e-book
Jupinderjit Singh
(co-Author)
When I first met Sukhwinder Singh 'Mithu', some 12 years ago, at his two room tenement sans a boundary wall, with un-plastered walls, with a roof without any safety projection to keep harsh rain showers at bay , and listened to his story of love with Jassi and her tragic murder, I was immediately filled with anger for the culprits.
I also remember the ache in my heart at the poor sight of the still stout and muscular young man, who, within a short time had experienced extreme heaven in the arms of his beloved and then hell at her separation. He was nothing but a living corpse. I felt lot of pity for him and I think I cried later.
The tears did not cool down my anger for the culprits. I wanted to help Mithu. Strangely, I felt Jassi egging me on. I wanted to confront her mother Malkiat Kaur on how can a mother hand over her young daughter to the criminals ( as claimed by cops). I also wanted to take on Jassi's maternal uncle Surjit Singh Badesha for his alleged role in Jassi's murder and the failed attempt to kill Mithu.
I wanted to ask sub-inspector Joginder Singh, who is convicted for abetting the inhuman crime and proximity to the 12 contract killers, only three of who are behind the bars now.
I wanted to ask Joginder about his duty as a policeman and the oath he took to protect the law of the land and prevent injustice as was done to Mithu and Jassi. I wanted to confront him on how as a Sikh could he be part of such a heinous crime and forget the Sikh Guru's teaching of helping the week and meek and standing up against the evil.
I wanted to ask the contract killers on what all they bought for the money they took from Jassi's mother. Though my experience as a crime reporter makes me understand that contract or hired killers were just faceless and nameless persons, who could have killed anyone for money. But didn' t their heart bleed for a single moment when Jassi was crying, beckoning God and humanity , and compassion in them when they were killing and ravaging her. Or when they left Mithu for dead in the fields and snatched his Jassi forever from him, didn't they think even for a micro-second about the sin they were committing. Just few hundreds thousands of currency notes were enough to make them beasts.
But above all, I wanted to ask the Canada based father and brother of for their mute acceptance of all that was happening around them. They were perhaps the only persons who could have intervened to stop Jassi’s mother in time or alert Jassi and Mithu When would they break their silence? They are still silent.
I was no Hercules to help Mithu. But I had the power of the Pen and the influence of a Journalist. And that is exactly what I could do and I did. Doors started opening. The Punjab police which thought Mithu was alone realised there was someone backing him. And not just I, many journalists in Punjab and many from Delhi helped him. We could not prevent the inevitable. Mithu was finally framed in a false case of rape and jailed. Three years he spent in hell despite being an innocent man and a more innocent lover. He paid price for loving Jassi of higher socio-economic strata. And then the news reports seemed too less a platform to help him. At that moment I sat down writing a book about him. I used to meet him in the jail and saw his barrack. The book "justice for Jassi" began with Mithu telling his story and Jassi's story through him.
As providence had it or as I firmly believe and say, Jassi's soul had it, a journalist sitting seven seas away in Vancouver , Canada, was suffering the same pangs of injustice to Jassi and Mithu. Fabian Dawson, a well known name in journalism owing to his world wide reports on anything that mattered had been to Punjab several times reporting and investigating Jassi's murder and Mithu' s plight. He too visited him in the central jail Ludhiana. But unknown to me he too was doing a book on the love story that had gone awfully wrong.
We both happened to travel by chance together in Gujarat when we shared our feelings for the tragic love story. And the book started taking shape. We both agreed it was one of the most poignant love story of modern times. It was not just another case in our journalisitic life. It was a story which moved us from inside. It is a story which woke us up at the dead of night and we could hear the cries of help of Jassi.
Fabian knew so much that happened in Canada with Jassi before and after her murder. And I knew stuff happening in Punjab. Then, we needed lot of financial support and expertise of someone who bridged the gap between India and Canada , who understood the diverse cultures. This is where Harbinder Singh Sewak, chipped in. His knowledge of publishing, business skills and of Punjab and Sikh ethos ironed out many problems of understanding the complex issue. The three musketeers sat down to work with just one focus: to do our bit for far Jassi and to save Mithu from further troubles, at least , not of his own making.
Jassi lived chasing a dream and she died doing so. She was a free bird. Her wings could not be cut. She had to be killed only to be stopped. She and Mithu were born miles away and nurtured in complete contrasting conditions. Mithu lived in poverty just next to the big house of Badesha's, where Jaassi's mother had lived before she was married off to Canada. And once there, she was a ticket to many of her relatives to the " land of opportunities" that Canada was perceived as in Punjab. Mithu grew up in the shadow of Badesha''s property and influence in the village. Jassi's mother and relatives may not have considered Mihtu and his family existed till Jassi came from miles of away and he along with Mithu scales those high walls of caste, status to try to live a life of their own.
But while they narrowed the gap of continents between them, they could not win over the narrow hearts and eventually paid for it dearly. I had heard or read about the great love stories of Romeo and Juliet, Layla and majnu , sohni and mahiwal but nothing matches a love story that pans out in front of you. Their hearts beat for each other at the first sight. They managed to communicate in an age where there was no Internet or mobile phones in mithu's India and not even a land line phone. He used to travel in rain or in foggy winter at the dead of night to receive Jassi's call at the public phone booth in Jagraon town, nearly 25 Kms away from his village house. They shared their happenings in over hundreds of love letters they exchanged. While translating those letters in to English for the book and the Canadian audience, I fought my tears at the sheer innocence of Jassi. I felt her drawing those roses on the love letters and felt the soft petals she drew. She did make hearts pierced by the Cupid's arrow and some blood drops dripping down those. She may have never dreamt that one day her heart would bleed to death and there would be no one to come to her aid.
She would have never thought that her Mithu would be left alone to battle out the world and live a lonely, desolate life.
The book, I hope would prevent further honour killings. On an average one thousand such killings take place in India, the land which taught world how to love, which accepted all coming to the holy land and embraced all religion, caste and race.
EOM
Jupinderjit Singh
Bureau Chief
Jammu
japs99@gmail.com
99060-27103
9872 999 203
book link -
http://www.amazon.com/Justice-for-Jassi-ebook/dp/B0066BJ91I/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1321317366&sr=1-1#reader_B0066BJ91I
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