Bluestar, the shock & awe

Sandeep Sinha

IT was a relaxed morning for us on June 10. A day earlier, our exams for Intermediate in Arts (equivalent of today’s plus two) were over. I was staying in the hostel of St Columba’s College in Hazaribagh, Jharkhand — 45 km from Ramgarh where the Sikh and Punjab Regiments were located. I was making plans for an outing in town with friends before heading for Jamshedpur where my parents then lived.

 It was forenoon when an order was received from the hostel superintendent, Dr DPL Das, to lock all hostel gates. The word spread that there had been a revolt in the Sikh Regiment in protest against Operation Bluestar in Amritsar. Rebel soldiers had shot Brigadier Puri, the Commandant. The college, built by Irish missionaries in 1899, is located on the Ranchi-Patna highway and the order was a precautionary measure against potential trouble.

 Some friends rushed to the roof of the adjoining block of the hostel for a view of the highway, which was blocked by trees. We later learnt that the soldiers had taken away fruits being sold on rehris near the bus stand. They had also taken petrol forcibly for their vehicles from a petrol station located in the heart of the town, through which the highway meanders. However, there was no instance of any physical violence. My roommate, Ashutosh Indraguru, now a geologist, had sneaked out and recalled seeing the soldiers waving their guns and shouting slogans as they made their way through the town. An uneasy calm prevailed.

 The next day was an eventful one. The BSF arrived from Meru, 8 km away, where the paramilitary force has a training centre. Their motorbikes were seen parked near the hostel gate that led towards the highway. A helicopter hovered in the sky. Soon, the Army trucks carrying the rebels were seen making their way back towards Ramgarh. I remember sitting at my favourite Panditji’s teashop and watching the scene unfold. The trucks were not covered and as they passed, we could see the soldiers sitting quietly, their hands tied behind their back with ropes, hair tied in a bun.

 As we watched in stupefied silence, a sense of shock and disbelief prevailed among the bystanders. Avtar Singh, a Sikh transporter and a family friend based in Hazaribagh, said his bus was sought to be commandeered by the soldiers in Ramgarh. The bus plied on the Hazaribagh-Ramgarh-Patratu route. Showing presence of mind, his driver pulled out the ignition wire and the bus did not start. He was threatened by the soldiers but was eventually let off.

When we finally got permission to leave for home, I took a bus for Jamshedpur. As we approached Ramgarh, I could see the heavy Army deployment. Stengun-wielding soldiers were everywhere, including the rocks on the banks of the river Damodar. 

Later that year, anti-Sikh riots broke out after Indira Gandhi’s assassination. There was trouble in Jamshedpur also. In my teens then, I recall that whenever the police approached, troublemakers would shout, ‘Indira Gandhi amar rahe’.  The police would move on. 

After so many years, efforts have been made to apply salve on the wounds. One only hopes collective wisdom prevails to keep social harmony intact.