With the baby bump

Life in Police Department is full of surprises, morning may seem as an usual day but by evening the entire picture may change and we cannot predict where we may wander in hunger or in a jungle for a day or two or on the streets of city under the scorching sun. 2011, as usual woke up in the morning, did my house hold chores from washing, cleaning and cooking. My baby bump does not allow my khaki uniform to fit me in, I bought a matching Khaki coloured saree. I draped the saree and stood before the mirror adjusting the stars on my shoulder, a uniform saree means too many staff to do. Pop! pop !The continuous blowing of horn irritates me, as usual my husband being late for his work, a criminal lawyer. Lacking skill to drap in the 5.5 meter piece of cloth, I struggled with the plates and with a final touch tucked in the folded plates and hurried to the car waiting on the courtyard.


Within 5 minutes I reached my office, Eid was nearing and many of our officers posted at that time followed Islam religion, they already availed leave to be with their family to celebrate the festival, SI Atiqur Rahman the second officer was also on leave, I had to manage his table, my pending cases, new endorsements, verifications along with data returns to the query from headquarters, CID, STF etc and the duty to poke other officers for case submission. I knew of meeting targets in cooperate sector and only after being into this department I learnt about targets in respect of monthly case disposal.


I walked into the Police Station building, the sentry duty greeted with salutes and answered few of them regarding my health, I drag my chair, sat on it adjusting my saree and pulled the chair closer to the table. “Good morning Madam”, Constable Rudra Gogoi placed few WT ( Wireless Transmitted ) messages on my table. I brought the sheets closer, I started reading one after another, “To: all Os/C and I/Cs concern, Info: DISPOL BOKABARI, DISPOL BORGHAT From :O/C BOKABARI PS, S/No. :BOKABARI PS/MMR.NO.65/55-56/2011, One Sri Dinesh Baruah, S/O Lt. Umesh Chandra Baruah, R/O College Road, Disanggaon, Bokabari PS, reported this PS on 13/07/2011 that his daughter Smti Disha Baruah, Age 16 years, Height 5’1’’, complexion: swarthy, Built: average, Hair: Curly shoulder length, Dressing: Blue Kurta, white leggings, Body mark: cut mark on left cheek, is missing from home, since yesterday 12/07/11( . ) Please cause an enquiry in your respective jurisdiction and if traced communicate this PS immediately via return signal and telephone no .03772323232 ( . ) MMU ( . ) O/C APRO TRANSMIT PLEASE ( . ), the second message of vehicle theft, the third Case diary call for by Hon’ble High Court, Gauhati, fourth unidentified death body, fifth, sixth…a total of 23 messages.


“Namaskar Borghat Police Station!” responding to landline phone, “Good morning Madam a murder case near Borphukan Panchyat Office”, I replied, “Did you inform Borphukan Police Out Post”, “Yes!”, the phone disconnected, knowing the Out Post to be a smaller one with smaller force I called the sentry duty to inform SI Siva Charan Das to proceed to the place of occurrence, at the same time I picked up my mobile and scroll for the last dialled number in my call log, I dialled Inspector Mohen Saikia the then Officer In Charge..Tut..Tut..Tut…, after couple of minutes, “Madam, Siva Sir is not in the Police Station and I also tried his phone, but, not responding”, I lifted the receiver, I dialled 9954******, the other end received the call saying “Hello!, Hello!, Hellllloooooo!……Hellllllo..Kati gal!, kati gal! (got disconnected)”, I tried two more time the same response kati gal! kati gal!, the sentry duty was standing beside me, I ordered him to send one constable to his quarter, in the mean time I repeated dialling my Office In Charge’s number via my mobile phone, he was out of police station for a case investigation, at last he responded before I could say anything, “Tripti, I got the information, you send someone immediately I am also proceeding to the Place of Occurance”, while my conversation was still going on, the constable returned and said, “Sir’s, door is locked from inside but there was no reply, I rang the calling bell several time”. Those days due to deficit of man power everyone was exhaust, even SI Siva Charan executed patrolling duty the last night to keep the thieves at bay, these nocturnal are very clever and keep a good track of, if the Officer in Charge, The Town Sub Inspector, or any other police officials are on leave or out of station for any tasks and make the most of it.


Tring! Tring!, The telephone rang again, “Hello”, the other end, “ Hello, Madam, please come soon, the public are getting agitated and they are rushing and pelting stones on us and causing damages to the Out Post”, I immediately conveyed the same to OC Borghat PS and also about the unavailability of SI Siva Charan Das and assured him that I will handle it, the other end, “be careful in every step” I ordered the sentry duty to call the driver, the armed force and a woman constable. Within no time the movement inside the Police Station quicken up, I could hear the constable calling each other by names, “woman police…woman police, call Jaya”, sounds from the Malkhana, cock of rifles, someone saying, “Please pass on that baton”, “6 pieces of riot controlling gear, shields and helmets”. While these were going on, I open my trunk for my peace colour clip board, I took sheets of paper, carbon and few leaf of inquest forms. The thin aged bald driver Hazarika hurriedly came to me, “Madam, the vehicle is ready and also the force”, the driver ran ahead of me, he started the vehicle, I took my clip board, the papers pinned on it and walked out of the PS building, the vehicle was standing close to the PS entrance, I lifted my saree plates carefully, these saree plates are very annoying, when you step upstairs, the plates comes beforehand and ends stepping on it leading to either fall on face or the tucked in plates may come out, the sentry duty from behind, “Be careful Madam”, I occupied myself in the front seat, I turned back, our men were fully equipped with shields, rifles and baton, and Jaya just as the cutlet in a sandwich, “I asked her, whether she was able to breathe”, She merrily replied, “I am fine Madam”.
The vehicle took us through the country side towards Borphukan OP, On seeing the huge gathering I could make out, that we were reaching the Panchyat Office, I got down from the vehicle, Jaya was beside me, she was much concerned for me, specially for the 7 months life inside my womb, our force pushed the gathering away making us way to enter the office, after 20 steps, I saw a body lying on the green carpet of grass, a youth probably in his late twenty, standing near the body I can see the huge paddy field beyond the wall. A bare body and on bottom a pair of grey trousers, his feet were muddy and a pair of black sandals, a scissor and a green and red coloured bottle of insecticide were lying beside him, patches of burn injury in triangular shape just in the middle of his chest was visible, A corner of white paper was peeping out from his pocket. Majistrate Mrinmoy Nath, ACS the Circle Officer arrived, he inquested the body, I assisted him, our constable checked his pocket, he pulled the corner of the paper from his pocket, a letter, I tried to read the same, a fabricated story, in fact a very bad story trying to give shape of suicide, he then turned the body, some dark patches on his buttocks. By now our Officer in charge Inspector Mohen Saikia arrived, I pointed him the body, the clip board rested on my baby bump, I hurriedly wrote the prayer to the hospital, the command certificate to the constable who will be escorting the body, filled the dead body challan along with the inquest report sent it to the hospital for conducting Post mortem examination. However the Panchyat Office task was executed without much hassle. We than proceeded to Borphukan OP.


The cacophony and the huge crowd drew attention from far away distance, some were raising hands for slogans and others to pelt a stone. Our vehicle was stopped about a half mile away from the epicentre of mob Borphukan Poilce Out Post, we walked, few of our men ran ahead, with their arms hanging from their shoulders, shield on the left hand and the baton on the right, few walked by me. I tried to protect my little thing inside with both hands hugged and to cover as much as I can, I was mentally prepared to receive a pelted stone on my head, on my back, elsewhere but not on my belly and with each steps heading I prayed to the almighty for the safety of tiny heart beating inside me. Circle Officer Mrinmoy Nath with his frowned eye brows to me, “Why did you come”, and also I heard someone whispering, “an expecting mother”, it is said seeing death or any negative thing during pregnancy many welcome bad luck”, I answered him, “Sir, whatever the situation may be, everything will be good if I do my duty with sincerity, and my dedication for work will bring positivity for the baby inside me and this is an opportunity”, Somewhere I felt that my baby is witnessing the hardship I am through , every bit of service I am rendering, whatever it may be, at least the baby will receive some positive vibes of honesty. And because of these experiences today I have a story to tell.


I walked into the Out Post campus, chaos everywhere, a stone rain, shattering of window panes, yelling, shouting, few stones hit our policeman, there was blood, a blue car was smashed and lying upside down beside the building, I stepped into the building unhurt, though the mob was violent, but still they were humans too and that was the only reasons for the stones missed me, I crossed the mob and finally I was inside the building, everywhere bits of broken glasses were lying on the table, on the racks and on the floor. My eyes caught hold something beneath the table, the smell of piss poked my nose, a little effort of bending I could see our constable Dipankar Khonikar breathing heavily, I saw fear in his eyes, his forehead shone with thick droplets of sweat, his shirt was wet, later I learnt the mystery of the smell, few amongst the mob poured urine on him. Our Officer In Charge was busy controlling the mob, while I comforted him to bring him out, to the right I saw two boys behind the bar, wearing formal trousers and on top, one in a blue vest and the other in brown, and their face worn by gloom. The Sentry unlocked the lock up room, the two suspected accused persons come out of the lock up one after other, I took three of them, Dipankar needed support to walk and with my people escorting from the four direction and covering us with the transparent mob shield moved to the vehicle, once we were in the vehicle, Hazarika within no time pressed the accelerator and alike a bullet we were out from the place of occurance, I turned back the heads became invisible and the noise were heard no more, and finally we reached hospital.


Constable Dipankar Khonikar sustained injury on his spine and lacerated injuries all over his body, he was admitted at the surgical ward, however the two youth did not have any injury, I took them to the Police Station.
A written complaint on the murder was received and the Officer In Charge on receiving the ejhaar registered the case vide Borghat PS case no. 544/11 U/S 302/34 IPC and endorsed me to investigate the same, I took the responsibility and accordingly started up.
During investigation it was learnt that an office bearer of Panchyat Office saw the body in their campus, this followed by a chaos and slowly people started gathering, I interrogated the boys and as per their statements, these two youth at that moment, they were passing by that way, seeing the gathering neared them and stopped there to take a brief note on the incident and later they slowly step back to go for their respective work, by than one person suspect them for murdering since they stepped back and slowly one after the other the whole gathering started chasing them. They ran as fast as they could to escape the mob and entered Borphukan OP, Constable Dipankar Khanikar to protect the help seeking boys, opened the gate for them, seeing the huge mob, he immediately locked them up behind the iron bars and in between he tried to shift them to Sadar Police Station, due to the insufficient strength available in the Police Out Post. Khanikar sensing the consequence took out his personal car, since at that moment the Out Post’s vehicle was out, by than he took the boys and made them seat in his car, the raging public followed them and started all the nuisance and finally it became uncontrollable. They boys ran back to the lock up, usually people stays miles away from police and lock ups but these people found it the safest place, Khonikar was beaten black and blue and his car was thrashed upside down.

With passing of each day my investigation progressed and also the movement inside me, my date was approaching, so, with the suggestion of medical practitioner I availed maternity leave and prior to that I handed over my case diaries to the Officer In Charge.

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With the baby bump

The Talisman

The wind was blowing slowly and the new born chirping in their nest on the jungle gernium flower plant close to our veranda and the mommy bringing home tiny worms in her break. While I enjoyed watching the birds’ family, the present scenario pollution impact in our day to day life sadden me, even the tiny nest had several plastic strings entangle between the twigs. I pointed the same to my uncle, he too shared few words regarding plastics dumping in the river and disturbing the aquatic lives, and from the plastic strings reminded him of threads which he once used to tie a talisman.

I was sitting on the veranda by my uncle, he was sitting on a brown armed plastic chair, and me on a cane stool with an orange floral print cushion, he took the joy of sharing an experience ruminating his gold old days,


He started, “During those days when I was working in a big Tea Estates as Head Tea House, every morning at 4.00 AM , I paddled to the factory and by evening 5.00 Pm I paddled back….

“Mon, ahila” (Mon, you came), “Mon, juwai niki ?” (Mon , you are leaving?), were the words of a shop keeper near our factory within the Tea Estate, Sometimes I buy few necessities and sometimes we exchange smiles and sometimes ideally our conversation lengthen to 5 minute or 10.
An aged man, whom I address as Bordeuta, with his grey hair, a little bald, a mole on his right cheek and a thin moustache, with full sleeve white vest and knee length white dhoti was his daily attire, during the summer he fan himself with a bamboo hand fan while he sit on a bench made of bamboo under the shade of a huge banyan tree.

I was done for the day and was in a hurry to be back home, for your awaiting aunt and cousins, then little kids, Bordeuta stopped me , I held my bicycle’s brake, the rattling sound stopped, which was at its highest note on the pebbled road, Bordeuta with much annoyance said, “Listen, I am disturbed”,I questioned, “But, why?”, “Do you know someone practising witch craft?” I replied, “I have heard of one Deauta bez in our locality”. He than narrated his story of how a family is troubling him, all the four brothers takes away goods from his shop and when money is asked, they threaten him and land slaps on his cheek instead, and sometimes thrashes his goods here and there and now, they does regularly.


Almost dark fell, and I had a long distance to paddle home, I left him saying, “I will talk about it tomorrow”, reaching home, sipping a hot cup of tea and the bites of some freshly fried pokoras relieved the day long tiredness and than the grocery list to the market and the conversation with my Maa, your aunt and the kids fighting for the toffees were all in my brain.


Next day, hurriedly I paddled to the garden, at noon for a short break I walked out of the factory, my eyes caught of Bordeuta’s and at the first glance his query flashed back my mind, before I could start anything, he approached and repeated his story and asked me to bring him a Talisman to get rid of the troublesome family. I could not refuse his repeated plead, But, on the other hand I was not of a kind to go to a witch or a warlock and bring him what he asked for, slowly it became a daily affair, and whenever he see me, he would ask me for the talisman. One day only to avoid his repeated request I assured him, “I ll talk to the warlock and get you help”. My words worked as ointment in an open wound. He gave me a betel nut and a leaf,( it is offered in respect) and Rs. 11/- as fee for the said purpose to be given to the warlock. I went to a tea stall, another person, Padmeswar Tamuli was with me, with the Rs. 11 in my pocket both of us had tea and sweets and since I don’t have the habit of chewing betel nut I offered it to my friend, he cut it with a knife and coated the leaf with lime and a hint of tobacco he chewed it and his lips were red alike applying lipstick.

After eating up the money and the betel nut my thought started haunting me with a feeling of guilt.

Finally an idea strike my brain I took a yarn, but I got only a white one, since I did not have red thread, I painted the thread with the red ink from my pen and tried all the calligraphic skill in a piece of white paper very carefully made curves and dots alike Arabic letters and folded it to the possible smallest and wrapped it carefully in a piece of newspaper.
Next, day I paddled to garden, the dhoti wearing old man’s eyes relieved seeing me, he was waiting for me, I smiled and assured him that his problem will sort out from now onwards, and offered him the wrapped small thing and spoke him silently to put the calligraphic bit of piece to put in a empty case of metal talisman and tie it in the red thread given along and later tie it in his waist chanting God’s name and no one should see it, I mentioned the last words in the fear of being caught of my scribbles which makes no sense.

Days passed and then a month, the machines were functioning in full swing, everywhere the aroma filled of freshly processed Assam Tea. I nearly forgot of my skill to give Talisman as remedy. I was in a hurry, to reach home before the dusk falls. While crossing the Bordeauta’s shop, he signalled with his hand and cried, ”Wait! Wait!”. I stopped and the rattling cycle too, “Mon, thank you for the talisman, it is working, their elder son died and since then their trouble has also lessen”


After few days, he stopped me again, “Mon, you have really gave me a very good thing, their second son has got job in a company and he has shifted to a new place”


Again after a week,” their third son has diagnosed with some serious illness and nowadays hardly he comes out of his house”


After six months, “Their fourth son has married a girl from Rongdoi Village, the only daughter of her parents and now he has started staying in Rongdoi”


I continued paddle years after years, Sometime I buy in his shop and continued exchange of smiles and sometimes conversation, he was always grateful for the talisman, one day I learnt that he died and the shop run by his son, one day his son in a thankful note mentioned, “Deauta (Father), once mentioned me that you brought him a talisman from a warlock, the magic worked and he was freed from all the disturbance, he wore that till his last breathe”. I still wonder, was it a coincident or a faith?”


My phone rang, an emergency call from office, I excused my uncle and left. It is true sometimes strong faith works as miracle.

My Craze for the idiot box

My craze

My Craze for the Idiot box

My golden childhood, I remember cherishing memories of watching televison with my sister, Geeti. But, since, the day I am into Police Department hardly I had an opportunity to sit in front of the screen. During the initial first year of my training getting to see even a set was like a heaven. Then, few of us shifted to Udalguri for the entire period, we SI Mitali Borah, SI Biraj Mohan Deka and SI Satish Sahoo stayed there without this so called idiot box. Then comes Guwahati a small but comfy zone, a rental den shared with SI Arpana Boruah at Kahilipara,I learnt the accent from the locals and alike stressed the word KAA-HILL-LEE-PARA, TV was missing for sure but we really had some good fun together, shared some rib tickling moments and some memorable adventure with our computer Bhaskar, the brave soul Martyr SI Bhaskar Kalita.

An order of transfer brought tears in my eyes one for leaving my friends behind and the other for not releasing earliest to Golaghat DEF nearing my home district Jorhat. Sub Inspector (Probationary) was my rank yet my parents would treat me as a kid, they took me to Golaghat Reserve for joining as a kid for school admission, however I relish those memories though. Moving to reserve quarter at Bogorijeng, my experience was a bit freaky, having a television set was far apart but at that moment my guts did not landed my heart for staying alone. Though my friend SI Mussadik Hussain ( M Hussain ) was in my opposite quarter, but his unhooked door responding to every blow of wind enhanced my fear….Keereeek…Keereeek 😨

Finally an order posting as attached officer at Golaghat Police Station gave me a new address, Golaghat Police Station, Old Building, Quater no. 6, with some wonderful neighbours and a playmate Bumoni residing to a adjacent quarter of our building. Slowly I started realising the life of a Police. Mudddy! Sleepless! Foodless!, stocking the food was Maa’s affair , sometime I lack her skill and when back from duty at 3.00 AM and open the kitchen door I realise that I did not buy anything and at that hour I cannot turn to my second kitchen “Lucious Kitchen”. Experience taught me and I started stocking rice, dals, pulses, potatoes and onions.

One fine day I expressed my desire for watching TV to one of my senior the then TSI, SI Ranjit Chetia, who was more a elder brother, he took me to Satabdi a shop for electronic goods. I bought a small LG portable TV for exchange of Rs. 5000/- and a Tata Sky connection. First few days I really enjoyed watching TV, but the never ending pending list of case diaries made me feel like committing sin for sitting in front of the TV for the least half an hour. Slowly the recharging got delayed and finally it became a dusty box in the corner.

My small portable TV

Of late, the election transfer 2019 landed me in Recruit Training School, Dergaon as a Law Instructor, a scheduled duty and this time I started knowing more about myself, by God grace a proud mother of a little boy, the dusty box has shed its dust, flashing bright and loud, my leisure in abundance and craze for the Idiot box beam, out of three sets of television in the house queuing for my chance, the remote firm in my little man’s fist and now, finally I ended up liking “CHINGCHANG” and “DOREMON”

The Tamarind Juice

The cutest SI Lalthanzautie Betlu my Mizo roommate (We shared the same room in PTC )and we refer her as Betlu, during our stay she introduced me to various Mizo cuisines, her typical chicken curry , I tried several times later but could not bring that taste and her white bottle of pork fats which she adds to every curry or salads, she often offers me some green leafy veggies stew without salt and if she offers me at night I refuse her each time saying this may upset my stomach leading to formation of gas and each time she laugh saying ours is Assamese stomach and hence forms gas after having veggies.

Whether its drill ground or the firing range every time Betlu will reach with a bottle of tamarind juice, the moment she takes out her bottle my cheek gets squeezed, the saliva finds its way and a big swallow but luckily she gives me a sip. SI Arpana Baruah next in the row for the tamarind juice. Many a time while cross country race I find Arpana picking tamarind under tamarind trees and later chased by the Guruji (drill instructor).

During my stay with Arpana at Kahilipara, Guwahati one day while crossing Ganesh guri market we bought a ball of tamarind, next day while lunch break we hurriedly headed to our room for lunch, usually we prepare lunch in the morning itself, me the designated cook. We had our share to be followed by the tamarind juice inspired by Betlu. Arpana was busy arguing with someone over phone, I took out more than half of the tamarind in a mug, added salt and sugar did all kind of mixing and tasted a spoon…..aaaahh! shared the drink into two glasses and offered one to Arpana, but this poor soul busy fighting over phone with a big bang on the table replied me she won’t drink any juice. I too straight way went to the kitchen and poured the entire juice into the sink, hurriedly she followed me and pleaded for the drink and I showed her the last trail of brown liquid slowly seeing off through the hole, apology in her eyes pleaded me to make again but this time I was the boss and refused to make any, this time she took out rest of the tamarind and followed the process and we both of us with great satisfaction had full glass concluding with a smile and left for office.

We both of us reached Reserve Office we exchanged few words with the officials, after half an hour I hold her wrist tight and she shook her hands and loosen mine, I told her that, “I have to say her something urgently!” and she replied, “I don’t have time to listen anything !”. I conveyed her my nature’s ringing of emergency bell and she said with her frowned eyebrows.. even mine! we rushed to the toilet in the backyard of our office, since we were new in that place, we had no much idea of the area, I got a gallon with it lid cut, took water from a water tank, relief, only after a minute or two I could realise the banging of the door shouting Ullah! Ullah! (come out). Arpana nearly pushed me out and got in for her session. After a mintute or two she came out and both of us promised not to drink the juice with lots of tamarind in it, however a lighter is okay.