Pilgrimage | Konyala Sai Ram

The man, short, never allowed by the burden of responsibilities and financial needs to grow tall; dark, naturally, due to working in the broad daylight and melting heat. A usual day in his life would start as early as 6 in the morning and last till 6 in the evening allowing ample time in the evening to spend with his family and attend to other responsibilities. Sleep would be summoned by eye lids just as the darkness spread across the sky.

As they believe, a pilgrimage cannot be undertaken without the wish of the deity for someone to visit him. A day came in the life of this man, it brought news that the most knowledgeable person of the region wanted his presence at their place for a specific reason. Astonished by this call, which he had never experienced it in this manner, he was most surprised to learn that he was informed to be present at a certain place sometime later in the future. He was used to being called in the last minute, hurrying, worrying and unaware of the reason. But now, informed well in advance and aware of the reason, as a matter of fact, he had to search for a kind-hearted person to read and explain the message from the piece of paper he revived. Eventually, he got to know what the message was, and prepared himself to go and find out more about it.

The day came, he dressed in his best outfit that he had been preserving for a long time. Although it didn’t meet society’s standards to be called “the best”, it was clear, if by any reason he missed it, it would cost him dearly., As he was about to start. his son,probably of six or seven years old, came running. Dark, from playing all day. (what else can he do?)Eyes bright and dreamy. The boy began crying, insisting he wanted to go with his father. He gave into his son’s pleading and agreed to take him along. The boy was also dressed in his best outfit. And so, their journey began—a pilgrimage.

They reached the place where they were ordered to come by 10 O’clock sharp despite all the hurdles, direct and indirect. As they stood in front of the building, fear took over his mind, and it was clear on his face. Confusion and tension accompanied his fear. Curiosity sparkled in the innocent eyes of the boy, who was afraid and shy to show up in a place he had never known or heard about. He hid behind his father, pulling the tip of his shirt.

In front of them stood the majestic two-storied building. Though modern in construction, one could smell the scent of old and rustic papers, narrating the history of the place and the outcomes of various conflicts. Anyone who entered would helplessly feel haunted & unsettled. The Main entrance leads to a nexus of corridors, resembling a huge maze. He could hardly understand or analyse it, staring wide-eyed.

He held the boy’s hand and went in, showing the piece of paper asking for directions to the place he was supposed to go. The first few attempts were futile, then a man hesitantly guided him. He reached the door of the place where he was summoned. Out of curiosity, the boy hurried and stood by the door, amazed to see the king-sized room with a U-shaped table in the middle and a part of the room that was slightly elevated. He had never seen a room of that immense size, so well-lit with fans to dispense air.

As the time passed, more and more people gathered. The hall became crowded in a matter of minutes. Not knowing whether to enter or not, the man made himself comfortable sitting on the floor in the corridor. Both father and son watched the people walking here and there in astonishment. Then they heard a bell ring, indicating something they don’t know. Just as the bell was ringing, a weird sound was made by a man in white with a red strap across his torso: “Shhhhhhhh…” Everyone in the corridor moved aside, giving way and greeting someone who was coming through. The father and son, too moved aside quietly watching the people hurry by.

Then, everyone started settling down., The father and son stood at the door, peeping into the crowed hall. The boy watched curiously with rapt attention. There were men and woman, all in black and white, sitting at table in the middle of the hall. Most of them lost in the files and papers scattered all over that table. They all wore multiple layers of clothes, but still only in black and white. The outer layer was so flowy that it reached their knees. Some allowed their outer layer to flow with liberty, freely off their shoulders, as if attempting to stay down to earth, otherwise they might float in the air like a balloon. The Boy looked down at his legs noting his soiled pants had grown out an inch or two.

Some wore thick glasses, others thin, but it was explicit that everyone had something on their minds, traces of it were visible on their frozen faces. There was a heap of papers and bundles in front of the elevated platform, quite a large pile of them, and the boy could not see what was on the other side of the elevated platform. After observing for a while, he saw something black move up and down and figured out that it was a man siting on the other side of the paper piles. Few people stood below in front of him, reading aloud from paper after paper and passing them to the man on the platform. While the duo was lost in watching all these happenings, a sharp voice shook them to the core. It was a man in all whites with a red strap, asking, “Why are you standing here?” Not sure what to say, the man showed the piece of paper. Upon seeing it that man said “ Okay, go over there and wait for your turn along with others.” pointing to the other side of the hall and showing them how to go there. This duo went there and felt relived at the sight of people ‘like’ him waiting. The man closely examined all of them, a sigh of relaxation passed over his face. Most of the people waiting there were from similar background, with one or two from a completely opposite background.

But this relaxation from familiarity didn’t last long, he was brought back to sense by another voice, this time strong, hardened with ‘unidentified authority’. He saw a tall, moderately built, middle-aged man, with a drooping moustache and round-edged glasses, wearing a similar multi-layered outfit with a long black outer layer. The man looked straight into his eyes through the gap between his glasses and forehead, asking “Did you bring the required papers?”.

He pulled his son close and looked away from the man, pulling out his piece of paper and showing it to him, unable to meet his eyes out of fear. Thet man after examining the paper, scribbled something on it and grumbled, “You didn’t bring any paper with you? How negligent … don’t come again without these next time. You will be informed when to come back. Until then don’t go; wait for your turn.” Saying this, he quickly vanished into the crowed.

He held his son’s hand and stood their patiently, watching what was going on. He saw people who were waiting with him to in when the men in whites and red strap signalled, then stand in a corner of the hall, bowing with utmost ‘fear’, just like they were taught to do so whenever they saw a personified supernatural being on the face of a rock. They were uncertain of what to do next. He stood up involuntarily when a voice calling his name thundered in his ears.

“Mr……..” he stared at the men in whites and red strap. They signalled him to come closer and instructed, “ Go in, stand straight in that corner and bow.” He then went in, stood at that corner, and bowed as instructed, in the same way as he had learnt from his childhood, a habit this society would never let him change or forget. He stood there in the corner, trying to understand what was happening on the other side of the hall. There he saw the same man in a long black over coat standing in front of the elevated platform, talking to the man, who sat behind the immense pile of papers and bundles, surrounded by books, files and papers, listening patiently to all those who came in front of him from the beginning of the day. This man is said to be the most knowledgeable of the locality.

Those who sat at the desk on the elevated platform were entrusted with the responsibility of administering the most precious and the rarest finding of the entire human civilization: justice. They are equipped with the skills of not just understanding every line in the law of the land but also capable of understanding the meanings between those lines, and wielding authority required to fulfil this entrusted responsibility. With passage of time, since the establishment of their role, their strength shrank in numbers, leaving a few who are now buried under the heavy load of pending work, piles of papers, and pages of books. These heaps of papers of all sorts — white, green and those yellowed with time—have consumed much of their time, energy, strength and curtailing their “will” to go on the other side of their bench, to the corner were all those seeking their service stand for them, hoping to be understood for their circumstances which had lead their paths to them. Unfortunately, their vision these days is being obstructed by many filters pushing aside the most useful and special filter:compassion, which is essential to understand the contention under the light of law. While the man stood in the corner, unknown of the complexities of the system into which he was summoned, uncertain of when he would be allowed to return to his perpetual cycles of work, food, and sleep. He still clings with desperate hope to be free from chasing all those papers in which his whole life is stuck for eternity.

Konyala is a law student at the Postgraduate College of Law, Osmania University, Hyderabad. Konyala’s aspiration is to delve into the profession of advocacy, with a keen interest in human rights law