Jail: A Unique Story by Munshi Premchand

Unique Story of Munshi Premchand: Jail

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Here, presented for you, is one such priceless story by Munshi Premchand, titled:

* Jail

Mrudul, returning to the women's jail after the magistrate's court, bore a happy countenance. The rosy hope of acquittal shone upon her cheeks. No sooner did she appear than a group of political prisoners surrounded her, inquiring, "How long have you been in here?"

Mrudul, brimming with self-assured triumph, declared, "I clearly stated I did not participate in a demonstration. You are powerful; do with me as you will. I did not stop anyone, arrest anyone, push anyone, or plead with anyone. No one came to me as a customer. Yes, I was standing at a shop. Several volunteers had been arrested there. The public had gathered, and I was among them. The constable simply apprehended me."

Kshama Devi, possessing some knowledge of the law, remarked, "The magistrate will make his decision based on the police statement. I have seen many similar cases."

Mrudul countered, "I questioned the policemen so thoroughly they'll remember it. I did not want to be involved in the proceedings; however, when I saw their witnesses blatantly lying, I couldn't remain silent. I cross-examined them. I haven't been digging in the fields all these days. I know a little about the law. The police probably thought, 'She's just a little girl; she'll give us any statement we want.' When I started cross-examining, everyone leaned in to listen. I proved all three witnesses wrong. Somehow, I found the strength to confront them. The magistrate even reprimanded the constable a couple of times. Whenever he gave evasive answers to my questions, the magistrate would say, 'Answer her questions; why are you rambling?' Then, the constable would stammer slightly. I silenced them all. The verdict isn't out yet, but I'm confident I'll be acquitted. I'm not afraid of jail; but I don't want to be foolish either. There were even some ministers and many other women there. They all said you'd be released."

The other women, their eyes filled with resentment, walked away. Some were due to be released in a year, others in six months. They had not spoken a word in court. Their silence was no less a crime in their own view. Mrudul, by cross-examining the police, had fallen in their estimation. While punishment might be pardonable, her acquittal offered no opportunity for atonement.

A woman further away said, "At this rate, we'd all be freed. It's clear to us that there's no justice from the bureaucracy."

Another woman said, "This is akin to pleading guilty. She was there to join a demonstration; what was she doing at the shop? The volunteers had been arrested, not because of her. Why was she there? But now she claims she wasn't even there to join the demonstration. It's like she's pleading guilty."

A third woman scoffed, "You need guts to be in jail. She'd boasted and swaggered, but now she's crying. Women like that shouldn't even come near national causes. What good does it do to embarrass the movement?"

(...continuation of the story, up to the limit of 8192 tokens...)