Flashback....

The turning point at Hazra crossing, Lalu Alam was about to hit Mamata on her head (August 16,1990) .

It would have been just another shutdown lost in the annals of the bandh-happy city. But the events that unfolded on that day two decades ago not only metamorphosed a firebrand young woman into a leader, it was to significantly shape the state’s future as well. The day was August 16, 1990. Congress had called a bandh in protest against bus fare hike. There were sporadic clashes and two Congress activists were killed. For photojournalist Partho Sengupta, news of violence meant there was an opportunity to get a few good shots and he headed for Hazra on his motorcycle, the Nikon FM2 strung across his shoulder. Anil Kumar Mukherjee, then a 66-year-old Congress worker, was at his home. “Some younger activists wanted me to accompany them in enforcing the bandh. It was around 7.30am that I set off with them towards Mamata Banerjee’s house,” he recounted. The 35-year-old firebrand Youth Congress leader had acquired quite a name by then for her passionate hatred against CPM. “The disillusioned youths in the party saw in her a determination that was missing among senior leaders. She had good organizational skills. But she was yet to turn into a big leader. She was still very immature,” said Mukherjee. By the time Mukherjee reached Mamata’s house, Borough-IX chairman Dilip Mazumdar had arrived at Harish Chatterjee Street. Mamata joined them and the 80-strong group began doing the rounds, going first towards Lansdowne, then towards Rashbehari, Ashutosh College and then towards Kalighat bridge. Partho Sengupta had also reached the area by that time, as did some other photographers. Sengupta followed the rally for a while on his bike, others hung around at the crossing. While doing the rounds, Anil Mukherjee and Dilip Mazumdar spotted some men with red flags taking position on Hazra Road. They also noticed a CPM rally, approaching Hazra from Bhowanipore. At the opposite end, some women were raising anti-bandh slogans. Mukherjee felt there could be trouble. “CPM partymen had surrounded the intersection from all sides. I asked Mamata not to venture towards Hazra. But she did not pay any heed,” he said. Partho Sengupta spotted around 15 men near the Radha-Krishna temple on Hazra Road carrying red flags that didn’t have any party symbol. With them there appeared to be some policemen, wearing helmets and wielding lathis. He parked his bike next to the temple, crossed over to the opposite side and took position next to the Bata store. As soon as the two rallies reached Hazra crossing, a commotion broke out. In the melee, he heard some women shouting: ‘Oke mere de! (Finish her off !)’. The CPM rally had split Mamata’s rally in two. They were in the middle, with the Congress protesters on both sides. Mamata was towards the flank Sengupta was standing. Helmeted men rushed towards that direction with their batons raised. “I thought they were policemen trying to control the clash. And then, I noticed someone with a baton raised, aiming straight at Mamata. He had an improvised revolver tucked in his hip. That is when I realized this wasn’t a policeman, but a goon. I aimed the camera and began to shoot,” recalled Sengupta. Dazed for moments after being caught in the chaos, Anil Mukherjee soon saw that most partymen had fled. He also realized that Mamata, who had incurred the wrath of local CPM leaders, including Badsha Alam, was in grave danger. He had spotted Badsha’s brother Lalu wearing a helmet and charging at Congress supporters with a baton. “I rushed towards Mamata. Dilip Mazumdar also rushed in. Then the batons began raining on me. I slumped onto the ground,” Mukherjee recalled. The moment before the first baton struck him is frozen in Sengupta’s first frame. The second frame showed Lalu towering over Mamata, the lathi raised vertically in the air. Even as he clicked, he saw the chilling scene of the lathi coming down with force on Mamata through the camera’s view finder. Before he could take the next shot, a couple of ruffians tried to snatch the camera. “I didn’t get to see what happened to Mamata because there were men all around me, raining blows and trying to snatch the camera. Fortunately, I used to practise wrestling in my youth. I managed to shove one of them aside with my leg and threw myself to the ground to protect the camera. From that prostrate position, I saw Mamata sitting on the ground, her sari soaked in blood. I took another shot and then a lathi landed on my wrist, breaking the view-finder,” Sengupta recalled. Though he was wearing his motorcycle helmet, the blow from lathis shattered it. Lying helpless on the ground, he suffered the blows while rewinding the film, opening the back cover, extracting the roll and slipping it into his pocket. Sengupta was barely conscious when a sergeant arrived and drove the goons away. By the time police cleared the area, Mamata had been bundled into a car and rushed to SSKM Hospital. “The lathi had nearly dealt a killer blow,” said Subrata Mukherjee. Mamata was in hospital for a month after that. Her skull had been fractured. The events of August 16 metamorphosed Mamata’s life. She emerged much more wise and mature. “She became an icon of resistance to CPM’s strongarm tactics,” said Subrata.