The Class X student in the well-known Hindu School in north Calcutta received a flurry of abuse and criticism from his teachers, schoolmates and neighbours. Anyone writing so knowledgeably on AIDS, they complained, must have had sexual encounters of the wrong kind himself. In a highly image conscious city that prides itself on its non-conformist iconoclasm, the young writer found himself the target of a hostile society that treated him as a victim of the disease he had dealt with.
Says a local journalist covering the incident: "Sanjib had written that experts feared that around 40 million people would be found HIV positive and about 10 million would be suffering from AIDS by the year 2000. The use of condoms during sexual intercourse was therefore advisable and promiscuous casual sex had to be curbed. Women infected with AIDS should not go in for marriage, because their children would certainly also suffer, and more in the same vein. The boy quoted some official figures and also identified his sources." Since all this seemed to have fulfilled the minimum norms of journalism and since much of it is by now well-known information, how could an apparently harmless report occasion such a major controversy?
Basu himself is naturally reticent about identifying his teachers in Hindu School, the proud nursery of some prominent freedom fighters. Schoolmates say this is because he fears that since he has to face his secondary exams this year, speaking out too boldly would make things difficult for him. Says one of them: "One teacher, who had not even read his piece, asked Sanjib what had he written, on hearing from other students about it. When he replied, AIDS, he flew off the handle and berated him for having chosen such a topic." Basu was ragged by schoolmates and found that going to school was becoming difficult. Lewd posters were stuck on the walls of their house on Iswar Mitra Lane, a congested side alley of Bidhan Sarani in north Calcutta. "The boy found little support, could not study and thought of committing suicide," says a neighbour.
"When he first came home, all excited and close to tears, telling me what had happened at school, I am afraid I lost my temper," says his mother. The boy felt let down and later complained of lack of support from his own family to others. His father Priyabrata Basu, a businessman, was more sympathetic. The boy had done nothing wrong, he said, and should not be unnecessarily scolded or harassed.
He was losing sleep and was on edge, hardly eating anything. Finding things too uncomfortable, Basu's mother thought of seeking psychiatric counselling for her son, who was sent to his maternal uncle's house in Hooghly district.
When Basu spoke to Outlook , however, his poise had returned. "I know I have done nothing wrong. I will never forget my teachers who said such unkind words about me. I will not name them to you for obvious reasons, for we do not want any more trouble. But I have many things to get off my chest, only I have to forget all this with my major exams so near."
His headmaster Sailesh Biswas, however, was described by local papers as having been non-committal about the issue.
The editor of Pratidin , veteran journalist Sankar Ghosh says: "The school authorities sent us a letter stating that Sanjib had faced no harassment from the authorities over his article. This gesture on the part of the authorities is significant indicating they wish to dissociate themselves from the controversy." Basu, however, was not entirely satisfied. "I have not been told about this letter from my school to Pratidin . All I know is that the paper indicated to me its reluctance to carry follow-ups on the matter after a point."
The same mindset can explain the surprising indifference in an otherwise enlightened city to mob lynchings and other scandals nearer home. Says writer Moti Nandi: "After all, Calcutta started off as a cluster of villages. This explains its frequent lack of urbanity at critical times. Regardless of official literacy and other figures, changing the general mentality of a society is a major endeavour that would require at least the work of two or three generations." In a sense, Nandi is echoing the words of Mirza Ghalib, who on a visit to Bengal, is reported to have been both impressed and appalled over the progressive and dark sides of life in this area in his time.
