RG Kar junior doctors protest: ‘In black and white: we want justice’
“I can’t breathe.” The last words of George Flyod in Minnesota became the rallying point of widespread protests across the US in 2020. The video footage of Flyod writhing in excruciating pain when a cop knelt on his neck and back for over 9 long minutes ensuring his death by choking, united a whole generation, culminating in the protests across the US.
Four years later in 2024, “We want justice” on the streets of Kolkata seems to have a Flyodian resonance. Junior doctors at RG Kar Medical College and Hospital hit the streets seeking justice for their colleague. The rape and murder of the 31-year-old postgraduate trainee doctor at her workplace during duty hours in the night of August 9 has shaken them. They are not afraid to talk straight about their frustration, systemic failure and large-scale corruption. They are determined to make their voice heard against “malpractices and wrongdoings” of the authorities. They care nothing about the wrath of the administration for being vocal. The horrific death of their colleague has broken their fear of saying, “when white apron turned red…”
“We have been vulnerable for too long. We refuse to remain that way. Threats won’t sway us, not any longer. We have endured our share of fear. We have seen our peers sleepless as they scrambled to keep their careers from being destroyed by the ‘system’,” says a junior doctor.
Hence, it travels far and wide, transforming into a people’s movement - in the words of popular playback singer Arijit Singh, ‘E byatha amar noi shudhu ekar’ (this pain is not only mine).” Then there is an “awakening” of the collective consciousness of a middle class that has remained content with having ‘mach-bhaat’ and discussing politics at the ‘rock-er adda’. The Bengali middle class, which is otherwise happy with the status quo, the ‘bhadralok’, uncles and aunts, boys and girls, hit the streets in search of “justice for RG Kar”, as if they have suddenly found a cause.
The victim carried many existences — she came from a humble background, cracked stiff entrance exam to become a doctor, fought against hardships, and ended up being raped-murdered at her workplace. No wonder, people from all walks of life — artists, cine stars, authors, writers, poets, government employees, traders and shop owners are united against the outrage wrought against a doctor who had dreams in her eyes of making it big in the City Of Joy. The emotion and imagination of the collective demand for accountability has only grown.
“These past weeks have overwhelmed our senses. We have realised things we earlier thought impossible,” says another junior doctor.
Regardless of who has ruled Bengal, its substratum has been deeply sensitive and markedly rebellious. Maybe the Partition and the accompanying sense of separation transformed the common psyche into a contrarian.
That churn recurs, shining brightly through the tears of victims of any mindless violence or humiliation of any section, especially women. When Nirbhaya happened, the entire country was shamed and stunned by the outrage. There were countless voices in Bengal expressing strong repugnance to the barbaric act. And, since the rape and murder of the trainee doctor on August 9, Bengal has seen almost a revolt. The defiance of junior doctors out on the streets is no longer simply a question of law and order. It is like a deeply hurt society desperately trying to wipe its tears.
In ‘The Second Coming’, WB Yeats describes a world of chaos, confusion, and pain, with the speaker finally receiving a vision of the future. Will there be light at the end of the tunnel for the protestors? Only time will tell.