On 28 September 2002, a white Toyota Land Cruiser belonging to the Bollywood actor Salman Khan, crashed in to the American Express Bakery in Bandra, a Mumbai suburb, and swerved onto the pavement, killing one person and injuring four others. What followed was a trial that dragged on for nearly thirteen years, replete with endless delays and dramatic twists until yesterday, when a Mumbai Sessions court finally declared Salman Khan guilty of culpable homicide.
The delivery of the verdict in this case, on what had been proclaimed as “judgement day” across the media, was an expectedly public affair. News channels examined Khan’s horoscope to determine why he had such frequent trysts with trouble. OB vans were parked outside the courtroom by 11 pm on Tuesday night and enterprising journalists rushed to court at around 7.30 am for a judgment that was due at 11.15 am on Wednesday.
This Mumbai case attracted almost as much attention as the Shakti Mills gang rape case trial in March 2014 and the trial of Mohammed Ajmal Kasab—one of the terrorists involved in the 26/11 terror arracks—in May 2010. In both these cases, however, it was largely clear that the accused would be convicted; the only question, if any, was whether the death penalty would be awarded. In Salman's case, on the other hand, there was no such certainty, and that made the verdict all the more intriguing.
By around 10 am on Wednesday, expectations had built up. As television journalists attending the judgment were in the midst of paraphrasing the same information for their anchors several times over, Reshma Shetty—the managing director and founder of Matrix India Entertainment and Salman Khan’s manager—arrived at the court, resulting in a hustle to collect video footage of the first entrant. Soon, the place was abuzz with multiple updates of Salman Khan and his family being en route as well. The stage was set.
By 11 am, courtroom no. 52, which would eventually house at least a hundred people, was occupied by journalists, lawyers, policemen, court staff and family members of the actor, which included his two sisters, Arpita and Alvira; brothers, Arbaaz and Sohail; brother-in-law Atul Agnihotri; a former MLA and friend Baba Siddiqui; and his bodyguard, Shera. Within an hour, several lawyers and journalists were uncomfortably perched on the dock meant for criminals at the back end of the court due to lack of space.
Finally at 11.10 am, Sessions Judge DW Deshpande came to the dais from his chamber and called Salman to the witness box. Once Salman, who was seen for the first time during this exchange, reached the witness box, the mild mannered judge, said to him in a low voice, “The court has come to the conclusion that you were driving the vehicle under the influence of alcohol that led to the death of a person. Also, you were not holding a valid license. All charges are proved.” The actor had been booked on charge of culpable homicide not amounting to murder, rash and negligent driving and causing grievous hurt, in addition to charges under the sections of the Bombay Prohibition Act, 1949, and the Motor Vehicle Act, 1988.
There was a buzz in the courtroom as several people who had not been able to hear the judge, asked one another what the verdict was. Journalists furiously typed on their keypads while simultaneously adjusting their postures in an effort to increase the signal on their mobile devices.
Although there was palpable excitement within the courtroom, Salman’s face did not betray any emotion. He murmured his response in a tone that was barely audible, when the judge with what I had now come to realise was his characteristic blink of the eye and a twitch of the face, asked him if he had something to say.
Deshpande went on, “Since the case is made out. Lets come to the sentencing part as a the maximum sentence in your case is ten years.” Right on cue, Salman’s lawyer, Shrikant Shivade—who was Shiney Ahuja’s lawyer in the rape case that was filed against the actor by his maid, and who also represented Suraj Pancholi, actor Aditya Pancholi’s son, when he was charged with abetment to the actor Jiah Khan’s suicide—began his arguments, asking for lenient punishment and a term of less than three years.
Shivade argued that it was the first case in the history of Indian criminal law in which a person had been convicted on the charge of culpable homicide not amounting to murder for the death of one person as against the higher casualty count in other cases in which this section was applied. He went on to cite the case of Alistair Pereira, a businessman from a family of realtors, who had been accused in a similar hit-and-run case in 2006 for running over fifteen labourers and killing seven, while he was driving under the influence. Pereira was sentenced to three years imprisonment on the charge of culpable homicide not amounting to murder. “The case of my client is not even ten percent of Pereira’s case,” Shivade argued.
The only time at which Salman appeared to communicate with his lawyer, was when the actor shook his head in disapproval at Shivade’s argument that his client had health problems and the stress of being in jail would worsen the situation.
Shivade added that Salman had started Being Human, a non-profit organisation that the lawyer claimed had, for the past three years, been using its funds to the tune of Rs 42 crore for charity, which included the medical treatment of close to six hundred children.
Pradeep Gharat, the prosecution lawyer who had taken over the case mid proceeding in September 2014 from J Kenjalkar, refuted Shivade’s offer to pay more money to the victims. “It is not about money. It is about sending a message that will act as deterrence in the society against doing such a thing. He has a huge fan following and is a celebrity.”
At this point, the judge allowed himself a small smile as he continued hearing the arguments, resting his head on his right thumb and index finger.
By around 12.30 pm, when the arguments regarding the quantum of punishment had been completed, the judge retired to his chamber after announcing that the judgment would be delivered at 1.10pm. At this juncture, Salman, whom I had, on previous occasions, spotted dozing off for a few moments in the early stages of the trial, was keenly alert.
Once the judge retired to his chamber, Salman’s family rushed to his side, and, apart from Alvira, who had tears in her eyes, they appeared to hold up. From where I was seated in the middle of the room, towards the judge’s left, I could also see an exchange of faint smiles between Salman and Arbaaz.
The discomfiture in the room had heightened by this time. The fact that it had now begun to resemble a boiling cauldron due to the absence of electricity and the door that had been shut during the proceedings did not help matters much. Before long, the atmosphere was abuzz again with the rumour that Salman was in tears, leading to a frenzy as everyone rushed to get a better look at the actor. However, apart from the beads of perspiration scattered on his face, his composure seemed unshakable.
Finally, the judge emerged on the dais at around 1.26 pm to deliver the sentence. As journalists clambered over one another to hear what it was, a member of the court staff raised five fingers. Salman had been sentenced to rigorous imprisonment for five years and was soon taken into custody where he, reportedly, did allow for a tear.
Even that tear had, perhaps, been shed prematurely. At around 4.45 pm, Harish Salve, a senior lawyer, argued for an interim bail for the actor. This was granted by the Bombay High Court, for two days, by 4.50 pm on the same day.