Excited about my first substantive jurisdictional charge after 36 months of institutional and field training, my wife and I made our way to Koderma (now a district in Jharkhand) in an aged but perfectly functioning Baby Hindustan, a re-badged Morris Minor, in the mid-1970s. Briefings by my boss, my indolent predecessor and colleagues seemed to suggest that I would have an easy time since crime incidence was low. Also, protests and other disturbances of public order were rare. The urban population of about 60,000 people in two foci — Koderma and the twin towns of Jhumri Tilaiya — and rural population of about 2,40,000 in the 1,500 square kilometre area, engaged essentially in single-crop agriculture and mining of mica and processing it for export, appeared quite contented.
My sense of complacency was soon ruptured as dacoities and robberies began to take place with disturbing frequency on highways passing through my jurisdiction — the Grand Trunk Road and the Patna-Ranchi highway. After fumbling for months, decoy operations were attempted and those yielded good results. The highways became secure again, much to the delight of truckers operating on them — their frustrations with the police gave way to appreciation. And, expectedly, a rapport developed. That most of the truck drivers were from northern Indian states, including many from Punjab, helped — they had found a kinsman in uniform who had delivered them from a long persisting distressful situation.
In the resultant denouement, truckers began to freely share their concerns. One related to the stealthy removal of cartons of goodies from loaded trucks as they painfully slowly negotiated a thickly-wooded ascending stretch of the GT Road near the eastern bounds of my remit. An enterprising colleague suggested that we co-opt a couple of truck drivers transporting biscuits and such goods (favoured by the thieves) — some of the consignment towards the rear of the truck would be offloaded, and the tarpaulin put back after two-three agile policemen in uniform had been inserted into the 'cavity' so created. A couple of weeks later, as the thieves struck one of such trucks and three-four cartons had been pulled off onto the road, the policemen emerged and were able to apprehend two of the miscreants. Follow-up arrests of all the gang members resulted in termination of this criminal enterprise.
As tales about successful police operations against criminals began to populate truckers' lore, some drivers reached out to pass on information in confidence. Much of it was about exactions at state police boundaries by taxation officials and by policemen deployed along the highways. The latter being of much concern, it was decided to set up deception plans in terms of exhibiting keen interest in wildlife abundant at that time in the rolling hills of what is now northern Jharkhand. Frequent nightly forays into deep jungles were made, towards suggesting to subordinates that senior police levels would not conduct highway patrols, as was the practice when highway crime was rampant.
Midway through a cold winter night, a circuitous route was adopted through the jungle to get on to the GT Road at an obscure unpopulated point. The first truck was stopped and we boarded it. We had not even driven a couple of miles before we saw an oncoming truck driver signal with a vigorous wave of his hand to the driver of our truck, who immediately slowed down. On our insistence, he hesitatingly revealed that the oncoming driver had warned about a police naka at the next highway junction. It took much persuasion to make the driver carry us towards the naka. There was a long line of trucks on the road. And, lo and behold, we saw my Inspector in full regalia seated at a desk being assisted by two policemen in collecting Rs10 from each truck. The portly Inspector and one of his assistants were quickly overpowered and divested of their 'loot'; law guided the disciplinary and criminal proceedings that ensued and much publicity followed.
On another night, we stopped a truck on the highway to enquire about road conditions. Noticing that we had alighted from a police jeep, and unmindful of who it might be, the driver thrust his driving licence with a Rs10 note neatly folded therein. That a police Inspector had been 'nabbed in the act' only a couple of weeks earlier was obviously not sufficient to convince him that extortion by police had stopped, at least in that jurisdiction.
One evening, an elderly Sikh driver reported at my office that a dhaba run by a retired truck driver was providing forged road permits. A night raid ensued. Despite looking into every nook and cranny, nothing was found. It was then that a disgruntled employee sidled up and disclosed that the dhaba owner's wife had slipped all the forms and rubber stamps into her pyjamas. There being no policewomen in my jurisdiction, a lady resident of the nearby village had to be cajoled to assist and the consequent search resulted in seizure of the incriminating material. Dismantling of this facility for forged documents did cause resentment among notorious drivers.
But, overall, we had a lot of happy campers among truck drivers. Contented with their lot, satisfied with their modest earnings, inured to a life full of movement, unperturbed by the challenges thrown up from time to time, these happy campers support the economy of the country.
from The Tribune https://ift.tt/3aVmMmL
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