The Sunday Tribune speaking about Human In Khaki

WAY back in the early 20th century, the late Irish playwright Brendan Behan once remarked, "I have never seen a situation so dismal that a policeman couldn’t make it worse". You could say that about our police force today. An average Indian policeman is looked upon as a predator in uniform – ever ready to exploit the vulnerable, either on his own or in collaboration with the land’s rich and powerful. You get the glimpses of this in Ashok Kumar’s book, too. The very first "story" highlights the plight of a poor village woman, who is gang-raped by the Thakurs and the local police protect the perpetrators. Only the IPS officer Kumar’s intervention helps bring the culprits to book. There are other chapters that tell us of Kumar’s journey from the hinterland to the IIT-Delhi and subsequently to the IPS. Readers would be impressed with his idealism and his propensity for taking up cudgels on behalf of the underdog. How one wishes the tribe of such officers was larger!

The Sunday Tribune

Resonance Anunaad speaking about Human In Khaki

Man who made rapid inroads to help the society is truly a deserving persona to be idealized for his determination, perseverance and his commitment to serve the society.
Hailing from the small village of Kurana, at Panipat district in Haryana, it was 'a dream come true' for Ashok Kumar to be an IITian. However, when Kumar realized his interest was in serving the people, he decided to join the Indian Police Service (IPS). Kumar received his primary education from a village school and went on to pursue a B.Tech. in mechanical engineering and an M.Tech. in thermal engineering from Indian Institute of Technology- Delhi
(IIT-Delhi). He was awarded with the best writer of the year award in 1986-87 at IIT-Delhi. He is an avid reader of Hindi, English, Bangla and Russian literature. His other interests include Badminton, Tennis, Riding and organizing sports events.
Mr. Ashok Kumar (IPS), till recently has served in the capacity of Inspector General of Police (IGP), Garwhal and IGP Kumaon. He is presently on deputation with the Central Reserve Police Force in Delhi. He joined the Indian Police Service in 1989 and took up various challenging assignments in the states of UP and Uttarakhand. He received the UN Medal for serving in strife torn Kosovo in the year 2001. He was honored with the Indian Police Medal in the year 2006 by the President of India for his long and meritorious services for Indian Police .
He believes that it is difficult for an individual to take career decisions at the school level as it is little tedious for an ordinary to introspect and decide what one wants to pursue in one's life. Until and unless one is extremely clear and focus in one's future goals. Decisions at an early stage are primarily guided by others. It's only on-the-job when one realizes the nuances of a job and can decide on the future prospects to be carried on for the rest of the life. According to Kumar, IIT teaches one to be effective, efficient and excellent in every walk of life, and this helped Kumar in becoming a successful IPS. He efficiently handled the responsibilities of an IPS and realized that his strength lies in helping the poor, the needy and the suppressed.
Mr. Kumar quips, “As I had put in more years of service in the police force, at various stations, in various capacities, it became quite clear to me that despite of all the odds, I had been able to make a difference in the lives of the common man and this has always been my goal.” Kumar authored the book, “Human in Khaki”, with Lokesh Ohri, a writer, anthropologist and arts and heritage activist. The book is not a biography and also it is not a work of research. It does not seek to preach anyone, but just strings together anecdotes and thoughts from a policeman's life in the hope that society as a whole may gain from this effort of a written real life experience.
Emphasizing the need of a pro-active people-oriented policing, Dr. Kiran Bedi released the book- “Human in Khaki”, a book of 163 pages, published by Bookworld, Dehradun. The book is hard-hitting as it speaks on the contemporary issues and the changing value system of the society that bedevils the society today. Authored by
Mr. Ashok Kumar (IPS) with Mr. Lokesh Ohri, the book urges the common man to know about his rights.
The Book allows the public at large to peep into the working of the Indian Police. The book serves as a mirror to men in uniform. It portrays the functioning of the Indian Police and at the same time also encourages the common man to ensure his/her safety. The book's appeal holds equally for the government officials and for the ordinary citizens who in turn expect good governance.
The meticulously woven stories describe the varying and challenging outcomes which could have been worse, had the officers not been sensitive and perceptive to the needs of the ordinary individuals approaching them without the usual crutches of wealth or influence.

Covering all contemporary issues corrupting the society today- from terrorism to kidnaping, land grabbing to women's molestation, incidents of harassment by SMSs to eve teasing, extortion to corruption, the widening gap between the haves and the have-nots and its impact on society - 'Human in Khaki' is an eye-opener for not only the masses but also for the police officials. It talks candidly about the erosion of values in society today and also the struggles of a common man who wish to stand up for simple yet essential values that bind this country tightly, despite its screaming contrasts and inequities.
The book makes a good policeman to quiz himself on the following note-worthy questions:
1. Will my actions be good for the society?
2. Will my actions help the person who is in need?
3. Will my actions bring relief to the victim?
4. Will my actions deter the wrongdoer?
When the answers of these questions positively echo in one's heart, one can certainly boast of being a good policeman who has justified his existence & purpose.
The gripping narrative, written in a simple and lucid style, brings out happenings of real-life situations from a distinguished career, spanning over twenty years, in the Indian Police Force of an IITian turned cop, who adopted a humane approach to public service, trying to create a culture of people-friendly policing. “Human in Khaki” is a collection of select 16 short stories setting a precedent on how police officers uphold their human sensitivity while dealing with people and look at the problem from the victim's point of view and it is through this approach, the system in turn delivers the results. Undoubtedly, Kumar has not only proved his merit by excelling in studies but beautifully used the learning in a pragmatic way for the benefit of the society.

Resonance Anunaad

Police - Myths and Realities

The police guard at the door
Caring neither for his comfort...
nor the Sweltering summer, freezing winter or relentless rain

bound to his duty
stands alone with his rifle
salutes the sahibs that enter and exit.

Alas! There is none to realise,
The monotonous toughness of his job,
the pain of his struggle to make a living.

How he wishes the sahib would stand in for him
for just a few moments maybe...
and could undergo his experience...
by deflating his ego to the level of the guard’s self-esteem.

from my diary, 8th, March 1990

Corruption ?? Is it too difficult to eradicate ...

“As if the spirit of these so-called intellectuals

Is dead...

What remains is-

Just the ashes...

These soulless individuals...

These machine-like men...

Working in the name of modernity

I watch them-

Murdering humanity for their selfish motives...

Absolutely alone!”

from my diary, June 1986

Corruption is a malaise that has seeped deep down through the pores of our society to enter its blood stream. I had to confront this demon since the early days of my career. As the Assistant Superintendent of Police in Allahabad I came across two cases of corruption. I had just started my career and therefore was filled with enthusiasm to transform everything. I feel proud to this day that our response was so effective and exemplary that they are remembered even today.

One fine day, at least twenty-five lorry and truck drivers came with a complaint to the office of the Senior Superintendent of Police. The drivers complained that their trucks had been stranded on the Delhi-Kolkata highway since last five days. The staff of the Assistant Road Transport Officer (ARTO) had detained them. The staff had demanded a sum of Rupees Five Thousand from each of them, an amount they just did not have the capacity to pay.

They further narrated their woes, “Sahib, we pleaded before the ARTO to challan us. We told them that we are merely servants and our owners would deposit any fines if they were due, but please let us go and complete our jobs or our children would die of hunger. Now he has kept all our papers and is not even prepared to fine us. In such a situation we cannot even move without papers or challan receipts. We have been stranded since last five days and are starving since we have completely run out of money. We do not even have enough to feed ourselves.”

Who has not seen those long queues on the highways? We are all aware of what goes on in the name of checking undertaken by various agencies on our roads. The senior officer heard out their tale of woe and referred them to me. He instructed me that I should verify their complaint and if found true, I should try to trap the corrupt officials.

I asked the drivers to sit down and talked to them at length, trying to understand what was happening. I asked the station in charge and the local intelligence unit to dress up like the drivers and to accompany the drivers to talk to the officials. The drivers’ complaints were found to be correct. This was a clear case of corruption crossing all limits.

This was 1992-93, and during those days Rupees Five Thousand was huge sum of money, much beyond the capacity of any truck driver to pay as hush money. Had a more ‘reasonable’ demand been made, the drivers would have paid up and went on their way. Had the challan receipts been issued, for whatever offence, the demand would have been justified. Here, the demand made by the officials was so exorbitant and without any justification to support it, that they had been forced to group together and approach the police, an option we as citizens exercise only when pushed absolutely to the wall. In fact corruption has been recognised as part of life in India, and it is more often the citizen’s readiness to pay up that emboldens the official to demand bribes.

In this case, the drivers who were merely employed by the truck owners did not have the capacity to pay such a huge sum as a bribe. Some of them, whose owners lived not far away had actually come and purchased their right of way by paying up. The ones that were left stranded were the drivers from Delhi, Haryana and Punjab whose owners could not travel with the cash to free their trucks. Among these drivers was a retired policeman who had suggested to those stranded that they approach the police. A long queue of trucks could be seen along the highway as I drove past.

After the plainclothesmen reported that the complaints were indeed correct, I was convinced that this was a clear case of corruption and the guilty had to be trapped. We kept a few currency notes, with signatures on them, among the stack of crisp currency. These were handed over to the retired policeman who was now a truck driver. Plainclothesmen were deputed with him and sent to the ARTO outpost. The officials took this group straight to the officer himself. The officer was quite open about accepting the bribe. He did not display any shame, hesitation or secrecy in accepting the packet. He had a word of advice for the old driver, “You have been harassed for the last five days. You should have done this earlier and we would have let you go on your way. Give a piece of your mind to those idiots squatting on the highway. For how long will they keep camping on that highway?”

The moment the packet was received by him, the police officers accompanying the driver arrested the officer red-handed for corruption. The case, of course, was widely reported in the media. The drama did not end with the arrest. The drama unfolded to its climax when the officer’s bail plea came up for hearing at the District Judge’s court. Lawyers from the entire court premises came for the hearing. They shouted slogans and represented before the Judge that an official who is so widely known to be corrupt should not even be given an opportunity to present an application for bail. Such was the notoriety of the official that many lawyers stated openly that they had to pay bribes to him to obtain driving licences. Noticeably, not even one lawyer came forward to represent the official for the hearing of his bail plea.

This particular incident should not let us get trapped in stereotypes. We should not think that all ARTOs or government officials are corrupt. For one corrupt official there are several others who understand their responsibility and come forward to help others even suffering personal losses in the process. But experience tells us that when one crosses all boundaries of propriety, the system has a way of correcting itself and this is how the officials who sit in their high chairs undergo humiliation. The newspapers had widely reported this incident as a victory of the people over corruption. A headline that took the cake was “Highway Robbers Nailed!” What could be more shameful for an official who is responsible for upholding the law?

* * *

Another incident that I must mention here relates to the complaint against an Inspector of the vigilance cell of the electricity department. Such inspectors are on deputation to Electricity department from Police in order to prevent electricity theft. They are supposed to be alert on ensuring that no one consumes electricity without making due payments for the same. I received numerous complaints that this particular inspector would visit people’s homes and threaten people with cases for electricity theft, demanding huge amounts as bribes.

His main targets were hotel owners, industrialists, doctors running nursing homes and such people who would rather pay up from well-off businesses rather than go through the rigmarole of a police case, inquiries and court visits. They accepted the unreasonable demands because just the reporting of the case by the inspector meant adverse publicity and hassles.

A well-known doctor-couple met the city superintendent with a complaint against this inspector. The City SP referred them to me. I was quite perturbed to hear how this electricity inspector was harassing a well-known
lady doctor of the city. She narrated that it was in the evening at around four that a squad from the electricity department had raided their clinic. They had checked all connections and the electric meters. After having gone through the drill, the inspector who was accompanied by about four others had declared that one of the meters had gone defunct since several years. A direct connection had been made, a clear violation of the law. Now the clinic owners would be held liable for this lapse. A criminal case of electricity theft would be registered against them and they would be sent to jail. Not only would they have to pay up a huge amount for unpaid electricity dues but also a large sum for past defaults.

During the conversation he had also hinted to the doctor, who was by now quite disturbed with the ruckus he was creating in front of several patients and visitors, that a compromise formula could also be worked out to save their skins.

The lady doctor told me, “I was adamant that I would not pay any fines or hush money since I had dutifully paid all my electricity bills. Since we had committed no crime, we had no reason to run scared. I made it quite clear that I would not pay a single penny,” the doctor carried on with a faraway look in her eyes, “then the vigilance squad cut off our electricity connection and sealed the meters. They even removed some of the electric wire from the clinic and took it away as evidence of our theft. They wrote a report in front of our eyes that our crime is so culpable that they would lodge a first information report at the police station and press for our arrest on a non-bail-able offence.” While leaving the clinic, the inspector had once again hinted that he could still manage to save them if they were prepared to pay up.

The lady doctor’s husband, who was also a doctor, went on to say, “they treated us like petty criminals. They used foul language in full hearing of several patients and visitors. Tell me, sir, do we look like criminals? If this is so, please send us to jail. However, if you feel that we are honest professionals trying to cure people, please help us and teach these people such a lesson that the thought of even harassing honest citizens does not cross their minds.”

I had understood the gravity of their words. I asked the local intelligence to give me a profile of this inspector. It was reported that the man was quite a terror and this doctor couple was just one of his several targets. I hatched a plan to trap the corrupt official, in collaboration with the doctor couple. I asked them to go and negotiate with the vigilance team. When the deal was done, they came and reported to me. The doctor couple prepared a packet of currency notes and reached the hotel, where the inspector was staying, at the appointed time to pay the bribe. We were already there in plain clothes. The inspector was an easy catch with a packet of currency lying comfortably in his hands that were now awaiting the handcuffs. A total of fifty-five thousand Rs were recovered from his possession.

The very same people who were supposed to prevent electricity theft had turned out to be thieves, not just aiding and abetting crime, but themselves organising it. Shocking surprise that such people are openly operating in society without a speck of fear or repentance, with educated, well-off classes preferring to purchase their peace of mind from them!

Dowry Dilemmas

I would like to keep my flowers of love on your feet
I would like to gift my tender heart to you
I would like to present all my five senses to you
I would like to mortgage my entire life for you
I myself will light my pyre and sacrifice my life for you

But - that 'You'
respect a woman as a woman
and not as a toy in the shop
and that 'You'
will not be greedy for 'Dowry'.
and that 'You'
will not be sold as a commodity in the market.

Translated from a Telugu Poem by Mrs. B.V. Rao

In Indian culture, womanhood has always been treated with reverence. Woman is given equal rights and is often described as better half. On all social occasions woman’s presence is essential and rituals are rendered incomplete in her absence.

'Yatra Naryastu Pujyanate, Ramante Tatra Devata' (where woman is worshipped, gods reside), is a common refrain in our scriptures and establishes the significance attached to womanhood since ancient times.

However, the equality that our ancient ancestors professed for womanhood could not be maintained in the medieval times. A number of historical and social factors must have contributed to this downward spiral in woman’s status. In the times of the poet Tulsidas, women’s status declined further and they became objects of torture. With the medieval thought processes, the woman was confined behind the veil, she lost her predominant position in the family and her role in decision making also took a severe beating.

Modern Indian society, during its Renaissance period in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, adopted several regressive practices that severely undermined women’s position here. Some of them included sati, child marriage, widow ill-treatment and, of course, dowry as the most common of them all. The twentieth century has seen several efforts to emancipate womanhood from these social evils with movements and legislation being brought forth. And these efforts did bear fruit but growing materialistic greed amongst the burgeoning middle class ensured that social monster called ‘dowry’ could not be tamed.

By the eighties the demon of dowry had become so vicious that it just did not stop at ragging of brides in their husband’s home. It took the most devious form of bride burning or driving new brides to the point of committing suicide. The bride and her entire family were now being victimised in the name of dowry. This forced stricter legislation and by the year 1988, stringent laws were enacted for curbing the menace of dowry. The Indian Penal Code of 1861 vintage was also amended where sections 498 A and 304 B that included strict provisions against killing of a woman for dowry or driving a woman to suicide over dowry were added.

These were shameful times where marrying off a girl became a terrible burden for the parents. On the other hand, the grooms were up for grabs like buffaloes in a cattle bazaar. Thousands of young girls were killed and news on dowry killings, bride burning, poisoning became a topic daily debate in the media. Many girls, rather than burdening their parents with dowry, decided to end their lives. In 1986, I came across a disturbing and widely publicised case in Kanpur where three sisters, young girls, hung themselves from the ceiling fans to protect their poor parents from the devil that dowry had become. This incident made it to the front pages of all the Indian dailies.

Lately this monster of dowry has given rise to another evil of Indian society - foetal female infanticide. The gender imbalance as a result of this heinous act has reached alarming levels in several states of India. Today woman has equal rights in India but she is at grave risk, even before she breathes outside the mother’s womb.

As a police officer, I came across the dreaded face of dowry several times. I also came across misuse of stringent laws against dowry.

While I was posted as the Assistant Superintendent of Police in Aligarh in the year 1992, the station in charge sent word that a woman had set herself on fire in a nearby village and died. I decided to visit the crime scene to inspect. The thana in charge repeatedly described it as a case of suicide and tried to dissuade me from visiting the site. The moment I was advised against visiting the site, I smelt a rat. I made inquiries and came to know that the unfortunate woman had been married seven and half years. Dowry law provisions apply until seven years of marriage. As per the new dowry laws, even suicide is considered to be equal to murder if the suicide was forced upon the girl due to torture owing to dowry demands. This particular case could even have been homicide, a killing instead of suicide, and therefore I decided to investigate on the spot.

As I reached the village, I could see a large crowd had gathered. We decided to take a by lane and entered the village. The police jeep was now being tailed by a large number of children and young boys, probably excited at the sight of men in uniform. Inside the home were several veiled women and elders. The dead body was covered with a white shroud. We looked at the body and discovered blisters oozing with pus all over. The entire corpse had turned black, appeared quite grotesque in its transformation from a living body to roasted flesh.

The family members described the incident saying that they were all in the room on the terrace, while an elderly woman sat in the courtyard preparing a meal. The dead woman had locked herself up inside the room. I noticed that one door of this room also opened in the courtyard. They said that the woman had set herself on fire. As the people on the terrace heard desperate cries, they rushed to save the woman. Somehow she was taken out and brought to the courtyard. Before they could think of giving first aid, she was dead.

I saw that the courtyard was small. It was only twenty feet in length and about fifteen feet wide. There were two adjacent rooms that had stairs attached to them for reaching the rooms on the terrace. I looked at the door of the room and found it in good shape. It did not indicate a forced entry. If the woman committed suicide after bolting the door from inside, then it should have had signs of forced entry.

When I cross-questioned the family as to why they did not force the door open, brought it down, when they sensed that something was burning inside or heard cries of pain. They were rendered speechless, after some having contradicted each other. It was becoming quite apparent that the woman had been set afire. It was also quite clear that this foul murder had been committed with the collusion of the entire family and it would be quite tough to collect evidence since not a single soul in the household was willing to come out with the whole truth.

As I was questioning the elders in the family, the in-laws of the deceased woman, a six- six and a half years-old child suddenly cried out, “They did not break the door, she kept on crying for help, it was the villagers who came and opened the door after she had died.”

I looked at the innocent child and tried to imagine the unfathomable loss this child had suffered. I had heard that God dwells in children. How could god be so unkind to a child as to let him witness the burning of a mother? I knew that the child could not have been tutored into telling lies. My heart went out to this innocent child who had been forced to witness this heart-rending killing of his own mother by his own family. What could be more inhuman than this?

I called the child to me and patiently waited for his uncontrollable sobbing to subside. Lovingly, I asked him to narrate what had happened. He had been playing outside the house when this incident occurred. When he heard his mother’s shrieks, he ran towards the room. The door had been bolted from outside. None of the family members, the father, grandparents or the father’s sister had opened the door or made any effort to save her. The child ran out and called for help in the village. Only when the villagers arrived was the door opened.

The child’s testimony clearly proved foul play. It was sheer greed that had forced her family to perpetrate murder most foul. The family members were all guilty of not just killing in cold blood but also trying to mislead the investigation by hiding evidence. I ordered immediate arrest of the family members. My heart went out to the little child who would forever have to bear the scars of this shameful incident and would also live with the stigma of being from a family that were his own mother’s killers.

* * *

In Aligarh, I had the opportunity of investigating another case of dowry death. The earlier investigating officer, a Deputy Superintendent of Police, having been transferred out of the district, I was given the task of completing the investigation. When I read the files carefully, I came to know that the woman had poisoned herself and died. The in-laws of this girl had cremated the body without informing the girl’s parents. When the parents came to know of the death of their daughter they had registered a case of dowry killing. The groom and his parents had been arrested, while twelve others co-accused were yet to be arrested.

Looking at the rather long list of the people accused, I was confounded as to how so many could have colluded in the crime. I decided to investigate again. I gathered all the papers pertaining to the investigation and reached the village from where the case had been reported.

When I talked to people it was clearly established that the dead woman had indeed been harassed constantly for dowry by her in-laws. Tired of mental torture and physical abuse, the girl had consumed pesticide and killed herself. Under the dowry laws, death by suicide related to dowry that occurs within seven years of marriage is also treated as a dowry killing. A case was registered to the effect and the dead woman’s husband and parents arrested for dowry killing. They had, in fact committed a heinous crime and even displayed bad intentions by cremating the girl without informing her family. They were booked under Section 304 B of the Indian Penal Code.

Twelve others named in the case belonged to the same village. They had accompanied the family to the cremation out of social obligation. The earlier officer had named them as co-accused in the crime, guilty of trying to destroy evidence of crime since they had accompanied the killers in the funeral. I found this line of investigation quite absurd.

These twelve people were absconding since they had been charged, afraid of being arrested if they surfaced. People in the village informed me that the earlier investigating officer had even demanded money to let them off. Since they had refused to pay, they had been named as co-accused for murder under the charge of collaborating in a cover up.

I spent almost half the day in the village talking to several people. After having gone through all aspects of the case in great detail, I realised that the time and date of cremation, after the occurrence of death was decided by close relatives and family of the deceased. The neighbours had just come in to pay condolences and accompanied the family out of common social etiquette. Just doing this did not indicate their involvement in murder and the serious charge of attempt to destroy evidence. They had no intention of committing this crime. I decided that the names of the twelve should be deleted from the list of the accused in the case. When this was made public knowledge, the entire village danced with joy. These people did not have to hide themselves any longer. They had regained their freedom.

The perpetrators of the crime had got their just deserts but one had to ensure that the severe provisions of the dowry law were not misused to cause unnecessary harassment to ordinary citizens. This was the demand of judicious and humanitarian policing.

* * *

I have come across instances of misuse of the dowry law where the bride’s family frighten the groom and his family into abject submission, blackmail and then cut deals with them. Once a young girl’s dead body, a girl who died of natural causes, awaited cremation for one and half days just because the girl’s parents were negotiating over her corpse. They made it clear to the husband and his parents that unless they were paid a sum of Rupees Two Lacs spent on the wedding and an additional sum of Rupees Four Lacs as penalty, they would file a complaint of dowry death and have all of them arrested. They had delayed the cremation to realise the payment and allowed the cremation only when the cash had been delivered to them. What an irony that a law meant to save girls from torture was being misused to make a few extra bucks over an unfortunate death!

Once the money was given, they did not press for dowry death charges. I would consider this a gross misuse of a very timely law that had indeed put the brakes on dowry related torture of women. The laws are implemented and enforced by the police and a lot of sensitivity, humanity as well as transparency are needed from them to ensure that while the guilty do not go scot free, the innocent are not unduly harassed.

* * *

I met such a young couple a few years ago. Both the boy and the girl had obtained engineering and management degrees from prestigious institutions. They had landed good jobs, but in different cities. Before the marriage, it was agreed upon that the boy would continue to work in the city where his work place was located while the girl would move in with him and find a job in the husband’s city. Once the marriage had taken place, the girl and her parents made a volte-face. They wanted the boy to move to their town, live with them and find a job. This led to disputes and family quarrels, with the girl and her parents finally threatening to have the boy and his parents sent to jail under the dowry laws if they refused to fall in line. Even the boy’s brother and sister were mentioned as co-accused in the first information report. When we investigated the case in depth, we realised that it was employment and not dowry that was the bone of contention. Had the case been looked at superficially, the entire family of five persons would have faced arrest, public humiliation and harassment. Not that I did not sympathise with the girl. She had every right to work where she wanted, but what about the boy’s right to work in the city and organization of his choice? What about the boy’s family, who had committed no crime in this marital dispute?

Both parties were called and counselled. During the counselling the girl’s parents agreed that the real issue was not dowry related harassment. It was explained to the girl and her family that they were misusing the sensitive provisions of a very severe law, which was not justifiable. Finally both sides agreed and settled their dispute amicably. Thus a family was saved and innocents saved from imprisonment.

Legislation is, thus, only as good or as bad as the police force that enforces it.

Jail for the Jailor

“Materialism, opportunism, blatant murder of values,
humanity crushed under their heavy burden
Not something new!
This has been happening in all ages…

The reason why the problem is so acute today,
is that in the rat race of life that we run blindfolded,
these have been accepted as the values of life!

and those, who fail to run along
are termed as fools and eternal losers”


from my diary, February 1988



Our prisons are an important part of our criminal justice system. They have to play the important role of being reform houses and institutions that assist in preventing crime. Unfortunately, in recent years that rather than playing the role ordained for them, sometimes jails become safe havens for hardened criminals and mafia dons.

Criminals manage to enjoy a safe and luxurious stay here. The dons not only manage to serve their jail terms in comfort and protection, but also run their crime and extortion rackets from the confines of the impregnable walls. While conducting their nefarious activities, they do not even have to fear police encounters or attacks from rivals. Quite a few of these dons have even contested elections from the confines of a jail and managed to acquire a hold on political power.

Not all people who face a jail term are hardcore criminals. Sometimes otherwise law-abiding citizens undergo confinement due to spur of the moment incidents like a road accident, a family brawl, a property dispute. These citizens also become a target of organized crime within jails. The hardcore criminals threaten these people of physical assault and their families are forced to cough up large sums of money to ensure their safety. The criminals are protected from the law since being already inside a jail proves that they could not have been involved. This helps them escape punishment in lawsuits. In many cases the jail staff itself looks the other way when these gangs operate, since they themselves are frightened for their lives.

Not trained and battle hardened like the field police, the jail staff more often than not is frightened of the hardcore criminals and meekly surrender before them. In some cases the jail staff is in collusion, getting their share.

One day, as I sat in my office as SSP of a district, a stooping, old man hobbled into my office. He carried a stick and was unable to walk without its support. He was dressed in a tattered dhoti and a soiled kurta, like a small time village shopkeeper and spoke to me about his problems. In spite of his failing health he appeared resolute and firm in what he had to say.

He recounted that he had received a threat from a criminal, serving a jail sentence. This criminal came from his own village and had been sending extortion threats to him through letters at regular intervals. He had been asked to give away a sum of Rupees One Lac or be prepared to die himself or see his grandson dead.

I was surprised that even a person appearing to be of such an obscure social stature could be targeted. Wasn’t a sum of One Lac Rupees too high for him to pay? No, he assured me, he could give up anything and go to any extent, to prevent harm to his grandson. I pinched myself. I had to come out of this mentality that only a celebrity and wealthy businessmen could become a target of extortion. Even a poor old man could be forced to sell his land, his home or his shop to protect himself and his family from the criminal’s threats. One had to cobble together whatever the criminal demanded if the life of a dear one was at stake.

What really bothered me was his contention that the extortion racket was being run from the confines of a jail. How would the money be transferred, and to whom, I was wondering. As I articulated this question, the old man responded that they had asked for the money to be delivered in the jail itself. This was indeed a startling revelation as it completely exposed the ineffectiveness of our prison system. On earlier occasions also, I had come across cases of criminals running extortion rackets from jail, but here the startling fact was that the collection of extortion money would be done within the confines of a jail. It was a matter of shame and astonishment for me.

This helped me make a firm decision that the racket had to be busted forthwith. I knew that if the allegations were proved true, we would have to proceed against all the men in uniform who were involved in aiding the criminals. I decided to stem the rot, whatever the consequences. I spoke to the old man, “Baba, we can trap the criminals but it would involve risk. You will have to be bold if these criminals are to be dealt with. We cannot do it without your help. Are you prepared to help us?”

The old man took some time to decide but agreed to support us. With the firmness of a brave and responsible citizen, he said, “I am with you, sir. I am prepared to do whatever it takes to rid our village of this menace.” I asked him to take another day to think it over. I also advised him to come back to me after establishing contact with the extortionists and fixing the modalities of making the payment.

The old man returned on the day fixed for the operation, almost two hours before the scheduled time, with a packet full of notes. He was resolute and flushed with confidence, walking much straighter. “You look quite young today, Baba!” I quipped. He had informed the extortionist that he would be delivering the money in the jail, personally. He was convinced that he could help us trap the criminal. Sometimes ordinary looking people are also capable of displaying extraordinary bravery.

He responded to my remark saying, “Sahib, you heard me out, took me seriously and gave me the confidence that rather than begging the police for help, I could myself be of help to the society. You laid out a plan to trap these criminals. This means a lot to me. I am ready to face anything to put an end to this menace. I feel my life has acquired a new meaning, even if it is sacrificed in trapping these rascals.” I marvelled at the courage displayed by this frail person, who, until yesterday had appeared completely shattered with fear.

I felt grateful for the courage, this reserve of hidden inner strength that the old man had suddenly discovered like a long lost family treasure, for the greater good of the society. This could be our trump card. We marked the notes to lay a trap. A police party in privates, plainclothesmen, was deputed to accompany the old man under the pretext of looking up another criminal.

Entering a prison demands legal procedure. First of all, one has to take permission for entering the jail. Then the personal details of the person, his time of entry and exit, whom to meet etc. are all noted down in the logbook. The Police party in plainclothes had to go through all the painstaking formalities, while the old man, carrying a packet full of banknotes was not subjected to any of these formalities and was escorted by the jail personnel to the meeting room, for an audience with the extortionist. This was a clear indication that some of the jail staff was in league with the extortionist.

The extortionist accepted the money, declaring that the old man had just purchased a new lease of life for himself and his grandson. He would spare their lives and protect the old man’s family from other criminals as well. He then handed over the packet to a member of the jail staff, for safekeeping, accounting and distribution to the other conniving criminals - in uniform and out of it.

The old man held his nerve and walked out of the meeting room after thanking the criminal. At the same moment, the police team in plain clothes, who were in contact with me over the phone, were instructed by me to get into action. I advised them to immediately disclose their identity, collect evidence of the money having changed hands and begin interrogations. I also asked them to inquire how the old man was allowed to enter the jail without any procedure being followed. Several questions needed answers, there and then - How was it that the money was allowed inside a prison? How was the old man allowed in without even a register entry? How was it that the jail manual procedures were completely ignored?

The police party made detailed investigations. They recorded statements that the extortion money had indeed been paid while the legal procedures as laid down by jail manuals had not been followed, in open collusion with the jail staff. It was clearly established that the jailor himself was to receive a share in the booty and without his approval it would not have been possible to bring a packet full of cash inside the prison.

I had witnessed many occasions on which policemen were punished for their misdeeds. But this was for the first time that I had come across an incident that the staff at the jail, in order to fulfil their petty needs, had permitted this evil business to flourish, which was instrumental in discrediting the entire law enforcing machinery. How could the citizens trust the system under such circumstances?

I had to take a tough call. I had to order arrest of the jailor and the staff involved, under the legal sections of extortion. Probably, this was the first time in the history of prisons that a jail in charge was incarcerated in the jail that he was supposed to have run. The jail staff union threatened to go on a statewide strike. However, once an arrest was made, the law had to take its own course. All evidence was painstakingly collected and a detailed charge sheet was sent to the courts.

The extortion racket was effectively busted. The new jailor was a no-nonsense man and he improved the working of the jail manifold. He ensured that the jail was not allowed to become a safe haven for criminals, and functioned in the manner in which it should have worked in the first place.

The old man had set an example for all citizens to emulate and proved his worth for the society.

I Refuse to Toe the Line…

People with feudalistic, colonial mindsets,
Blindly treading the beaten path,
And while toeing the line themselves,
Preach that others also follow them.

But…
Breaking the shackles of this burden of the past –
Daring to come out of the false pretensions of the feudalistic hierarchies,
Refusing to toe the line that prevents positive change,
Thinking like a human…

I believe,
while dressed in khaki,
and being human –
Is not so difficult, I hope?!

from my diary, 31st, March 1990

Blind Folded justice and my fight against this

Blindfolded Justice


"Jumman Seikh felt an acute sense of responsibility as soon as he sat on the high chair of justice, the ‘Sarpanch’. He thought, he was sitting on the high seat of justice and fairness, whatever was uttered by him as a judge, became the voice of the God himself. There was no space for petty, selfish thoughts in God’s voice. Even a slight deviation from the truth was not acceptable."
from Munshi Prem Chand’s ‘Panch Parmeswhar’

Roorkee is a significant town in the Haridwar District of Uttarakhand. India’s first engineering college 'Thomson College of Engineering' was established here, which is now an IIT. The town is established on the banks of the Ganga Canal, designed by Colonel Cautley. His architectural genius has won him the title ‘Modern Bhagirath’. The canals snake through into several parts of Uttar Pradesh like arteries of prosperity where irrigation has largely been made possible because of this canal.

Roorkee has acquired a cosmopolitan milieu on account of the IIT and military presence, while it is till today surrounded by rural pockets. These rural pockets resemble Muzaffarnagar and Saharanpur much more than Haridwar in their social culture and folk traditions.

The year 1996 saw an inhuman act being perpetrated that could shake anyone’s faith in the entire humanity. This mass-crime also put an indelible smear on our centuries’ old system of village justice, the Panchayat. This incident, involving a twenty year old poor labourer and his wife, is sure to incite extreme revulsion in the minds of the reader, as it did then in us, forcing us to hang our heads in shame at the very thought that such an atrocity could be perpetrated in the name of dispensing justice. What was even more shocking here was that not even a single individual had come forward to prevent this wrong from being committed against the young, poor couple.

One day, while I was working in my office in Haridwar, I received a phone call from a station in charge. He sounded dazed, as if a ghost had just paid him a visit. He reported to me, in a shaking voice, that a poor labourer had come to his station riding a bullock cart from the nearby village. On the bullock cart had been loaded a stringed cot on which was lying the poor man’s wife. The woman was almost unconscious, unable to move her limbs, unable to utter a word. She had been brutally raped, sexually assaulted, by more than fifteen men!

The incident was indeed gravely serious. There was not a moment to lose. The station in charge was supposed to act quickly rather than tremble in fear. My first instruction to him was to ensure that the woman received medical help immediately. I rushed to the crime site while making a mental note that the hospital would be my next stop. Roorkee is about thirty kilometres away from Haridwar. By the time I reached Roorkee, the woman had been admitted to the hospital. The doctor informed me that the victim had suffered severe mental strain. She was not in a position to speak because of this. Continued physical abuse had ensured that she was almost a wreck, a vegetable that could neither move a limb, nor even sit up. Thankfully, The doctor assured me that she was out of the danger zone and would survive and live to tell her horrendous tale.

My presence at the hospital ensured that she was treated with even more care. She was now being provided the best possible medication and injections. I was apprehensive that the news of this woman’s ordeal would spread quickly and it would be talked about repeatedly in the general ward, with staff and visitors paying her repeated visits out of a convoluted curiosity. This could hurt the tormented woman even more. I ensured that she was shifted to a private ward, protected from onlookers and then tried to ascertain the facts from the woman’s husband. What I heard from him was the most incredible tale of human beastliness.

The man was a twenty two year old, lean, impoverished labourer. His clothes were soiled and tattered. His face and lean frame betrayed years of backbreaking bonded labour. He told me that his wife and he worked together in a nearby brick kiln as daily wage labourers. It was a hard life and they could barely make both ends meet. The contractor who ran the kiln employed an accountant who cast an evil eye on his wife. He was able to entice her gradually, showing off his relatively wealthy position.

He candidly admitted that he understood her predicament, since ever since they had married she had been forced to perform the backbreaking task of lugging rocks and sand. The hopes for a comfortable existence had disappeared for her soon after their wedding day. There was no scope for even any hint of marital bliss, as they would have to slog for ten to twelve hours every day. When they reached the hovel they called home, they would crash into their beds. And the next day once again brought nothing but backbreaking work besides the unending household chores.

The woman left the labourer and eloped with the accountant, nursing hopes for a better existence, an escape from the drudgery of life at the brick kiln. She could not resist the temptation of riding the accountant’s motorcycle, an enticement so strong that she had forgotten her doting husband and even the insurmountable caste barriers. The glimmer of hope of a better life entrapped her being completely. And, the poor man’s affections for his wife still did not diminish.

The husband was taken aback, by his wife’s sudden disappearance. He pleaded before the contractor to help search for his wife. The contractor assured him that he would help. The husband picked up his bicycle and went out in search of his lost companion. After a relentless month long search, he finally managed to track her down. During this period the accountant had sexually exploited this woman. Her dreams of a better life had come crashing down. The accountant had his own family to look after and she was soon reduced to the status of a concubine. He gave her no money, abused her all the time and her existence was worse than that of a prisoner. She longed for the tenderness that her earlier man displayed towards her. With the labourer, existence was tough, but one could at least survive with one’s self respect intact and one was not be reduced to being a sexual slave.

After several rounds of pleadings and negotiations, the poor and powerless labourer managed to free his wife from the clutches of the accountant. Such is the helplessness that poverty imposes. This, however, did not damage the man’s spirit or depreciate his love for the woman he had taken as his wife. He took the incident in his stride and accepted his beloved once again, unconditionally. He had neither the capacity nor the desire to seek revenge over the man who had stolen his love away from him. Nor did he nurse any ill feeling towards the woman who had left him for a more comfortable existence. He was contented that his wife had come back to him and did not want anything other than a life of togetherness.

It was late evening when he returned to his village along with his wife. The news of their arrival soon reached the ears of all and sundry in the village. Rural life does not afford a person any privacy. What transpires in one's life becomes a subject matter of public debate and censure. People know everything about everyone and each feels entitled to hold and express opinions on the other’s life. It was no different for this recently reunited couple.

This was an occasion for the so-called wise elders of the village to come together, debate and decide. After all, they were the upholders of values, the guardians of social propriety. They shouldered the onerous responsibility of protecting ‘dignity’ of caste and ‘culture’. They called for the Panchayat, a council for judgement, of the entire community.

The presence of so many elders intimidated the couple. Important people in the caste hierarchy had all come to participate in this trial. The poor man was forced to relive the woeful tale of his wife’s elopement and return before the entire community. Then it was the turn of the upholders of morality to sit in judgement. For hours the debates raged on. After splitting hair on the circumstances that transpired, the Panchayat came up with a decision that puts all of humanity to shame. They held the woman’s lack of character expressly responsible for the suffering of the man. Shockingly, their judgement reflected complete lack of even the faintest trace of human feelings.

According to them, the woman’s biggest misdeed was to elope with a man from another caste. They held that the woman’s running away had brought shame to their own caste by suggesting through her actions that all males from their caste had been rendered impotent. This was an unpardonable crime in their widely shut minds. In their judgement, such a challenge, such an insult to their manhood, their caste superiority, could not be condoned and the men folk of the community would now have to prove to the woman that they were indeed virile and potent. How else could they do that but by raping her, in full knowledge of the entire community?

This was Stone Age justice being dispensed in modern India. The ‘accused’ woman was not even granted an opportunity to present her version before the judgement was pronounced. The fact that the man was not willing to press any charge against the woman was completely disregarded. Perhaps the most disgusting aspect of the entire charade of justice was the unconditional public acceptance of this absurd and sham ‘justice’. Not a whimper of protest rose from anywhere; no one could muster an iota of courage to come to the woman’s aid.

After the Panchayat had pronounced its wicked and senseless judgement, the men began to compete with each other to prove their potency. The devilish dance of sexuality, the naked plunder of human values and relationships continued for hours as this helpless, pleading man stood at the door while sixteen men, one after the other, entered his humble home and proved their ‘manhood’ before a woman who had been reduced to nothing but a corpse. This beastly dispensation of ‘justice’ began at nine and carried on well past midnight when the woman finally lay unconscious, almost dead, drained of all dignity and spirit.

Now the same ‘virile’ men were frightened of her unconscious state, out of their wits that their ‘justice’ had killed the woman. The very thought of going to jail was enough to make their manhood disappear into thin air.
As I heard this horrific account I had to pinch myself to bring the realisation that I was sitting in the present times and not the dark ages. I was indignant, bursting with rage, as this calm and composed man narrated his story. What really made me blow my fuse was that not even one soul in the entire village had the guts to raise a voice against this inhuman act or even make an effort to reach the police.

The next morning, this man had put the wife on the ramshackle bullock cart and brought her corpse like figure to the police station. How could we condone such travesty of justice in the name of caste based Panchayats was a question that refused to go out of my brain. I asked the station in charge to accompany me to the crime scene.

As I approached the mud shack of this man, I relived the horror once again in my mind. The shack was situated in one corner of the village. Several such shacks had been built around a courtyard and one belonged to this couple of misfortune. This courtyard was the scene of the beastly ‘justice’, the deplorable crime against all of humanity.

I ordered immediate arrest of all sixteen men who had raped the woman with the application of sections such crime entails. That each and every member of the Panchayat that had pronounced the shameful verdict would be placed under immediate arrest as accomplices in rape was something that I ensured before leaving the spot. The station in charge tried his best to explain that this would unleash caste animosity against the police. Mass arrests would attract unnecessary media attention. I was adamant and firmly believed that such crime had to be dealt with swiftly, firmly and adequately. There was no room for compassion just because the modus operandi of the criminals smacked of mass hysteria. Action had to be swift, there was no room for delay.

It was also quietly suggested to me that the couple could withdraw charges against the community, if the community agreed to offer some compensation. It was clear as day now why the station in charge was trembling while he gave me the news of the half-dead woman’s arrival. What cripples our system at times is the terrible tragedy of people trying to condone wrong in an effort to save their own skin. My officer was trembling at the sight of this woman because he felt he would be held responsible for such a major crime occurring in his jurisdiction. He feared suspension from service and wanted to hush up the matter fearing for his career.

How could we hold the officer responsible? Even if he had been pro-active, he could not have managed to prevent a well thought out social crime that had the entire community’s sanction and approval. This mass crime was not an act of greed or passion; it was a result of a diseased mentality. The hysteria of caste honour had overtaken humanity, the community not even bothering to spare a thought for the havoc being wreaked on two lives, almost having claiming the woman’s.

I reassured the officer that he would not be proceeded against. I drilled into him that such heinous crimes would only multiply if we chose to brush them under the carpet. As policemen it was our bounden duty to take cognizance of such social wrongs and try to punish the guilty. As a result, all the Panchayat members and the men who wanted to be ‘living epitomes of high caste manhood’ were paraded to jail and proceeded against.

The magnitude of the incident became evident to me only the next day when I looked at the newspapers. Every National newspaper carried the incident in its lead stories. The third day, a team from the National Commission for Women came to make inquiries. Media and the Commission alike criticised the crime and yet praised the promptness of the police action.

Now the officer had understood that he would have been an accomplice in this crime if he had hushed up the matter. Police, would have failed in its duty to coming to the aid of humanity, had we not acted. After all, do we not become partners in crime if we allow the criminals to go scot- free?