Chapter 18

next part - London Bridge

Suddenly while pacing the hotel room Kajus eye catches something. She goes to the coffee table and picks up the newspaper. It read "Amnesty International cries Foul at the way foreign nationals were being detained without charges. Blatant breach of International laws, Inhuman treatment of detainees and Human Rights abuse being the main points." Kajus brains started ticking – Amnesty International. She had heard about them. They were very active in the human rights thing.

Payal looked at her," Kaajjal…what…" Kaajjal opened her suitcase and said," I am going now. Payal, promise me you will stay here no matter what. Keep the mobile on, in case there are any calls. And no leaving the hotel alone, and please don't open the door to anyone." Payal was stunned," But Kaajjal – where are you off to" – as Kaju ran into the bathroom to change. Kaju was running out even as Payal puzzled over her sudden rush.

Kaju took a taxi to the main office of Amnesty International. She went past the Buckingham Palace and scarcely noticed the grandeur, biting her lip all the time. It was a lovely, Victorian building with 19th century architecture. She read the wooden signboard where it was written in gold – AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL – London office. She rangthe bell, and someone asked on the intercom – yes please. Kaju took a deep breathe, "Er – Can I speak to someone. It is about the headlines in the papers."

Her name was Caroline Buckett. She was the general secretary, poised and came across as very warm. But she couldn't help Kaju. Kaju was shocked," But M'am, if you cant help – who can." Caroline who was in her mid forties admired the younger girls determination. She offered her a cup of tea. Kaju wanted to decline, but decided she could at least prolong the meeting and try and persuade this lady, who seemed at least willing to hear her out. Caroline said to her," Among many other things, The UK government had amended a 1000 year old law to fit its new terrorist legislation and we are fighting that legally. Habeas corpus – which means right to a writ petition, in case some one is detained then the detainee used to have an automatic right under human rights for a proper counsel. The 3 detainees including your husband have been booked under section 44 which means Habeas corpus is waived off, as there is a deemed threat to national security. I hope all this is making sense, Kajal (pronounced it as cawjal). No one can help you legally it might take years." Kaju was pale. No – her mind screamed. This was not true. She wont accept it. She will not accept it. But none of her turmoil showed outwardly except her eyes. She took a deep breathe, finished her tea and stood up. Her knees were shaking, but she willed herself to stand tall. Offering her hand to Caroline who shook it, her eyes a touch moist," Thank you M'am for sparing some of your precious time. Is there no heart left in this world I wonder, are people so blind in fear and hatred…" Kaju said almost to herself. Caroline gave her a hug impulsively," Your love will find a way – Kajal, I am certain".

London eye looked beautiful this time of the day. Kaju sat by the Thames, a forlon figure watching the waves, and the boats go past. On the other side of the river were all the famous buildings which house some of the powerful offices in the world – MI5, The Parliament House. Big Ben was there too. She slowly started to walk and suddenly paused as a man dressed like a clown was doing some tricks to impress the passer-bys. A faint smile lit her lips. She went over and dropped a coin in his case. He looked at her and tilted his head," he' lassi – wha's up' ere…so..sad.." , Kaju brushed her tears, shaking her head slightly. He smiled broadly "Hey – let me cheer you up" And began playing the Harmonica singing –

(a nice song)

It lifted her spirits, just a bit. As he was packing she asked, him if he did this everyday. He smiled, his tone wry," H'ya lady- its called busking. Yep, my profession as they say. You need a license for that. All places except that area. Folks say, police will come and arrest ya if you and sing within the mile radius." He pointed a finger at the Parliament house. Kaju followed his hand, and went still. She took a deep breathe – get arrested.

Guy Fawkes – that was the name of the old timer who had been arrested record number of times for his protest against the war on terror. They had banned everyone and anyone from entering and protesting at the war memorial area. But he was there, like an ancient warrior. Badges of anti-war slogans were plastered all over his craggy frame. He was in old, battered army fatigues. He looked at her curiously," You will get arrested and thrown into the brink, lassi. Move before the Gestapo catc' ya." Kaju's face had a familiar resolved plastered on it. Her smile was peaceful, the glint in her eyes pronounced. She wore white, and carried a white Placard with large bold letters on it in red and a heart with a cupid on it and some drops of red to symbolise blood, "War on Love. My husband is innocent. Please release him".

The man shook his head, thinking she was crazy and went back to his ragged tagged tent, and posters. A group of school kids stoppd looking at the pacard. One of the boys said" Hey – whats this all about" Kaju smiled and said," about love- it is about love." The kids thought it was fun and joined in standing next to her. She handed out similar placards and gave out little flyers she had made by hand to surprised passerbys. It said the same thing – Dev, my husband he is innocent". Few more people joined her, but soon the police arrived waiting sirens and patrol cars. They didn't waste time in reading out her rights.

The senior officer looked at her perplexed," Mrs. Singh – this is illegal. Don't you realise, you have been booked under section 44". She smiled calmly ," I know – sir, can I see my husband" He stared at her flabbergasted. Her eyes pleaded," I don't know where he is – I did this so that I could meet him. Please officer. Please take me to him".

He took a deep breathe, muttering to himself – I must be mad to listen to this kid. But what the heck. He called a number made enquiries, and told her "Croydon – in South London. But it is a special cell. You cant go there…unless…." He looked thoughtful. Then he smiled," I will be damned – alright, I will try and see. But you are in deep trouble. The sentence for this charge is 6 months or a 2000 pound fine". She nodded and waited as he made a couple of calls. She smiled, gratefully a few times. All she cared at the moment was to see Dev.
sammy