April 6, 2026
Today, justice is finally served. The verdict: ‘Sentenced to Death.’
As the news spreads, I see people celebrating with tears.
Tears have power. When they fall, they reveal the truth and help us heal.
I stand emotionless, unable to shed tears, because something in me died six years ago.
June 19, 2020, Santhakulam Police Station, Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu
7.45 pm.
I was hurriedly yanked from my stand. I knew that grip.
Another hardened criminal.
I flexed my muscles. It was going to be an exhausting night. It always was, but in the end, they always sang. Like a canary welcoming spring, they confessed to their crimes. My ways were violent because criminals understood no other language. I was proud of my ability to break them and uncover the truth.
I was always immune to sounds. Early in my career, I had learned to keep my eyes shut. It helped me focus as I got to work.
Whack! Whack! Thud! Thud!
Two?
How did I know? I understood touch. One was old, with tired muscles. The other had a stronger, younger body.
I did not differentiate. A criminal is a criminal.
I landed on them with all my strength, blow after blow.
Brutality never bothered me. I was incessant, relentless, and I was passed from hand to hand as the assault continued. An hour later, I was tired, but the hands holding me were not.
Something did not feel right.
When the blows did not stop after another hour, and the smell of flesh, blood, sweat and urine overpowered my senses, my instincts blared.
Something was definitely wrong.
“Een? Nanga enna tappu saidom?” they kept asking.
That night, for the very first time, I opened my eyes during interrogation and witnessed something I was never meant to see.
One naked man, covered in red, was crouched in a corner, and the other stood against the wall covering his modesty.
That’s when I got a good look at them. Horror-stricken with large bulging eyes. Their faces looked clean, but their bodies, in contradiction, had purple designs imprinted all over.
They held their heads low, ashamed to look at each other.
Regardless of the hopelessness of the situation, they seemed concerned for each other.
“Podum sir, Appa is diabetic. He will die, Sir,” the younger one pleaded.
“Poda naaye,” the sub-inspector retorted. “I hope you have learnt your lessons. How dare you speak against the police?”
“File an FIR. Mention that these two were violating the lockdown guidelines.”
“We will seek remand from the district court tomorrow,” the Inspector instructed as the others got to work.
He turned to the younger man, “And what will you tell the medical officer tomorrow?”
“I will tell them the truth.”
“The truth? Really?”
Then began a horrific symphony. The blows landed hard like drums, and the kicks like footballs flying into goalposts. Their wails filled every crevice of the police station, and their limbs danced in synchrony to shield the other.
”My son is getting married soon. Podum, sir. Podum.”
“Getting married, heh? Let me see how you will consummate?”
The assault became personal. Private parts were targeted. Hatred, pride, and hurt ego spiced up every blow.
“Sathtam me illai? Balamaga adingo da!”
As the skin peeled, I knew. These two were no criminals; they were ordinary men leading ordinary lives till their paths crossed these policemen.
I could no longer remain impassive. I had to stop this madness. I tried to soften the blows, but the screaming only got worse. So, I landed with a crack, almost splitting myself in two.
They threw me aside and pulled out an iron rod. The next hour was filled with blood-curdling screams; they howled, I yelped, but nothing would stop the 10 policemen who took turns to ‘teach them a lesson.’
I couldn’t shut my eyes. I couldn’t unsee. The police station had turned into two contrasting shades – crimson against the white walls, vermillion merging with squishy brown mud and streams of scarlet pooling on the grey floors.
“Your filthy blood has stained the floor. Clean it.”
The young man picked up his vest with his broken hands. He limped to the washroom and back multiple times, leaving a trail of crimson behind. The floor wouldn’t stop getting soiled.
“Sir, he has used up all the cloth; the bleeding won’t stop.”
That put an end to the assault. And a cover-up operation began.
The next morning, they were dragged out of the police station. I never saw them again.
I learned of their death and the public outcry four days later, when two sub-inspectors were suspended, and one inspector was transferred.
xxx
This incident left me limp and injured. I shuddered every time I touched someone, shivered every time I heard a loud sound and relived the horror every time I closed my eyes.
They were innocent.
I lost everything – my pride, my self-worth and my purpose. I was reduced to a piece of dead wood.
Days later, when a magistrate came seeking evidence on the orders of the Madurai bench of the Madras High Court, I found a way to redeem myself. I put myself forward as evidence. Their DNA was ingrained in me.
xxx
Today, all of them are sentenced to death, and yet I live, with the weight of the truth. Unable to shed a single tear, unable to heal.
Glossary:
Een – Why?
Nanga enna tappu saidom? – What mistake did we make?
Podum – Enough
Appa – Father
Poda Naaye – Get lost, dog!
Sathtam me illai? Balamaga adingo da! – Can’t hear any sound, hit them harder.
Author’s note:
This story is a fictional recreation of the custodial death of P.Jayaraj (59) and J. Bennix (31) in the Sathankulam Police Station, from the point of view of a lathi.
A knot in wood is called an eye. In this story, the author uses wordplay to depict an eye in a lathi that witnesses the crime.
A brief note on the actual case:
- The police first arrest Jayaraj and later his son Bennix is detained in the police station.
- They are denied access to lawyers and none of his relatives are permitted to see/visit them.
- They are assaulted all night, leading to severe internal bleeding and damage to organs, requiring them to change 6 lungis
- The police manage to get a medical fitness certificate and a remand order, since both the doctor and the magistrate did not question or talk to the victims personally.
- They were later taken to another police station 100kms away on remand.
- They both died 2 days later in a hospital where they were admitted for treatment of their internal injuries
- The then CM of Tamil Nadu announced that the deaths were due to an earlier illness.
- Public outcry, media coverage and intervention by the Madurai Bench of the Madras High court led to an investigation which was later taken over by CBI
- DNA samples, witness statements and primarily the testimony of Revathi, a police officer present in the police station led to the conviction of all the 9 police officers (one officer died during investigation due to COVID)
- The First District and Session Court in Madurai declared this case to be the ‘Rarest of the Rare’ and sentenced all the 9 policemen to death.
