“Every tiny molecule of ash is in motion with my heat… I am such a lunatic that I am free even in jail…” These lines from Shahid Bhagat Singh’s jail notebook, printed on A4 sheets, greet the 300-odd protestors gathered on the red sandstone steps of the Administration Block. An amateurish sketch of Kanhaiya Kumar, president of Jawaharlal Nehru University Students Union (JNUSU) who was arrested on charges of sedition and released on interim bail this week after 20 days, accompanies the words of the revolutionary, whose death anniversary is observed across the country by several right-wing student bodies. Ironically, the young martyr from pre-Partition Punjab was also accused of sedition.
The pamphlets are the handiwork of students aligned with Left politics. Working in tandem with them are the handfuls that bring music to an ongoing series of open-air lectures on nationalism, a brainchild of Janaki Nair, professor at JNU’s Centre for Historical Studies. A harmonium, a dafli or two, and lyrics scribbled on scraps of paper are all that these musicians have. While Faiz Ahmed Faiz’s Hum Dekhenge , an iconic Urdu nazm , is performed frequently, revolutionary songs from Bihar and Jharkhand often draw the loudest applause from the audience — a healthy mix of former and current students, teachers, and the press.
About two minutes from this centre of action is the relative calm of Mamu’s Dhaba, an eatery started by a former JNU student. Over plates of
Rashid’s laptop, much like its sleep-deprived owner, has had few moments of rest since the sedition row engulfed the campus. “My friends are using it 24/7, posting updates on social media regarding Kanhaiya’s bail petition, messages pouring in from academicians across the world…” her voice trails off as she tears open an envelope containing an anonymous letter. Replete with abuse, the letter targets Rashid’s Kashmiri Muslim identity for the so-called ‘anti-national’ activities. “This, too, should be posted on social media,” she manages a smile as she folds the paper.
Her concerns over the polarisation on campus find resonance in the voice of Moloyashree Hashmi, the force behind Safdar Hashmi’s Jana Natya Manch (Janam). The group, born a little more than a year before the Emergency, has been a regular at the campus since 1978. “Janam has always considered JNU a good place for constructive feedback,” says Hashmi. Performing at different places within the campus — including the open-air auditorium at Parthasarathy Rocks — helped Janam performers bond with the students as well as the spaces they call their own. “We’d perform at different times of the day, sometimes on Sunday afternoons, sometimes after dinner… and students with affiliations to various bodies came in good numbers. The divide I perceive now is an anomaly in a free-thinking universe like the JNU,” she says.
Crackdowns by the administration are not new in the history of JNU and, if anything, it helped galvanise various student bodies into a united front against excesses. Looking back at the 21-month-long Emergency, CP Chandrasekhar, dean of the School of Social Sciences, says, “We went by our daily routine with some degree of caution — classes, hostel meetings post dinner, making and distributing pamphlets at night. That was one among the few times the police visited the campus, and one of the student arrests seemed to be a case of mistaken identity. But he was not released immediately and kept in jail for long.” There were also a number of daylong strikes and boycott of classes. While some — both among students and faculty — avoided speaking out against the government, many continued to be vocal.
Like crackdowns, violent confrontations, though few, have been a part of JNU history. Rohit, a former JNUSU president who now teaches economics at his alma mater, recalls an ugly episode from August 2002. A sizeable number of students gathered to protest VHP leader Ashok Singhal’s presence at an RSS function in the Administration Block. “Resorting to violence over ideological differences was almost unheard of, but on that day the two groups clashed, the police were called in. We formed a human chain to protect the women, and many of us were kicked and punched in the process,” he reminisces. “It was several months before we could exchange a simple ‘hello’ with those in the other camp. The scars from the recent happenings may take much longer to heal,” he adds.
While no one can say how long the scars will last, Kanhaiya’s friends and family are happy that he is back in JNU ahead of Holi. Addressing a small gathering at JNU last Monday, Manikant Kumar, Kanhaiya’s elder brother, had spoken of his sibling’s love for the way JNU celebrates Holi: “Whenever we ask him to come home for the festival, he says he can’t miss playing with colours on the campus.” While the sedition charges continue to hang over his head, JNU will find Kanhaiya at Mamu’s on Holi, tucking into spicy egg curry and rice — the only meal available at the campus on this day.