Jyotsna Mohan's Pratap Chronicles A Legacy Of Courageous Journalism

The Urdu newspaper Pratap - and its Hindi counterpart Vir Pratap - had a long and eventful history. Launched by Mahashay Krishan on 30 March 1919 and ably carried on by his son Virendra and later his grandson Chander, it was a torchbearer against the British Raj that covered all the major events during India's struggle for independence and after, until it wound up in 2017.

This book chronicles the exciting lives of the newspapers, their founder and editors, as well as landmark events of Indian history, from Independence to the Emergency and Operation Blue Star. Pratap was known for its bold stance, which lead to it being shut down for a year by the British administration within twelve days of its launch, the arrest of its founder and editors-in-chief multiple times, and even a parcel bomb being delivered to its office in 1983.

Here's an excerpt from Pratap: A Defiant Newspaper

So, we thought that the hanging would be on the morning of 24 [March]. But on 23 March, at about 2 p.m., the prison barber came running to us with tears in his eyes, and in a quivering voice said, ‘Sab kuch khatam ho gaya [Everything is over]. The Sardar is saying that they would probably be hanged today itself. He has conveyed Vande Mataram to the two of you.’ On hearing Barkat’s words Virendra and Ehsan Ilahi were distraught. They had accepted the hanging with drooping shoulders, but were not willing to see the intrepid revolutionaries die any sooner than they had to.

Thoughts raced through their minds questioning the insidious move by the British to bring forward the execution by a day. With passions running high in the city, the British had quietly advanced the hangings by twelve hours. Bringing his emotions under control, Virendra requested Barkat to go back to Bhagat Singh and ask him for a keepsake that the two young men could treasure as a remembrance. Half an hour later, the barber returned – in his hands were a black fountain pen and a comb. ‘On the comb, Bhagat Singh had carved his name with a blunt instrument. Ehsan Ilahi kept the pen and I, the comb.

Time was moving and, yet, it felt like it had stood still. It was late afternoon and police officers were camping outside the gates of the Lahore Central Jail. Every evening at 7 p.m., chief warder Chattar Singh would lock us up, after securing all other prisoners. That day, he came at 4 p.m. When we asked him why he had come three hours early, he became emotional and could not speak. After several minutes, he composed himself and said the end had come; the three would be hanged that evening at 7 p.m., there was nothing that could be done to save them now. 

The warder left after locking the prisoners in, ‘we sat on our cots, totally silent’. Virendra and Ehsan Ilahi were accompanied by another undertrial, who was tasked to help them. They told him not to cook anything that day. Anguished, the men could only wait. The silence – theirs and of the other inmates – swept through every corner of the sprawling Lahore Central Jail. The three who were to be hanged were kept in ward number 14. There was a furlong between that ward and where we were. Thus, we could not gather immediately what was happening but lodged next to number 14 were [the] accused in the second Lahore Conspiracy Case and they had a clearer picture. 

Just before 7 p.m., Bhagat Singh, Shivaram Rajguru and Sukhdev Thapar were brought out and taken towards the phansi ghar. As they walked, they loudly shouted, ‘Inquilab Zindabad!’ Hearing it, the other accused in the conspiracy case responded with equal gusto. Soon, the entire jail was reverberating with loud cries of ‘Inquilab Zindabad’. We too joined them. It spread even to the non-political prisoners, who started shouting the same slogan and it echoed across the jail. Then, there was deadly silence. That night, no one ate in the Central Jail of Lahore. And no one slept. 

All the prisoners were overcome with thoughts of the final moments of the three extraordinary men and desperately sought information from anyone who would have it. Only the chief warder Chattar Singh could tell us [about the hangings] as he was present at the spot. We waited for him to come and at 7 in the morning, he finally opened our locks. We had many questions to ask about how the three revolutionaries had approached death. Singh could not speak and then he burst out crying. With tears streaming down his face he said, ‘I am a government servant and I have seen many hangings, but I have never seen such bravery in facing the gallows before.’

The chief warder went on to tell Virendra and Ehsan Ilahi an incident that occurred shortly before the execution of Bhagat Singh After wearing the uniform for the hanging, when the revolutionary came out of his cell, Chattar Singh made a request. He said to him that as there were only a few minutes left of his life, he should remember Wahe Guru.

Hearing him, Bhagat Singh laughed saying, ‘Sardar-ji, throughout my life I have never remembered him. Looking at the atrocities against the poor and the downtrodden, I may even have reprimanded Him sometimes. Now, with death standing right in front of me, if I remember Him, He will say that this young man is both dishonest and a coward. But if I do not change my views about Him, He would say that this young man was both honest and brave.’ Saying this, Bhagat Singh started his walk towards the phansi ghar.

Extracted with permission from Jyotsna Mohan's Pratap: A Defiant Newspaper; published by HarperCollins India.