Social Short Story – The Showdown
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Shivanandan instigated them. Velayudhan supplied the weapons. Nandkumar, the money. That is how they got a large gang to follow them. Through money and alcohol and fanatic speeches. When the police came to evict them they were ready with country made guns, swords, and grenades. The police were taken by surprise. They had came only to evict the encroachers. At best the constables had some loudspeakers, and some standard issue pistols. They were not expecting to face a well-armed militia. So when the firing started they were shocked.
The police team was led by an inspector, and that too an inexperienced one. When the situation began escalating violently he quickly phoned up police headquarters and asked for backup. An ACP arrived with a few constables to take charge. But he was not able to handle the situation either. He called his senior DCP, who when he came also found himself shortchanged. And so it was the local DIG who had to come and oversee operations. They also needed more manpower. Ordinary police constables with their standard issue rifles were not enough. So by the time the clock struck one, there were five battalions of the local police and the Central Reserve Police Force with automatic machine guns engaged in a standoff with the well armed hooligans.
The DIG thought back to a time when he had warned the district administration about encroachers. He had written letters to Gopalan in the Chief Minister’s office and Malhotra in the District Administration and Naidu in the Home Ministry. But nobody listened. They didn’t even reply back. He talked to them about it during official functions, during staff meetings, during departmental updates. And they still did not listen. He told them over and over again: unemployment is rising, poverty is increasing, villages are suffering from drought and famine, the poor are under the throes of crushing debt. You have to do something. We are sitting on a volcano. It will explode one day. He told them over and over again, and nobody listened.
Then one day Shivanandan walked into town. With his intimidating personality. With his rabble rousing speeches. With his bizarre solutions for problems that were not getting solved. He was an instant hit. Villagers swarmed in droves to listen to him. They came on tractors, on foot, on bicycles, on motorbikes. Just to listen to him speak. Just to get a glimpse of his personality. Just to understand his vision. But soon they were all converted. They became his devotees, his followers, and in some time his warriors. It was only a matter of time before Shivanandan had his own gang, which became his own sect, which became a private army. An army that was ready to take on the administration, the police, civil society and even the very country they were living in.
The DIG warned them again: the District Administration, the Chief Minister’s Office, the Home Ministry. These sects are dangerous. They have to be disbanded, and disarmed. But nobody listened. The politicians wanted votes. The administrators wanted their bribes. The sects grew and grew. Shivanandan and his cronies became more and more powerful. They added to their ranks. Where speeches did not work, alcohol did. Where speeches and alcohol did not work, money did. Soon they were running a parallel judicial system. Shivanandan was judge, jury and executioner. Private jails were built. Private laws were written. Schools were built, not for teaching maths and science, but inculcating children in sect ideology, and training them in the use of arms.
When Shivanandan met Velayudhan, it should have sent alarm bells ringing in law enforcement circles. Shivanandan, the rable rousing fanatic, and Velayudhan, a known arms dealer. But the bells did not go off. When these two met disgraced banker and known money launderer, Nandkumar, more alarm bells should have started ringing. But the bells still stayed silent.
Velayudhan brought with him access to alcohol and violence. Nandkumar brought with him the promise of money. They induced anti-social elements to join the sect. Elements who had no ideology. Elements who were not here for Shivanandan’s speeches. Elements who came only to have a quick drink, make some quick money, and fire a few guns.
Through the threat of force the sect began occupying land in prime areas of the city. Rich builders were threatened. Prosperous merchants saw their businesses dwindling. Politicians saw their clout diminishing. Only then did the alarm bells start ringing in official circles. It was only then that the order was finally given to the police force to go to Subhashpura where the sect had their headquarters and clear them out. Initially the police only sent an inspector and a few constables for the job. But now five hours later the DIG was staring at a full-fledged battle between police units and CRPF battalions on one side, and the sect on the other.
The bullets came flying over their heads, thick and fast. Grenades were lobbed at them from time to time. The bullets weren’t fired in panic or haste, the DIG noted, no sir. The grenades also weren’t thrown in a reckless way. The sect was well equipped with some skilled marksmen and their grenade throwers were equally lethal. They must have spent quite a bit of time training. A bullet came dangerously close to where the DIG was taking cover. He would have to shift places otherwise he risked being shot. Ducking down low he made his way behind the jeeps to where the CRPF battalion commander was coordinating his troops.
“Well commander, what do you think?” he shouted over the din of gunfire.
“Five more minutes. The armored vehicles will be here. Then we storm this place” the commander shouted back.
“They are good, aren’t they. Well equipped, well trained, highly motivated”
“Fanatics, that’s what they are. There are enough nutcases in the world. Give them money, give them liquor, give them some crazy reason, and they will sell their souls to the devil. It’s not rocket science firing a gun. You just need bullets, a lot of bullets, and a target. This nutcase Shivanandan has given them both.”
“Lord knows how many more groups there are like this around the country.”
“I guess we will just have to find all of them and destroy them, one by one.”
“That will be a hard task. So much apathy among our bosses. So much financing that these groups receive. So much firepower that they have. Easy to say, destroy them, but hard to do. I was thinking…..”
“Shh. Hear that. The sound of heavy engines. It’s the armored vehicles. They are here. It’s time for the final assault. Let’s get ready, sir.”
There were three of them. Black colored monsters covered with powerful armor that could stop a raging bull in its tracks or worse. Their gun turrets were open with nasty looking barrels pointing out of them. Like wild animals charging at their prey they came thundering down the road at great speed. Using the armored vehicles as cover the police units intensified their firing while the CRPF battalions leapt out of their positions. They charged at the encroachers.
There were explosions. There was blood. Then there were more explosions. And there was more blood. There was shouting and cursing in anger. There was screaming and crying in pain. Guns were fired by children. Guns were fired by grown men. Guns were fired by women. The fanatics among them wanted to kill and die fighting. The moderates among them laid down their weapons in the hope of living with an honorable surrender.
For nearly five hours both sides had been deadlocked in a stalemate. Now as though in relief they were unleashing violence upon each other. The brutality lasted for an hour. Then it slowly began winding down. The dead could not fire any more bullets, and the living did not want to. One by one sect members began coming forward, laying down their weapons and offering their surrender. Some were men, some were women, and some were even children. Shivanandan was identified among the dead, as were his fellow conspirators Velayudhan and Nandkumar. The sight of smoke and the smell of gunpowder was a painful scene for the large crowd that had gathered around Subhashpura.
The CRPF commander and the DIG stood side by side surveying the damage. They were silent for a long time before the commander finally spoke.
“Well sir, it is finally over.”
“No, it’s not. It’s over only in Subhashpura. But there are a thousand volcanoes like this all across this land waiting to explode. We have our eyes closed. We need to open them. There are Shivanandans and Nandkumars everywhere. They need to be stopped. There are people living in despair everywhere. People who are poor and uneducated, who are gullible and desperate, who need to be given hope and help. No commander. This is not the end. This is a warning. A warning which all of us need to heed. If we continue keeping our eyes closed, you and I will be firing more guns and waging more battles somewhere else.”
–END–
