My sorrows

What I am about to reveal may cost me a lawsuit or a jail term or whatever the lawyers wish to do.  Honestly I couldn’t care less; not any more after having slogged my whole life trying to make two ends meet.  I shall be sixty-one this September and have no idea whether my sons will ever get their rightful heirloom – I found there are many false documents legalised to support the opposite party’s false claims. 

Both cases mentioned here are over and judgements passed years ago.  However, I am questioning one vital factor – do lawyers follow any code of ethics?  Do they adhere to any moral compunction by default or is it left to personal choice?  In the first case I mention here, I also want to know whether a judge has the prerogative to smell something wrong and find out the truth before passing any judgement.  I know the courtroom drama is all about hard-core evidence and not emotions – but the judgement is about humans and for humans who inherently have emotions. 

The first is about my divorce from Ashok Bose facilitated by Tarun Kumar Banerjee – case no filed in the year 1981 and the decree given out in the year 1982. 

One evening in the year 1981 Buddha Bose (my then father-in-law) and Rooma Bose (my then sister-in-law) asked me to get ready and come along with them somewhere.   Did as told without questioning, as usual, leaving my 3 kids with Swapna (my late brother-in-law’s widow) her 2 kids and Bhabani (a Nepali maid).  We went to a house in kalighat, which turned out to be a lawyer’s chamber – more explicitly Mr. Tarun Banerjee’s Chamber.  Sitting in this room Buddha Bose said he wanted me to divorce Ashok and then he would adopt me so I need never leave the house.  He said it was imperative that I take divorce so Ashok, whom he had thrown out with the help of Bulu Ghosh and some big shot in the bureaucracy, would not make an excuse of coming back to the house to visit me or the kids.  The word divorce did raise questions in my mind; however, as I and my children were completely at the mercy of Buddha Bose and his daughter I agreed to whatever they proposed.  My only priority in life at that time was to keep my children safe and sound in their rightful home, at the feet of their grandfather. 

Thereafter, I would often be sent to the lawyer’s chamber if and when he wished to clarify any point or get my signature.  Of course these visits were always paid for by Buddha Bose, since I had no income or bank balance.  Even the lawyer’s fees were sent through me from time to time.  By the time the divorce was more or less final, things were changing at home – the attitudes of the family members gradually became distant and I started feeling like a most unwelcome guest in my in-law’s place.  I cannot put my finger on any exact event or situation but one fine day I was simply asked to leave the house with the kids by Rooma.  Now the house we were in was actually Rooma’s, it was a gift from her mother and the house that was settled for the grandsons was at the time leased to Reserve Bank of India; and Buddha Bose lived on the roof where he had built a well-fitted out flat-cum-pooja room.  He did not come down from there for seven days while I waited to ask him where I would go with the 3 children.  There was no way of contacting him and I was not given the key to the main door.  Finally, after being asked to leave practically every night I collected our few belongings and left for my parents’ place in a taxi, taking it for granted that I would take the fare from my parents. 

The day the decree was given I was called by Tarun Banerjee to come and collect it from his chambers in the evening.  He was aware I was no longer in New Alipore.  When I reached his chambers there was no other client in the room.  He smiled and asked me to sign a few papers before handing over the decree – the first in the bunch was Bank of Tokyo name or account withdrawal form.  I asked him why I should do that.  He replied if I did not sign all the papers as asked there would be scandalous rumours spread about me in Calcutta and I would find it very difficult to live here.  I remember going red and horrified with such low-class insinuations I simply signed all the papers without even seeing what I was signing.  I distinctly remember Tarun Banerjee’s last words as he handed me the decree – “You can get married again tomorrow."

I went to meet Mr. Tarun Banerjee recently after I came to Calcutta – he is aged now.  As he mentioned he is 76 years but he has done well for himself; he is a renowned divorce lawyer in Calcutta and his chambers in Fern Road is plush and air-conditioned.  At first he posed not to recognise me (last we met was in 1982 and it is 2013 now) and then said I used to be a very thin young girl in those days (regular yoga practice kept me in form).  Once recognition dawned on him I asked him a couple of questions.   One – who was his client during my divorce case?  He replied Buddha Bose.  Next I asked him did he not wonder as to why would I, a 29 year old woman with 3 children seek divorce, especially since I had no job, no money, and no boyfriend.  Mr. Banerjee said he had asked Buddha Bose why this divorce and got the reply that he, Buddha Bose would free me from Ashok Bose, his son and then do some financial settlement for his grandchildren and me.  I asked the esteemed lawyer why he made me sign a sheaf of papers and threaten me with defamation etc. when he knew very well that I had been thrown out of the house by my in-laws.  Mr.Banerjee ‘lost his memory again’ and said he did not remember the incident.

Mr.Banerjee then asked me the reason for my visit (since time is money and there was some financially-sound clients sitting in the waiting room).  I showed him the deed of settlement which named me as trustee for the property bequeathed to my sons by their grandmother, late Ava Rani Bose in 1974.  He got interested and said he would love to read the whole thing if I could give him a typed version of the deed, which is an original certified copy from the registration office in Dalhousie.  I got it in 1998.  I have not gone back for fear of my eyes welling up with tears again with all the pain and hurt in his presence.