Translated from the original Kannada by Yogesh S
Image: Santhosh Sagar / The Hindu
My dear Gauri,
How are you? I hope you are not laughing at all the protests that are happening after your death here. When you were here with us, you would write the script of your life all by yourself. How is it there? How is it there?
You made a mistake Gauri. Why did you let someone else script the last scene of your life on 5 September? He had gauged your weight all wrong. He wrote a scene with someone shooting four bullets at you, someone who weighed like a small sparrow that would have died on being pushed. What else would a commissioned actor do? He acted the way he was commissioned to act. It is your mistake.
When you were shot, I was sitting in Kalakshetra sipping the last few drops of champagne. Next to me was Vishukumar and Vijayamma. It was the last scene of the play “Chekaav to Champagne”. As it was written in the script, an actor in the role of Chekaav had died drinking his champagne. That is when I got to know about your murder. I walked out of theater and called a media contact to get confirmed, and they also said it was true. I went inside and informed Vishukumar and Vijayamma. On hearing that you were killed, both of them were shocked, we also wondered who was next. On stage there was Chekaav’s dead body covered in a white cloth. Thinking of seeing you in the same place sent jitters down my spine. I remembered my two daughters. The reason why I liked you was my daughters and your father.
It has been around thirty five years Gauri. You father had visited my house in Udupi and had spent a good deal of time playing with my children. Rather, he was a child while playing with them. I never spoke to him much; even when he told me that I should write a story for the Patrike, I had not said anything else other than a “yes”. Anyhow, I never wrote a word for the Patrike. In spite of that, whenever he met me, he made sure he asked me about my children. I liked you because you were a daughter of such a childlike, sensitive father. After some twenty five years, you had visited me in my house in Bengaluru all of a sudden. You were someone who would like to run about freely like that. No one had even returned from my house without eating neerdose and biriyani. You had stayed back till the evening, and you looked like a sparrow when I saw you getting into the lift.
You might be observing the people who are writing various scripts around your death. Some are asking, who killed you. Some are in a state of shock, and some are wondering who got you killed. It seems like these people know who got you killed better than you do. They all agree that our enemies killed you. You were against those who were against our constitution, democracy, communal harmony, who had worn a mask of nationalism and patriotism. As we all believe Gandhiji was killed by the people who were against him. Pansare was killed by those who were against him, Dabholkar was killed by those who were against him, Kalburgi was killed by those who were against him, who else would have killed you other than those who were against you?
You better not laugh at a few funny things that are being said. They have announced a prize of ten lakh rupees for the one who would help in catching hold of your murderer. Ten Lakh is quite tempting. Instead, they could have cleared all your debts. Please do not laugh. No one else other than the police would get that money. Would anyone else pray for death? It is anyhow a crime to transact such a large amount in cash anymore. Would they give a cheque instead? Wouldn’t those who got you killed know about this even before the cheque is en-cashed? Wouldn’t the person receiving the cheque be the next person to join you there?
Some of them here have got police protection because of you. There are gunmen surrounding them in all directions. They were the same people, and would be seen freely walking; and now they have even stopped stepping out of their homes due to the embarrassment this police protection has caused them. Their relatives have stopped visiting them since the police have started to be around their homes. This is self-declared house arrest. Do not laugh.
You were very stupid to be on the side of truth. You kept writing about everything you thought was true. Following your father, even you tried to, and also let the Patrike function without accepting any advertisements. We, who kept telling you how much we liked you, never read your paper. Now we are all assembling in the Central College grounds in the next two days asking for justice for you.
What is justice Gauri? Do you gain any profit out of it? I remember reading it somewhere; apparently justice is something that does well to friends and bad to the enemies. I do not like this idea of justice. Is it not justice to wish enemies well along with friends? I have heard that everyone who is with you there thinks the same. You believed in this meaning of justice even when you were alive. You would address even those who abused you on social media with love.
Our Home Minister also declared that they were successful in tracking down your murderer. It is not difficult for the Karnataka police to track down your murderer; what about the ones who got you murdered.
I am sorry Gauri.
Even this script that I am writing here is incomplete. I am not able to say everything that I feel like telling. For example, it has been two years since they claimed that they have been successful in tracking down the murderers of Kalburgi. If the ones who got Kalburgi killed are not arrested immediately, I am afraid that the meaningless and vulgar words of those who celebrate a death would become truth. I want to say many such things. Do not laugh. Even you are aware that, it is not easy to run a government.
I have a word limit of five hundered words to write this article. I have crossed the word limit. I hope we would find out who got you killed even before these words got published.
Convey my salutations to your father.
One more thing! Never step again on this planet even by mistake. I shall tell you why when I get to meet you there.
First published in the Commemorative edition by Gauri Lankesh Patrike