They keep you safe for nothing

LOWER-RANK COPS DO BIG CHUNK OF POLICING, GET LEAST ATTENTION

A 42-year-old constable was mowed down when he tried to stop a mini truck driven by suspected criminals in Bharat Nagar in north-west Delhi on Friday morning.

Naresh Kumar Verma’s head was crushed under its wheels, killing him on the spot. Three days earlier, a head constable was shot dead and his colleague injured in an attack by unidentified men while they were investigating a case in Meerut, Uttar Pradesh.

At least 60 policemen — 90 per cent of them constables or head constables — have lost their lives in the line of duty in the last five years. In 2010 alone, 14 were killed.

“God knows how many hours of duty we do in a month. But I can tell you that sometimes, a week passes by before I get to speak to my children. When I reach home late they are asleep, and by the time I wake up they have left for school. In my job as a constable, we consider 16 hours of duty as normal. It is a tough job and even a roadside hawker has a better life then us. We cannot even quit as it would be difficult to get a job at this age,” said a 41-year-old head constable from IP Estate police station.

The grievances mentioned by him are just the tip of the iceberg. A peek into the daily routine of lower rung police officials can only invite sympathy. Constables and head constables cut a sorry figure, and almost all of them seem to hate their job. Why?

Working odd and long working hours, earning low wages, risking their lives, making enemies, receiving abuses from seniors for small mistakes, and serving the bosses’ families while keep their own waiting and unhappy — the 42,300 constables and head constables in Delhi Police are a harassed, stressed out lot.

The police’s job is to maintain law and order and prevent crime. But to attain this objective, reformation and modernisation of the force at the ground level is imperative. Turning a blind eye to dismal service conditions of these men is a grave mistake.

Odd, long working hours

A beat constable wakes up at 6 am and after a briefing at 9 am at the police station, he heads towards his area, where he interact with vendors, hawkers and informers. He checks banks, jewellery shops and important buildings on his beat. He makes a list of doubtful characters, meets resident welfare association members and senior citizens, and carries out regular patrolling at parks and religious places. But there is more to a constable’s day.

He also has to visit the local court if an old case in which he is an investigative officer, along with a senior sub-inspector or inspector level officer, is coming up. Then he is back again in his area.

“On a normal day, we might get a call about a fight between two groups or a pickpocketing case. It takes another two to three hours to investigate such a case and get it registered at the police station,” said a constable posted at Malviya Nagar police station.

He said if a crime happens in his area, his seniors pull him up. “If something big happens, at least five of us have to rush to the spot and we never know how long it would take. No senior is bothered whether we have slept even for an hour,” he said.

Policemen feel that a proper shift system should be worked out for them – like the one they have in Tihar jail. “A good administrator can make this happen,” said a head constable posted at Nabi Karim.

Hardly any weekly offs

After working for long hours,  policemen can’t even be sure of getting one day off in a week. Quite often, their regular weekly off day gets cancelled due to something urgent — a VVIP might be coming to their area, there could be a rally, or a heinous crime.

Public ire

Beat constables are the core of policing. They have to interact with local residents on a day-to-day basis, and often they face their anger. A beat constable posted at Shakarpur police station said, “I was standing near a shop for half an hour. Suddenly, the owner came and questioned why I was standing in front of his shop. He asked me to leave. I left and went to another place. But  within an hour I got a call that a snatching had taken place outside his shop. I rushed to the spot, only to face public ire,” he said.

It's worse when they are posted at a police picket. “When we stop a car to check documents, they straightaway start abusing us and make calls to senior officials in some ministries or in our department,” said a Kamla Market head constable.

Low wages

At the time of joining the force, a constable gets a net salary of between Rs 17,000 and Rs 18,000 per month. Five years down the line, he would get Rs 21,000 per month if he is not allotted a government accommodation.

A shocking part is that they get just Rs 75 as bicycle allowance and Rs 75 for cleaning their uniform. “Not everyone gets a wireless set. Those who don’t have it have to make calls continuously to report to seniors. But we don’t get a phone allowance,” said another constable.

Risk to life

Low wages come with high risk, as recent cases of attacks against policemen show.  “We take risks. We don’t know what will happen on any given day,” said a head constable from Karol Bagh station.

Better facilities

New technology has helped police keep up with criminals. The mobility of criminals has been matched by new patrol cars and advanced communication systems. Analysis of the nature of crimes has allowed police to take preventive measures. But focus is also needed on improving the lives of constables and head constables.

“We are working to provide better facilities for the constabulary. We are building a residential complex with schools, shopping areas and community facilities for them. This is being seen as a huge step that will boost the motivational levels of the force,” said Dharmendra Kumar, Special Commissioner of Police (law and order).

They hurt to escape from pain

A 14-year-old boy killed three women last month in Jahangirpuri over a loan of Rs 50. The incident came as a rude shock to police, lawmakers and residents as well.

The first victim was a 30-year-old woman who had loaned the boy Rs 50 and had informed about his mother about it. The boy stabbed her to death.

 When another woman and her daughter tried to intervene, he killed them too. He was produced before the Juvenile Justice Board and sent to an observation home.

In February, a teenager was held in east Delhi’s Jyoti Nagar for kidnapping and raping a 13-year-old class 8  student of a government school. He wanted to take revenge after she turned down his attempts to start a relationship.

Such cases create a picture of children with an immense capacity to commit brutality. But visit an observation home, and you see their ‘innocent’ face as well.

“I never wanted to kill anyone. I just could not take the humiliation,” the boy who allegedly killed the three women told Deccan Herald during a brief interaction at the observation home.

Seeing him play cricket with other juveniles, it is hard to imagine that he had killed three persons.

However, incidents of minors committing serious crimes in the Capital are frequent, as the official figures show. The number of juveniles involved in heinous crimes like murder, attempt to murder, rape, kidnapping and robbery in Delhi has increased slightly in the last four years.

More juveniles commit crime

According to the National Crime Bureau records in 2010, 160 juveniles were involved in heinous crimes. In 2009, the figure was 157; in 2008, it was 122 children, and only 90 in 2007.

In 2010, the highest number of crimes by juveniles was theft — 81 cases. It was followed by 54 robbery cases, 44 causing hurt, 37 rape and 35 murder. A slight increase is noticed also in the number of children actually apprehended under different sections of the Indian Penal Code. While 627 kids were apprehended in 2010, 584 were held in 2009. In 2008, 520 kids were apprehended.

In 2010, the largest number of juveniles – 139 – were apprehended for theft followed by 93 for robbery, 55 murder and 40 rape. In that year, 20 boys in the age group of 7 to 12 years were apprehended, while as many as 275 were between the ages of 12 and 16 years. The maximum number of juveniles apprehended — 324 — belonged to the age group of 16 to 18 years.

In 2010, of the total number of juveniles apprehended, 169 were sent home after advice, 81 released on probation and placed under the care of parents or guardians, 178 sent to special homes, 27 acquitted and 156 cases are still pending.

Another classification shows that of all juveniles apprehended in 2010, 154 were found to be illiterate, 235 had gone to primary school, 204 attended middle school and 34 had done matriculation.

Of 627 juveniles detained in 2010, 504 were found to be living with their parents, 87 with guardians and 36 were homeless.

Treating them with care

What is worrying police and lawmakers is that an increasing number of juveniles are coming in conflict with law across the country. Child counsellors say such children need to be treated with care.

“They are not criminals. They children also need care and protection,” said Amod K Kanth, head of NGO Prayas and ex-chairperson of Delhi Commission for Protection of Child Rights.

Children commit crime because of neglect by parents, drug abuse, boredom, poverty and negative influence of movies. Some child rights groups have found a link between adolescent crime and family problems. “When these kids face or see financial problems at home, they turn towards crime,” said a senior police officer.

In 2010, the family income of 408 juveniles apprehended was below Rs 25,000 per annum, and 122 had a family income between Rs 25,000 and Rs 50,000 per annum. The family income of 70 juveniles was between Rs 50,000 and Rs 1 lakh.

While 18 of them had an income of at least between Rs 1 lakh and Rs 3 lakh, only six were found to have an annual family income above Rs 3 lakh. More vulnerable Children who have been exposed to violent behaviour from childhood at home, have been victim of abuse or have suffered emotionally stressful conditions in the family, are prone to committing crime.

According to senior police officials, lack of attention from parents can result in children taking the wrong path.

In their search for affection and satisfaction, adolescents often turn to drugs to fulfill their needs. Some take to violence.

Class no bar

But many young offenders also come from affluent families.

“Nowadays, even children from well-off middle-class and upper middle-class families are turning to crime,” said Jeevan Anmol, a social worker. Peer pressure and the thrill they get out of doing an illegal act are major reasons, according to him.
 Child rights activists say good care and sound rehabilitation programmes will help affected kids keep themselves away from crime. They say such programmes are few in the country, and it is very difficult to maintain high quality in all of them.

“The need of the hour is to love children, nurture them and give them strength before it is too late,” said former child welfare committee member Randhir Kashap.

On the day Deccan Herald visited the observation home, a 16-year-old boy said, “Our parents barely manage three meals a day. I did not know that my act would bring shame on them. I will never do it again.”

Rape victims from North-East flee Delhi

Shunned by neighbours people and also by people of their own community, the victims had no option but to leave the city, said Madhu Chandra, spokesperson of North-East Support Centre and Helpline in Delhi.

“All such victims face discrimination at home as well as workplace, apart from having to suffer lewd comments,” said Chandra, citing the example of the most sensational abduction-cum-gangrape of a 30-year-old call centre executive at Dhaula Kuan on November 24 last year

“In around 40 instances of crime against women in the past two years, the police refused to register a case when the victims approached them,” Chandra alleged. And the government’s assurances of relief and rehabilitation remained mere promises. “We approached the government many times seeking rehabilitation of the victims, but no steps were taken,” he said.

Initially, the victims try to cope with their trauma and agony and within a few months, they break down and leave the unforgiving city.

“Like the Dhaula Kuan rape victim, all others too from the contiguous Northeastern states known as Seven Sisters - Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, Assam, Arunachal Pradesh and Sikkim - called it left after finding neither understanding nor support from neighbours and associates, said Chandra.

Changing residence and workplace makes it worse. The victims gradually get isolated. “Women from the Northeast feel very vulnerable here,” said Chandra.

According to figures provided by the Support Centre, of the total 63 cases of crime against women in last five years - including five rapes, five attempt to rape and 38 molestation cases - all ten victims of rape or attempt to rape returned home without fulfilling their dream of availing higher education or jobs.

Mamta Sharma, chairperson of National Commission for Women, said: “It is sad to know that rape victims had to leave the city. But they never approached us. We generally provide shelters, counselling and rehabilitation programmes for the victims.”

She admitted that victims of rape need a certain level of protection until they are capable of returning to normal life. “Whenever any kind of sexual harassment happens at the workplace, we generally approach the institution and initiate action against the culprits,” she claimed.

Harshita, Gungun and Manthan want to study but govt schools shun the disabled

Sumit Kumar Singh , New Delhi, Jan 7, DHNS:

‘I am not dead yet,’ their grandmother vows to get them admission one day

A lesser woman would have given up by now. For the last three years, 60-year-old Leela Devi has been struggling to get her three disabled grandchildren admitted to a government school, hoping to give them a better shot at life.

Their mother has left the family home – a one-room tenement in a slum in south Delhi’s Govindpuri. The grandparents and their son say she abandoned them because she didn’t care for the handicapped children.

Five-year-old Manthan can’t walk. Gungun, 8, has fits and a mental disability.

Harshita,12, too, is mentally challenged. The three can barely express themselves. And the government schools don’t appear keen to take on the challenge of having them.

Schools say they don’t have trained teachers to meet the needs of special children.

“I have knocked at the door of every organisation and school in the area but they are still shut for us,” says Leela Devi. 

After several attempts and with the help of an NGO, Leela Devi managed to get a Municipal Corporation of Delhi school at Kalkaji in south Delhi agree to admit Gungun.

But there are strings attached. The school wants her to stay with the child while she is on school premises. The school, Delhi Nagar Nigam Prathmik Balika Vidayalaya, made clear if the grandmother cannot stay back, Gungun should not be sent to school. Leela Devi says she has to take care of the other two children as well and if she remains with Gungun she wouldn’t be able to that. Her husband, Ramesh Lohia, takes on painting jobs, their son also hunts for small-time work.

Leela Devi says she wouldn't mind staying with Gungun if the other two are also admitted by the same school – so that she can keep an eye on all three together.

“I am ready to stay at the school the whole long day for my kids but the school is not ready to take them all, saying Harshita is too old and Manthan is too young.” It’s a primary school. “If all the three kids get admission in same school we both, husband and wife, will be there the entire day to take care of them,” Ramesh adds. “But no. They don’t want to give admission to our kids because they can’t speak clearly and they grasp things slowly.” Also, the school wants Gungun to attend only two days a week. Ashok Agarwal, an advocate and member of Social Jurist group, calls the case “plain mockery” of the Right To Education Act by the schools. “Every child whether differently-abled or not has the right to attain education and come to school everyday.”

“This implies that schools have failed to comply with basic rules. Unfortunately, there are no penal provisions under the RTE Act. But there should be one where you can hold the Department of Education and schools accountable for depriving children of basic education and violating child rights,” he says.

As the family talks with Deccan Herald, children from the slum are making their way to their schools. Harshita and Gungun tug at their grandmother, pointing at the luckier kids. Leela Devi takes Gungun in her arms.  “You all will go the school. I am not dead yet.”

G.B. Road – A world of its own

Just a minute drive from New Delhi Railway Station, three-storyed dilapidated buildings with fading paint was on one side of the road which carries a various flashy billboards that says -- G.B. Road, Shradhanand Marg. The street lights after few meters clearly shows that there is market which is closed during night.

The road was filled with speeding rickshaw pullers with two or one commuters. The rickshaw pullers fighting from other for pass. Whenever, a rickshaw stops near the one of these building – two to three men wearing black jackets and having deadly face approach them.

After a minute conversation, they then take them to dark corridors smeared with foul-smelling. As soon as they move, a few teenagers approach them and tries to sell something (condoms). These black jackets men shoo them away.

It was 11 p.m on Friday. The night was cold and foggy. I parked my bike between a few cars after crossing a police check post. As I took out the keys from my bike, two men from nowhere in no time were standing beside me. “Sahib kaisa chahiye (Sir what kind do you want),” said one of them, whose eyes were only visible as he had covered his face with a muffler to save himself from cold..
 
I was at Garstin Bastion (G.B.) Road -- the red light area – of the national capital and these two men who approached me were pimps -- dalals -- in the payroll of wealthier kothas. They were these for customers. I told them to come after ten minutes. But one of them threatened not to stand there. Police will catch you and throw out of the place. Come along with me. We will provide you whatever you want ... North Indian, South Indian, Foreigners, North East... Will also provide you whatever age ... 15, 16, 25, 35... will provide you everything. Will also provide you in whatever rate do you want,” said and put his hand on my shoulder and forcing me towards one a dark corridor. I resisted and asked them to leave.

Standing alone across the road where there is Indian Railways Coach Care Centre, I saw people in bike, cars, rickshaws and on feet coming and going inside the dark corridors with 'these men' to fulfill their carnal desires where bodies are sold for minimum of Rs 250.

Just to find how they operate and where are these khotas, I went towards these dark corridors. The shutters of the shops were closed and as I walked down, I witnesses a few aged women along with two to three these men – pimps -- sitting on a thin, dark staircase between the shops.

One of them, stopped me and asked me to come inside. I again resisted but then just to check out, I complied and entered into the stair and promised to pay them Rs 250. As I climbed, I saw five aged women sitting on the stairs. They asked me to shell out Rs 500. I told them I don't have. One of them, who was later identified as Manju , said give Rs 400 and get inside.

I was pushed inside the dark staircase and one of the aged women was acting as a guide. Then suddenly, there was light a bulb and a hall. One side of the hall was locked with huge iron grills. Women and men were sitting on a sofa and talking to each other. There was overbearing smell of inexpensive perfume, rancid body fluids and oil. A man opened lock and pulled me inside the hall and asked me to sit.

They inquired do I prefer liquor?. I said, “No.” One of them then went inside and called around five women and asked me to select one of them. Wearing blouse and petticoat with loud make up, the women were presented. All the eyes struck on me. There were smiles on their faces but behind that those smiles lies an untold tortured story.

Seeing them, I felt sorry and asked the man, who identified as Umesh, to open the lock and let me out the hall. He replied, “Why have you come here for wasting out our time during this peak business hour.” He opened the door and I with fast steps came climb down the dark staircase to the corridor where a few men were climbing up.

Out a three-storyed dilapidated building, I wondered how these 4000 women, confined in a four-by-six room, became emotionless, unthinking, mechanical sex workers.