdict.
I do not hold a brief either for or against Salman Khan. But I do feel that it is a travesty of justice that the case has dragged on for more than a decade. Since 2002, every effort has been made to ensure that the case dragged on endlessly so that it was abandoned after witnesses disappeared or changed tack. Because of such attempts, a closure of the case was necessary. The sessions court had to either find Salman Khan guilty or proclaim him innocent. The issue of quantum of punishment is secondary but this became primary news once the verdict was announced. There is more drama in the chakki peesing act, which may now be in store for the actor.
Filmstars and other celebrities lead dramatic lives. This often makes distinction between reel life and real life difficult. Despite common knowledge that Salman Khan made every conceivable effort to stop the wheels of justice, he received public support because people see him as superhero in real life too. It is as if Khan is acting the characters he plays in various films. The same was the case with regard to Sanjay Dutt, the charges against whom were far more serious. In both case, public support was based on the argument that the offence was an aberration due to nadaani or innocent indulgence. I do not know how anyone can term the acts of crushing sleeping pavement dwellers by a Land Cruiser, or possessing most deadly guns that can kill people as indulgence. Surely, there cannot be separate rules of conduct for the celebrities and well-heeled.
I heard a worry within minutes of the verdict — a huge amount of money was invested in Salman Khan and several projects would face risk if the actor was jailed. However, why should anyone be concerned more about private money of unscrupulous film financers and not about delivery of justice? Can the system of jurisprudence be waylaid by profiteers? By what logic did financers keep investing in projects that signed up Salman Khan and previously Sanjay Dutt? Was it because they believed that money could buy everything? After all, the swiftness with which the bail application was moved suggests that adequate plans had been drawn.
Much has been made of the fact that relatives of victims said that they no longer cared about whether Khan was punished or not, but were more interested in compensation that could help them better the condition of their lives. This, however, should be no justification to plead for leniency towards Khan. Rather, such assertions should be seen as a pointer to a society where dehumanisation has reached such levels that people want to monetise the dead. The memory of the deceased is important only if it yields something for the living.
Salman Khan’s wheels were bloodied several years after he had blood of innocent black bucks and chinkaras on his hand. In two of these cases, Salman Khan was sentenced to prison but is out on bail. At the time of his conviction in the black buck case, arguments and hysteria similar to what is being heard now had been made. If one were to examine the criminality of the poaching cases and juxtapose it with the hit-and-run case, one will conclude that while the former were premeditated crimes, the latter was truly accidental. In 1998, Salman Khan, while shooting for a film in Jodhpur, went on a hunting expedition for entertainment, fully aware that he was breaking the law. In September 2002, when he got behind the wheels, Salman Khan’s rational thinking was probably impaired by alcohol.
Yet, the actor cannot be excused for running away when the police arrived to investigate the case. A report in rediff.com dated September 28, 2002, says that when “police rushed to his house to question him, Salman slipped out through the back door”. The Web portal quoted an assistant inspector of Mumbai police making the assertion. Subse-quently, the case was “managed”. The policeman deputed to provide security to Khan — the one who was present in the car and who filed the initial FIR — died under peculiar circumstances but this was not probed. Khan’s driver mysteriously recovered recently from a long bout of amnesia and recalled that he had been behind the wheels at the time of the accident.
The jail term handed to Salman Khan — or to Sanjay Dutt — is pro-jected as a deterrent for others, especially cele-brities. But punishment as preventive measure is a weak argument. People will continue to violate laws because aberration is ingrained in most humans. But any violation of the law of the land must not go unchecked and legal process must be initiated. Be it Salman Khan or other celebrities, the process of law must remain uniform. Whether people consi-der the person a “dabangg” or darling, no one should forget that the offence was committed by someone who should be treated as just an ordinary mortal, nothing more, nothing less.
The writer is the author of Narendra Modi: The Man, the Times