A day after Manjunath, a film retelling the story of the heroic Indian Oil Corporation employee hailing from Kolar, hit the multiplexes, his brother Raghavendran Shanmugam plucked up the courage to watch it, in a fairly empty hall, at Forum Mall.
"I sat in the last row, all by myself, and could count about 10 other people in the theatre. And I don't really mind. After all, it's not a blockbuster," says the MNC employee, whose family was struck by tragedy in 2005, when Manjunath Shanmugam was shot dead, by one time friend 'Monu' Mittal, whose petrol pump he had ordered to be sealed. Manjunath had found that adulteration of diesel with kerosene was a common practice and he wanted to take a stand.
Sitting across the table at a cafe in Jayanagar, it is apparent that even when Raghavendran confides or when he talks of his brother to anyone else, he's often talking to himself, convincing himself to accept that 'realities are hard to digest'.
As he walks down memory lane, often breaking off when the most painful associations resurface, taking up the thread when he's more composed later on, he's quick to thank those who helped him through the difficult times.
The Manjunath Shanmugam Trust that ensured justice; media that provided coverage and upped the pressure; Akhil (Krishnan), a friend of Manjunath, who helped his sister get a job; Sudha Murty, who sent across a `5,00,000 cheque; advertising firm entrepreneur Sandeep A Varma who turned film maker with Manjunath to bring out the brave-heart's message.
Making of the Film
Yet the film itself and its making hasn't been too easy on the bereaved family. Though well-intentioned, Raghavendran says that it preyed on his parents' conscience when they watched the screening at IIM-Lucknow in 2012 . "To see it all played out on the big screen, their son being shot, it made my father question whether he did the right thing by agreeing to the making of the film. They (both his parents) still wonder if they could have prevented it (the tragedy) by stopping him from going back (to Lakhimpur)," he shares.
Moreover, since Sandeep wanted to stay faithful to facts — apart from introducing music and a band as Manjunath was known to be a good singer and having a protagonist who is already dead as the narrator of the story, which his brother acknowledges as a director's creative choice — some of the questions he asked rankled the family further.
"If someone wants to know how much my father earned, whether my brother was mentally stable or not and stuff like that, it's hard, especially when you're still grieving," he says. "But it was needed," he allows, reiterating that harsh realities are difficult to come to terms with.
Procuring Justice
Although it doesn't lessen the sense of loss, knowing that Manjunath's killers aren't roaming free is a comforting thought, feels Raghavendran.
"The police had brought them in. What was required was that an FIR be filed and the case be taken up," he says. So the family, then still based in Kolar, was grateful when the Manjunath Shanmugam Trust with the primary aim to get justice for the slain hero was formed.
"The FIR had to be lodged in Lakhimpur, UP, where he had been killed, and travelling up and down for a family that had just lost the primary earning member of the family, wouldn't have been possible," he explains.
He goes on to say that if they hadn't been found guilty, society might have blamed Manjunath for the tragedy, for not being smart enough to keep a safe distance from trouble — people might have believed that he was somehow in the wrong. "At least, my parents don't have to listen to all that — the doubts, the theories — now," he says.
The court first awarded seven of the killers a life term and the prime accused 'Monu' Mittal ..death penalty, which was later commuted to life imprisonment. How does he feel about it?
"There was a time when I'd have said I wanted him dead because I was still smarting under the loss. Now, I'm just glad punishment is being meted out to him in accordance with the law," he responds as he recalls that 'Monu' had even been a guest at their house before things between the pump owner and Manjunath turned bitter.
Personal Struggles
Ever since they were children, though just one-and-a-half years apart, Raghavendran remembers looking up to his older brother and depending on him. So much so that even though he had started working while Manjunath was still alive, he didn't take his job too seriously. "If ever we wanted money — or anything for that matter — we would turn to Manjunath. He was the one who was consulted when a decision had to be taken, not my sister or me," he says. But soon after his brother passed on, his father was due to retire from BEML, and Raghavendran knew that the responsibility of supporting the family lay with him. That was when IOC offered him a job.
"My sister had got a job and moved out, but I wanted to be closer to home in Bangalore. When the offer came up, I was vengeful and rejected it outright," he says.
However, his father persuaded him to attend the interview, where he found that the company's main preoccupation was with the idea that their, "reputation had been tainted" by Manjunath. He was disgusted. He decided to wait for another opportunity, and his patience was well rewarded; he landed a job in an MNC, which he has been happy with for eight years now.
However, he feels that he can never help fill the void the untimely death of a son has left in his family's life.
"I might be able to reconcile myself to it. I have my own schedule, job, friends and social life. I recently got married, in December. But my parents are at home most of the time. If anything reminds them of the trauma they've been through, they go back to that time and begin to brood," he says.
So he tries to shield them from it — he insists that whoever wants to talk about Manjunath does so with him. Repeated attempts to encourage them to travel or take up an activity or hobby have failed. He hopes time will work its magic.
A Lasting Connection
"Unlike me, who preferred to go along with the flow, my brother refused to keep quiet if he could not stand something," he says, as he retells an incident that occurred a few months before Manjunath was killed. The IOC employee was travelling home from Lakhimpur by train when he noticed that a girl was being eve-teased.
"He just went and bashed the guy up. He told me about it later, and when I asked him why, he said, 'Why should he trouble the girl? She was minding her own business'."
Even as far back as in school, he remembers that his brother was different from other schoolchildren ("Of course, each of us is unique," he adds).
“When he drank something from a paper cup, he’d be the only one to hold on to it until he spotted a dustbin. If I fell down, he’d be the first one to hear of it and come give me a hand up,” he shares.
Over the years, the younger sibling grew to trust that the older would be there to back him up whenever necessary. “I thought I’d lost that once he was no more. Surprisingly, I still feel that he’s right here with me, having my back,” he expresses.
Fight Against Corruption
“People have asked me what I’m doing to fight corruption, and I’ve replied, ‘One person sacrificing their life in my family is enough; I don’t think we need another’,” declares Raghavendran.
He says, as much as he admires his brother’s courage, Manjunath has left behind a family struggling to piece together fragmented lives. “It took five years for realisation to hit us that he was actually gone,” he continues.
He talks of the initial days when he’d wake up crying in the middle of the night, walk unseeingly on roads, finding himself at a destination not realising he’d walked there. “There were times when nothing would make sense, when I couldn’t think, and the only thing I could do was go to sleep,” he says.
So he has chosen to work at a private firm, “where daily operations run smoothly, where I know there’s someone to scold me if I slack off.” Not that it’s always easy work, for here too one has to work hard, overcome challenges, but hurdles fraught with risks are absent.
“Though now I try to think more like him, I don’t have the courage my brother had,” he says unpretentiously. And he feels that an individual standing up against corruption can leave an impact but not change the system.
“A person who gives a bribe is at greater fault than the person who receives it. For a corruption-free system, everyone has to understand these ideals and and live up to them. Only when that happens will society change,” he says.
And like everyone else, he too can only hope that the day is close at hand.
