17 August,2023 07:00 AM IST | Mumbai | Jyoti Punwani
Hussain Bhanpurawala, his father Abdul Kader Bhanpurwala
"I'm not a hater," says Hussain Bhanpurawala, explaining why he's wary of calls from strangers that he's been flooded with since July 31, the day his father, Abdul Kader Bhanpurawala, was gunned down on a train by RPF jawan Chetan Singh. He has also questioned the government's silence on the issue, and fears the accused will get political support.
Hussain, however, refuses to see the incident through a religious lens. Three bearded Muslims were targeted by the jawan, but, Hussain points out, the first person to be shot was Singh's senior, a Hindu. "I don't think in those [religion] terms," he says repeatedly. "Some of the calls I got were from people who wanted me to act like a hater," he adds.
Pointing to his lawyer Umesh Rana (who's intervening on his behalf in court with advocate Vishnu Bhatt), Hussain reveals that they have been friends for the past 23 years. "My dad was like his dad; Umesh's family is my family. Since this happened, my house has been full of my Hindu friends."
Hussain has been working in Dubai since 2008, living alongside, "a hundred different communities; Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Indians. I see all communities as one."
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It is from this perspective of "oneness", says the 36-year-old, that he wants to ask the powers that be: "As a citizen, what support have you given me?"
After meeting the senior-most police officers in charge of the case, Hussain is "completely satisfied" with the investigation. "We had thought police will protect one of their own, but I'm confident that won't happen."
What's tormenting him is the deafening silence from the government. "No one has reached out to me, not from Delhi, not from Mumbai. Not a single call saying, we are there for you, come, meet us. Let's see what we can do." The local MLA, he says, came to his house, folded his hands and left.
Hussain links this silence with jawan's speech after the shooting, the video of which went viral. "See the names he has taken. These are not small names. Yogi and Modi, they are the face of India. And it is Modi's people who are in power in Maharashtra. I fear that he will get political support. But where does that leave me?"
It was this silence that made him take the unusual step of appointing his own lawyer. "How could I have not done so?" he asks. "When there's no support from the government, I have to protect myself. I have faith that the police will build a watertight case. But what happens once the case goes to trial?"
At that stage, says Hussain, he wants a special public prosecutor to be appointed.
"I have a few demands. Trial in a fast-track court, a special PP, maximum punishment for the culprit, and no bail. I don't want that criminal to step out of jail," says Hussain vehemently, banging his hand on the table.
Every time he goes to court, he comes back traumatised. While he is not allowed inside the courtroom, his lawyers have told him that Singh behaves like a "robot", a "newborn babe". Hussain refuses to buy the defence theory that Singh is mentally ill. "He rang up his wife after the shooting to tell her she would have to look after his children now.
So he knew what he had done. Had he been mentally ill, he would have shot everyone in sight, not select passengers."
What really disgusts him, he says, is the sight of journalists milling around the defence lawyers. "I can't bear to listen to their defence of him. He killed four people. It's no joke. All of us will be in pain our whole lives."
Hussain was especially close to his father who had also worked in Dubai and lived with him before returning to Mumbai for good in 2016. "We were more like friends. He would even call me âsaaley' affectionately. He was always teasing me, asking if I had become too big for my boots. I'll miss all that."
What rankles most is that his mother had spent 25 years of her married life alone in Mumbai, unable to join her husband because of her children's education. "This was their time together. He would accompany her everywhere; she would come and sit at his shop in the evenings."
Abdul Kader Bhanpurawala was a jovial man, who liked making people, even train attendants, laugh. He also loved helping people, rushing off even if a call came after midnight. The family basked in his good nature. Today, they feel insecure.
Since both Hussain and his brother work in Dubai, they've decided to take their mother back with them, instead of coming back to settle in their Nallasopara home, as originally planned. Hussain wonders if he can ever feel safe in India again. It's not just the fear of being shot by a public servant paid to protect him. It's the silence of the government that has alienated him. "I may live in Dubai, but India is my home. Today I feel alone in my own land."
2016
Year Abdul Kader returned to India from Dubai for good