Opinion Day discotheques in Patna

That year,Ali wanted to change many things about Patna. He wanted boys and girls to dance to the music he would mix on the decks in a restaurant with revolving neon lights,and a dance floor. He wanted Patna,reeling under the lack of security for women and men,to experiment with a day discotheque. Colleges shut around 4 pm; the discotheque would close at 4.30 pm,so girls and boys could come in and dance and go home before the sun went down.That was about a decade ago. Ali had spent a few months in Delhi,Mumbai,Chandigarh,and wore anti-fit jeans and cool sweatshirts and knew how to party. He had rehearsed his role,too. He would play the DJ with headphones plugged to his ears,a glass of beer on the side,and play his own funky brand of music.In those days,in the shadow of Lalu’s reign,with his goons roaming around,kidnapping women,raiding shops at will,we never partied at clubs. In the evenings,we would sit at home and drink tea or watch television. We all wanted a break from the monotony,from the oppressive fear that kept us indoors. We were young,we wanted everything everyone else in other cities had access to. We wanted a discotheque even if it meant dancing under cheap neon lights during the daylight hours.Ali even managed to convince a restaurant owner to let him use the space. He transported his equipment,huge speakers,a mixer and headphones,and we all sneaked out of political science class,changed into jeans,applied some cheap mascara and giggled at the prospect of going to a disco.Many students came. But the magic didn’t last. Towards the afternoon,Ali could sense trouble coming his way. The restaurant owner,he told me,was anxious. This was courting trouble. The discotheque shut. Patna wasn’t ready for such adventure. Lalu’s men were on the streets. They were indomitable,fearsome and lawless.Those were the times I grew up in in Patna,in the shadow of fear and kidnapping. If I didn’t reach home by 4 pm,my mother would start calling my friends’ homes.The news was scary,too. In July 1999,Shilpi Jain,my senior in Patna Women’s College,was raped and murdered. They later dismissed it as a suicide. But politicians were involved. One young politician refused to get his DNA tested. That morning I had seen her at the coaching institute I attended to crack the MBA examinations. She was young,beautiful and had been crowned as Miss St Joseph’s Convent at their farewell. The next day,the papers were full of tales of her grim,ruthless murder. Her naked body had been dumped on some highway along with that of Gautam Singh,her boyfriend. In 2003,the CBI closed the case.But it had done its damage to our lives. We weren’t allowed to have boyfriends,go out with friends,wear jeans with short tops. It is better to be invisible in the strange times that we live in,my mother would say.Fifteen of my growing-up years were filled with the fear of standing out. They used to call it “jungle raj”. It was anarchy everywhere. Lalu engaged us all with his wit and we laughed. But we also knew we were missing out on so much. There was too much corruption. Roads were bumpy,shops downed their shutters by 8 pm,and my father gave up on driving to Patliputra Colony on the other side of the town for card parties because one night he was stopped by a bunch of men demanding ransom.Those who could get out chose to pack up and leave. A friend who had a Mahindra car franchise relocated to Pune after men came and picked up cars from the showrooms,saying it was Lalu’s daughter’s wedding and they needed them. Caste barriers were enforced. We felt isolated. My family dropped the “Sinha” tag. I moved out in 2001. My mother would give me a list of instructions before I left Delhi or Mumbai for Patna,citing examples. We never took the Rajdhani train. It was packed with party-people,who clanked glasses,got drunk and created mayhem. On August 3,2001,Pandora’s Box,a discotheque,opened its doors. This was yet another attempt to defy the system. It wasn’t Ali this time but a young graduate named Aayush Sahay. This too was a day discotheque. This too shut down. A local journalist told me gunshots were heard inside the discotheque and it closed down a few months after it dared to change the status quo.When I went home in 2008,something had changed. Maybe just a little,but it felt a lot easier just going to the Patna Market on my own. Then the floating restaurant opened and I went there with my mother. I saw many young girls and boys having a good time in the evenings. A few malls had opened. A lot more restaurants,too. They looked fresh,full of life unlike the ones that had their waiters wait it out for hours before people walked in. The fear was gone.

Someone asked me if I feel empowered with this spectacular Nitish win. I don’t know if I feel empowered but I definitely feel safe and at ease now. Maybe Ali should come back and play his music. Maybe he has moved on to a banking career,or maybe something else,like all of us who just left when our moment came. Maybe now is the time to return and reclaim our lost years in our home state.

chinki.sinha@expressindia.com