Parth M.N.

Priti David

Editor

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For
five days in mid-June of 2023, Ajim Sheikh sat on a fast in front of the Divisional
Commissioner’s office in Aurangabad. 

<a></a>Despite the scorching heat, the 26-year-old man consumed nothing
except water to remain hydrated. At the end of the fast, he was weak, drained
and dizzy, struggling to even walk a straight line. 

His
demand? He just wanted to file a police complaint. But the local police station
near his village in the neighbouring
district of Jalna – about 80 kilometres from Aurangabad – wouldn’t write it up.

On
May 19, 2023, members of the local Sonawane family – belonging
to the Maratha community – barged into Ajim’s home at 11 at night
and beat up his family with sticks and stones. His brother and parents
sustained injuries. “My old mother had to be admitted to the hospital.
It was a brutal assault,” he told PARI. “They even
stole the jewellery and cash worth over Rs. 1.5 lakh from the house.” 

When this
reporter contacted Nitin Sonawane, who Ajim alleges was part of the mob, he
refused to comment on the issue saying, “I don&#39;t know anything about the
incident.” 

Ajim’s
house is located on his eight-acre farmland, about two kilometres from the settlement in their village of Palaskheda Murtad,
in Bhokardan taluka in central Maharashtra. 

“It
is secluded and quiet at night,” he says. “We couldn’t even call for help.”

The
assault, Ajim suspects, stemmed from a business rivalry. The two families are
the only ones in their village that operate a JCB machine. “There is a [Jui]
dam nearby,” says Ajim. “Farmers in the village need the silt from the
catchment area to spread on their land for better harvest. Our business is to
excavate the silt for farmers.”

Both
families charge Rs. 80 an hour to farmers. “But when I lowered my rate to 70
rupees, I started getting more business,” says Ajim. “I was threatened after
that, and when I didn’t bring my rate back up, they attacked my house. They
even vandalised the
JCB machine parked out in front.”

The
next morning, Ajim went to the police station of Bhokardan, the taluka in which his village falls.
However, the police refused to file a First Information Report (FIR). Instead,
“the police threatened me,” he recalls. “They said I would get in trouble for
complaining against that family. They are politically connected.”

According
to Ajim, when he insisted his complaint be officially recorded, the police warned him
saying the other family would file several counter complaints against him and
have him evicted from the village. 

“Hi kasli law and order [How is this law and order]?” he asks. “It was a planned
attack, where 25-30 people landed up in my house and wreaked havoc. It was traumatising and scary.”

For
Ajim, it was a matter of principle. A matter of his self-respect. The idea that the Maratha family would get away
with it didn’t sit well and so, “I didn’t back down.
I pursued my complaint with the police station until they agreed to file a
FIR.” 

When the police finally relented, they told Ajim the FIR
would not carry all the details; it would be diluted. “The police refused to
include the bit where they stole cash and jewellery from us,” he says. “That was unacceptable to me.”

So, he went to
the gram panchayat and presented his case in front of the important members of
the village. Ajim’s family had lived in the village for generations. He was
pretty confident about the support from the rest of the village. “I have had
warm relationships with people in the village,” he says. “I was sure the people
would support me.”

Ajim
printed out a statement with all the details and appealed to the village to
sign it in solidarity. He wanted to escalate the matter and present it to the Divisional Commissioner
(DC) of Aurangabad who oversees all of Marathwada region. 

Only 20
people signed the letter – all Muslims. “Some people privately told me they are with me but were afraid to do
it openly.”

And it was at
that moment, when suddenly the fault lines in the village cracked open. “I hadn’t realised my village was so divided along communal lines,” says Ajim.
Many Hindus didn’t want to speak on record,
and those that did, dismissed any religious
angle for the lack of support as well as any tension. 

Off the record, Hindu farmers said they couldn’t take a
stand out of fear of retribution. The situation is volatile, they said, and
they didn’t want to be caught in the middle of
anything. 

Bhagwan
Sonawane, 65, the sarpanch of the village for 20 years now, says one could feel
the communal tension at the time, but things have calmed down. “Of course, when
two families belonging to two religions get into a fight like that, it will
have an impact on the entire village,” he says.

“Ajim
wasn’t at fault in this instance. But people in the village preferred to mind
their own business and not get involved in it,” said Sonawane, a Maratha himself. The last
time Hindu-Muslim disharmony had become an issue in our village was 15 years
ago. “In recent times, it was peaceful until this happened,” he adds.

The village of Palaskheda Murtad is perhaps symbolic of the rest of the
district of Jalna, and even the state of Maharashtra, now embroiled in communal
disharmony.

On
March 26, 2023, Saiyyad Zakir Khajamiya, a religious scholar, was quietly
reading the Quran at a mosque in his village of Anwa in Jalna district. “At the time, three
unknown men barged into the mosque and asked me to chant Jai Shri Ram,” the 26-year-old
told the police. “When I refused to do so, they
kicked me in the chest, beat me up, and even pulled my beard.”

According
to his testimony, the men, their faces covered with black masks, beat him until
he was unconscious and shaved his beard. He is currently being treated at a
hospital in Aurangabad, about 100 km away.

His experience is
not unusual. Abdul Sattar, head of a neighbouring
village, says the situation has been extremely tense. “The police have done
nothing to reassure the Muslim community,” he says. “It doesn’t get reported as
much but such instances have become part of our daily lives.”

On
June 19, 2023, Jalna police charged an 18-year old Muslim boy, and a son of
small farmers, Taufiq Bagwan, with “deliberate and malicious
intention of outraging the religious feelings” after he uploaded a picture of
Aurangzeb – a 17th century Mughal king.

His elder brother, Shafiq, 26, says the
right-wing groups in his village of Hasnabad took screenshots of Taufiq’s story
and went to the police station. “The police confiscated Taufiq’s phone to
investigate who else had uploaded the photograph,” says Shafiq. “My brother is
just 18. He is shaken and disturbed.”

Hasnabad is in the same taluka of Bhokardan, where Ajim’s
village is located. The cooperation and proactiveness of the police in filing a
FIR against a social media post stands in stark contrast to the physical
assault Ajim had to endure.

After the police told Ajim it would file
a diluted FIR, he presented the letter with signatures of 20 other Muslim
villagers and went to the DC in Aurangabad. Some of the other Muslim farmers
from the village also joined Ajim in his fast. “It is like we don’t matter,” he
says. “We have become invisible to the authorities.”

Five days later, the DC met with Ajim and
the other protestors, and assured action. He told them to approach the superintendent of police in Jalna.

After
the protest in Aurangabad, Ajim met with the Superintendent of Police (SP) in
Jalna town and presented the same letter that detailed the assault. The SP
called the Bhokardan police station, and told the police to take cognizance of
the matter. 

Finally,
on July 14, Bhokardan police filed a complaint – almost two months after the
incident; it named 19 people in the FIR, including Nitin. The offences include unlawful assembly, rioting, causing hurt by
dangerous weapons, causing damage for Rs. 50 or above, and criminal
intimidation. 

However,
the bit about stealing jewellery and cash still didn’t make it to the FIR.

“Ideally,
there should be action against the police officers for not filing my complaint
properly,” says Ajim. “But that is too much to expect. Had it been a Muslim
accused of such a crime, it would have been a completely different
story.” 

Repeated
calls and attempts by this reporter to speak to the police inspector at
Bhokardan police station went unanswered.

In Jalna: ‘Muslims don’t count’

جالنہ: ’ہم مسلمانوں کی کوئی اہمیت ہی نہیں ہے‘

’இஸ்லாமியர்கள் பொருட்படுத்தப்படுவதில்லை’

ਜਾਲਨਾ: ‘ਪ੍ਰਸ਼ਾਸਨ ਨੂੰ ਸ਼ਾਇਦ ਅਸੀਂ ਦਿੱਸਣੋ ਹਟ ਗਏ ਹਾਂ’

ଜଲନାରେ : ‘ମୁସଲମାନଙ୍କର କୌଣସି ଗୁରୁତ୍ୱ ନାହିଁ’

ജൽനയിൽ ‘മുസ്ലിങ്ങളെ കണക്കിൽ‌പ്പെടുത്തിയിട്ടില്ല’

ಜಲ್ನಾ: 'ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಮುಸ್ಲಿಮರು ಲೆಕ್ಕಕ್ಕಿಲ್ಲ'

जालना: ‘हम मुसलमानों की कोई अहमियत ही नहीं है’

જાલનામાં: 'અમને મુસલમાનોને તો કોઈ ગણતું જ નથી'

'हम मुसलमान मन के कऊनो गिनती नई ये'

जालना: ‘हमनी मुसलमानन के कवनो गिनती नइखे’

জালনা: ‘মুসলিমদের কেউ মানুষ বলেই মনে করে না’

জালনাঃ ‘মুছলমানক য’ত মানুহ বুলিয়েই গণ্য কৰা নহয়!’

जालन्यामध्ये ‘मुसलमान कुणाच्याच गणतीत नाहीत’

Jalna

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In Jalna: ‘Muslims don’t count’

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