& çâÌæÚUæð´ ·¤è ¥ôÚU Îð¹Ùæ ÁæÚUè ÚU¹ð´ ¥ÍæüÌ ¥ÂÙð ÜÿØ ÂÚU ŠØæÙ ÚU¹ð´Ð ãæÚU Ù ×æÙð´, €UØô´ç·¤ ·¤æ× ·¤ÚUÙð âð ¥æÂ·¤ô ©gðàØ ·¤è Âýæç# ãôÌè ãñ ¥õÚU ÁèßÙ ·¤æ ¹æÜèÂÙ ÎêÚU ãôÌæ ãñÐ ÖÜð ãè ÁèßÙ ×ð´ ç·¤ÌÙè Öè ·¤çÆÙæ§ü €UØô´ Ù ¥æ°, çÁ™ææâæ ¥õÚU ©ˆâæã ÕÙæ° ÚU¹ð´Ð ŠØæÙ ÚU¹ð´, ÜÿØ ã×ðàææ ¥æÂ·Ô¤ Âæâ ãôÌð ãñ´ çÁ‹ãð´ ÂæÙð ·Ô¤ çÜ° ÂýØæâ ¥æÂ ·¤Öè Öè àæéM¤ ·¤ÚU â·¤Ìð ãñ´Ð

Crimes by Law Enforcers

State's costly silence

Tamanna Khan and Wasim Bin Habib
Tired from searching for the family calf, Limon was sitting on the railing of a culvert. Little did the boy know his sitting there would be just the beginning of his lifelong suffering.
Only moments later, a very powerful state apparatus pounced on the teen, maiming him and snatching away his youthful and most formative years of his life for nofault of his own.
But now that his three-year ordeal of running from courtroom to courtroom has ended with the dropping of the two false cases against him, is he feeling any better? "No," is Limon's answer.
He said justice would only be served when the state punished those who not only shot him but did everything in their power to bully him for three years.
FROM PAGE I
On March 23, 2011, a Rab team shot Limon, then 16, in the left leg at Shaturia village in Jhalakathi, taking him for a notorious criminal it was looking for. Limon was a candidate of Higher Secondary Certificate examination at the time.
The elite force then picked him up and sent him to a hospital. The same day, Rab filed two cases against him -one for possessing firearms and another for obstructing law enforcers. As evidence against the poor but meritorious boy, it produced a worn-out revolver and a used bullet cap.
Four days after the shooting, doctors had to amputate Limon's leg above the knee. He now walks on an artificial leg.
Yesterday, recalling the horrors and the pain of those days at various hospital prison cells, he told The Daily Star, "I was not allowed to see even the light of the day during the three months I spent at Nitor's [Pangu Hospital in the capital! prison cell.
"They did not even entertain my requests for some home-cooked food from my mother."
Even with the amputated leg he had to appear before the Jhalakathi court every month, he said, adding how his mother and Ain o Salish Kendra staff, doctors and nurses helped him with
his movement.
“I felt like dying every day," he said. "But I no longer feel that way when 1 think that human rights advocates, the media and ordinary people are by my side."
It is the state's silence and the love of common men that led this young boy to change his career aspiration. Once he wanted to be a banker, but today he wants to serve the society by becoming a barrister.
His treatment cost was borne by the ordinary people. Even beggars of his area gave money, although the High Court in May 2011 directed the government to arrange for his treatment.
But till date, Limon did not receive a penny from the government.
"It hurts the most when I think that the state which has maimed me never took the responsibility for my situation. It never stood by me. “
He urged that the government at least take responsibility of his education.
He is optimistic that just as truth has prevailed over lie about his being a criminal, those who maimed him would one day be brought to justice.
"I believe just like the fateful afternoon when I lost my leg, another afternoon would come when something good will happen."