Testimony of Smt. Thokchom (O) Ahanbi Devi
I, Smt. Thokchom (O) Ahanbi Devi, W/O (L) Sh Th. Gulabi, R/O Dhobi Machu Leirak, Sega Road, P.O. Imphal, P.S. Lamphel ,Imphal West District- 795001, Manipur would like to account the day that took the toll of ever graving grief of my life leaving me and my family from content to a haunting one for the rest of my old age.
I lived a happy life with my two young and healthy precious sons, husband and in-laws. By profession, I am a traditional singer, I have even released albums of my song. My sons, Th. Suraj the elder and Mocha the younger one, 31 years old,till he died I have never called him by his name. I always have addressed him as Momocha. Both of them were the pupil of my eyes who after being barren of motherhood for a long time and much prayer God has bestowed them to me. My husband was working on master roll and the elder son was teaching at Brighter Academy at Nambol. I was often left with Momocha at home. My sons would not leave me alone, they were not just brothers but also very good friends, both of them would sit in kitchen and sing songs, play tabla, guitar, they have gifted talents either it is singing or playing musical instruments and especially Momocha he was a good athlete too. Both of them had no bad habits either. He used to play Sepaktakru, he started this game in our local club and taught to many youngsters. We even discussed with him to play this game through Nagaland since scope and finance seems more appealing there. Though we were not financially sound we lived a contented life. I would discuss family’s wear and tear or anything with him as his father was away and elder son being little weak, he was always there and used to say that he would let his mother live a happy life. His role doesn’t limit in the hearth of home but he extended to the club too and was the secretary of our local club and always took active role in club activities.
On 12th March 2008, the Dholl Jatra day, my sons were having chicken curry of previous night, when I heard him getting a call on his mobile which I bought for him. He, halfway left eating the food and asked me to keep it covered as he would eat once he is back. I asked him if he needs money but he didn’t take as he had some two hundred Rupees which I have given him earlier and he went out on his bicycle wearing his house slippers. And he never came back to finish the food he had left but only the news of his death.
We heard that he died on an encounter at Lamdeng with Imphal West Police Commandoes, a fake encounter. Eye witnesses but anonymous to surface, informed us they saw the Police Commandos in civil dress taking my Momocha from the street next to our locality leaving his bicycle and taking him in their gypsy. The moment I heard my son died I don’t know what happen to me they say I lost control of myself and started running around, unconscious of what I was doing or clothes falling off, next I found myself bed ridden.
How would I ever believe that my innocent son who was just having food at home in front of my eyes, gets a call and he just goes out of house in casual attire would go for an encounter, that too in a bicycle and a house slipper- he is being alleged of acquiring weapons and ammunitions at the time he was killed in the encounter. The grief of losing my son and the charges on him I cannot tolerate and wanted to die, I wish this grief to be felt by the perpetrators too. If my son though I will never believe, for a moment accept that he is guilty, was it necessary that he would be killed? Couldn’t he be held to account the charges to even? My heart cries to take revenge”.
His death took toll of deaths in my family, within days of his death on his shorat or Shradha, a death ceremony done on 12th day after death, my father in-law passed away, then my husband expired in the month of August, thereafter my mother in-law also passed away in the month of November. I along with my elder son had to face rows of death in our family in one year, leaving my full happy family impaired of the word happiness for ever. The perpetrators had not killed just my son but four lives in our family.
My elder son quit his teaching job, he is married now and stays with me. Though Momocha expired I still hold him close to my heart every day for his protection. Singing was my heart, my source of earning but I could not sing any longer after my son’s death neither I want to dress up for any occasion. He was the one who would be running around for my albums. With much courage and constant encouragement from friends and relatives, I am trying hard to sing again and find salvation here.
The so called eye witnesses are too scared to come to surface and go through the trials. The commando’s who killed my son are not traceable and not known till now. The SDPO of Police Ms. Pushpanjali came to share my grief, however, what relieve her visit would bring. We received Rs. One lakh as ex-gratia and to appoint the nearest kin for a job was promised. Till now there is no news about the promise for employment.
On the account of his death, JAC was formed, dharna was staged in our locality. I went to meet the Chief Minister Mr. Ibobi, however he was helpless. The eye witnesses refused to give their evidence of having seen my son while arrested by the Commando in civil dress. I wish to outcry for revenge though I would not get my son back neither want any mother to go through such turmoil. I often see my son in my dreams and he seems unhappy and shows three fingers. I believed he intends three people had killed him. Until the culprits are punished, the brunt of my heart and my soul shall never be silent how much ever I try to find salvage.
We do not own BPL card and are not availing any poverty schemes fro the Central/State Government.
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