Lesson from the lockup

Satish K Sharma

ADVOCATE Mehta (name changed) entered my office, his bright white shirt fighting shy of the shadows of the previous night — the one he had spent in police lockup. Grinning like a child caught in a prank, he touched his earlobes and said, ‘Sorry! We overdid it.’

I smiled. His contrition was surprising but not a piece of theatre. He often employed it in staging protests against this and that as the local chief of a Hindu right-wing outfit. I offered him tea and went over the events of the last 72 hours in my mind. 

Three days earlier, the District Development Officer (DDO) had rang me up in panic. Mehta and his acolytes had assaulted his deputy to protest the inclusion of eggs in the midday meal of schoolchildren. No prize for guessing the weapon of assault. 

I was the DCP and so rushed to the scene to find the DDO — a young IAS officer — visibly rattled, for another dimension had been added to the crisis. His staff had struck work as a protest to the assault. I asked the DDO to collect the staff in the office compound. 

Ten minutes later, the DDO addressed his agitating staff and assured strongest action against the miscreants and presented me as a proof of his sincerity. ‘The DCP himself is here,’ he said. I took the cue and told the gathering that I understood their outrage and promised quick action. 

A voice from the gathering called out, ‘Sir, you’ll arrest him and he will be out on bail the next hour. It has happened earlier. It has only emboldened him.’

‘He will spend a night in the lockup, I promise. Please return to your desks so that the police can focus on its work,’ I said, knowing that Mehta had committed a non-bailable offence. They relented. Towards evening I got a call that Mehta was ready to surrender if we produced him before the Magistrate the same day. I said he was welcome but we wanted to host him for the night. The caller hung up. 

We raided Mehta’s house and other possible hiding places for two days. The cat-and-mouse-chase tired him earlier than we expected. He walked in with raised hands, so to say. He spent a night in the lockup. The next morning, he was produced before the Magistrate who released him on bail. Two hours later, here he was before me. 

‘Whom did you have as company in the lockup? Not one of your clients I hope?’ He smiled nervously at my impish delight. ‘Sir, I have come with a question and an offer. Does the police keep its lockups unclean for a purpose? If not, please allow me to whitewash them at my expense.’ The leopard is changing its spots, I thought. ‘The answer to your question is ‘no’. As to the offer, why not stage a protest against unclean lockups?’ I said. He kept silent. 

‘Don’t worry, we will take care of the problem, but I hope you aren’t planning another visit there?’ I chuckled. His nervous smile made a vain attempt to cover the egg on his face and he left.