Sushil Sen, the teenager who sparked a plot to kill a magistrate

The year was 1905. The first of Bengal’s two partitions was underway, courtesy Viceroy Lord Curzon. Typically impervious to popular opinions and aspirations, the British-Indian administration was driving the divide home with a heavy hand. However, this controversial first Partition of Bengal was to have widespread political impact, stimulating radical nationalist sentiments among the educated Bengali middle-class, and giving birth to what became known as ‘Agni Yug’, Bengal’s Era of Fire, when countless young people took to armed revolution as a means of countering the might of the empire. Young people like the barely 15-year-old Sushil Sen.

Stung by the sudden rise in attacks on senior government officials and institutions, the British resorted to brutal repression and torture of not only armed rebels, but anyone who dared criticise the government’s policies. And so it was that in 1907, a case was initiated against the publication Bande Mataram, and as the case progressed, several interested citizens, most of them young men, crowded the Chief Presidency Magistrate’s Court (present day Lalbazar premises) to follow the trial. Among them was the teenage Sushil, already passionately devoted to the cause of India’s freedom.

In 1915, on an armed mission in Nadia, he became part of a team of six youths cornered by a large, heavily armed police force. Shot in both legs, Sushil was immobilised, but as his comrades helplessly wondered how to move him, he solved the problem by explaining the futility of all of them dying together. Instead, he instructed them to kill him so that the British would not have that privilege, and make their escape

In his Bengali book ‘Achena Lalbazar’ (available in English as ‘India Cried that Night’), senior IPS officer Supratim Sarkar recounts how, confronted with the twin problem of overflowing crowds and patriotic slogans, the British-Indian administration regularly launched savage lathi charges in front of the courthouse, and how the picture changed on August 26, 1907. The police, commanded by Inspector E.B. Huey had begun the usual lathi charge, but that day, the slightly built Sushil had decided to give as good as he got. Rushing at Huey, he managed to land quite a few blows on the policeman before being overpowered. 

Dragged off to magistrate D.H. Kingsford’s court, Sushil was sentenced to 15 strokes of the cane in accordance with the Whipping Act, 1864. As a silent, outraged crowd watched, the boy took a vicious beating, crying out ‘Bande Mataram!’ with every lash of the cane. The impact of this seemingly isolated incident was to prove far-reaching. 

Born in 1892 in Sylhet (then part of Assam, later awarded to Bangladesh), Sushil was the son of a head clerk in the IG (Prisons) office in Shillong. Having caught the nationalist bug early on, he joined Gnyanendranath Gupta’s secret revolutionary society at the age of 13 and trained in boxing, gymnastics and other martial arts to prepare for the war against British imperialism.

His cruel public caning in 1907 brought him to the attention of other secret societies of the day, and the plot to assassinate Kingsford was a direct result of that ordeal. How the plot fared is another story, but there is one memorable aspect that many are unaware of - the two young men originally scheduled to execute the plot were Sushil himself, and Prafulla Chaki. At the last moment, news reached Sushil of his father’s terminal illness, whereupon he was persuaded to withdraw from the mission, his place taken by another young lad called Khudiram Bose. The rest is the proverbial history.

A brilliant student all his life, Sushil graduated with Honours in Chemistry and a gold medal from Presidency College. By now, he had met the legendary Bagha Jatin, and rejecting every chance of a bright future, joined Anushilan Samiti, one of the most prominent revolutionary societies of the time. Having spent 21 months in jail for the Alipore Bomb Case despite lack of any evidence against him, Sushil was eventually freed, but was not destined for a long life. 

His cruel public caning in 1907 brought him to the attention of other secret societies of the day, and the plot to assassinate Kingsford was a direct result of that ordeal. How the plot fared is another story, but there is one memorable aspect that many are unaware of - the two young men originally scheduled to execute the plot were Sushil himself, and Prafulla Chaki.

In 1915, on an armed mission in Nadia, he became part of a team of six youths cornered by a large, heavily armed police force. Shot in both legs, Sushil was immobilised, but as his comrades helplessly wondered how to move him, he solved the problem by explaining the futility of all of them dying together. Instead, he instructed them to kill him so that the British would not have that privilege, and make their escape. Shocked, they flatly refused at first, but were forcefully and quickly convinced by Sushil. So great was his conviction that he told his friends to dispose of his remains so that the hated British would not even have possession of his body. Accordingly, his comrades shot him, and in a final, gruesome tribute, reportedly chopped up his body and buried the pieces.

Thus ended the life of one of Bengal’s brightest, the boy whose public whipping had prompted Kaliprasanna Kabyabisharad to write: 

‘If (my) life ends, let it be done
If they cane me, will I forget the “mother”?
Am I such a mother’s son?’

Inputs: India Cried That Night by Supratim Sarkar (Rupa & Co. Ltd)