As the cold breeze of October swept over Delhi mixed with the buzzing excitement of Dussehra, the city woke up to the vibrant lamps on the gates of people’s homes. The festive air touched the humans, reminding them of the happiness it carries.
As the sun rose above the horizon, spreading its rays across the sky, giving it a tinge of orange, I began my journey to Saharanpur in the early hours of the day.
Saharanpur is approximately 160 km from my door, so I chose to travel via car to reach my destination. The rays of the sun were peering through the clouds, falling on my car’s window, providing warmth to my heart. I closed my eyes to feel the sunbeam, but out of the blue, a thought struck my mind that reminded me of the purpose of my journey. I was on a journey to meet a heartbroken mother who lost her beloved son Saddam Qureshi (23) nearly four months ago.
Saddam Qureshi (23) along with his two companions was traveling via private truck loaded with buffaloes when he encountered mob lynching. The mob persuaded the trio for approximately 54 km, assaulted them, killed two of Saddam’s companions on the spot, and gravely injured Saddam. Twenty-three-year-old Saddam eventually succumbed to his injuries a few days after the incident on June 18 earlier this year.
I right away opened my eyes, and in an instant, everything changed; the sky seemed sombre, the fresh pink and white bougainvillaea on the road seemed withering, and the Dussehra lights seemed unexciting.
On my way, I encountered a gleeful bunch of people beating drums, catching the attention of passersby. “Oh, the beat is so loud,” I heard one of the passersby saying. Was he talking about my heartbeat? A thought came to my mind that, to me, the beat of my heart was louder than the beat of drums.
After a while, I reached Lakhnautii, Saharanpur, on the threshold of Saddam’s house. The house was nestled between a buffalo stable and the narrow lanes Outside the house, two healthy buffaloes were standing, and with them, Saddam’s father was sitting.
I learned from him that these buffaloes were given to Saddam’s family by an NGO named Miles2Smile that works for relief and rehabilitation for people. The buffaloes were given to them to facilitate their dairy business and get a decent monthly income. On entering their house, I saw Saddam’s mother, dressed in a plain sky blue suit with a white cotton fabric dupatta over her head. She took me to her beautiful room and made me sit on a comfortable sofa. “How are you?” I asked, and the beauty of the room changed in the blink of an eye.
Saddam’s mother howled and said, “My Saddam didn’t die a natural death; if he had, I would have found peace. But I feel no peace.”
“What do I do without him?” she added without expression. An eerie silence occupied a space in the room for a while, making my heart run faster and faster.
After a while, Saddam’s mother cried and said, “I was saying he is sleeping; he is not dead, but he wasn’t sleeping; he was dead.”
“He died thirsty; they didn’t even give him water,” she added.
A few days before Saddam’s death, a video of him made the rounds on the internet, where he reportedly narrated the horrific ordeal of his mob lynching. Meanwhile, his family watched the visuals and got cognizance of the heinous crime. Referring to the video, Saddam’s mother said the above sentence.
On further conversation, she revealed that she has been unwell since Saddam’s death. Her heart aches, and her body trembles. She struggles to eat and sleep properly.
“My heart is filled with pain all the time. I can’t sleep at night, and I don’t feel hungry,” she said.
“There was no mercy in the hearts of the oppressors; they took my Saddam’s life without thinking twice,” she added.
Referring to the chargesheet that stated the deceased jumped from a bridge in fear, asserting that the accused did not physically assault Saddam and his companions, Saddam’s mother said, “I did not receive justice.”
The Chargesheet
A month after the mob lynching incident, the police have stated in their chargesheet that the deceased jumped from a bridge in fear, asserting that the accused did not physically assault them. Filed on July 8, the charge sheet indicates that the victims were pursued by three cars for a distance of at least 54 kilometers before they jumped.
Meanwhile, the lawyer representing the deceased claimed that the chargesheet is totally misleading and they will approach the court and demand that a First Information Report (FIR) should be registered under sections of murder as the deceased were mercilessly beaten for hours before they were thrown from the bridge.
The lawyer of the accused, Brajesh Pandey, claimed that his client was innocent, and it was an accident. “It was an accident, nothing more than that. My clients are innocent,” said Pandey.
Meanwhile, Raipur police lodged an FIR lodged against the accused under sections 307 (punishment for attempt to murder) and 304 (culpable homicide not amounting to murder) of the Indian Penal Code.
However, after Saddam succumbed to his injuries in the hospital on June 18, police stated that the postmortem report did not indicate any assault injuries, leading them to drop the attempted murder charges.
As per the police charge sheet, the five accused arrested in the case were Harsh Mishra, Mayank Sharma, Raja Agarwal, Navin Thakur, and Tanay Luniya.
“The accused got the information that a truck with registration number CG 07 CG 3929 was possibly transporting animals illegally. The accused gathered near the Jhalap toll plaza (Mahasamund district) to intercept the vehicle, and when they were moving towards Tumgaon, they spotted the truck. The accused, traveling in three cars—a Swift Dzire with registration number CG 24 M 6433, a Honda City with registration number CG 04 HM 2111, and a BMW—began to chase the truck. The truck driver continued driving with the accused in pursuit, putting pressure on the driver to either stop the truck or speed up. The accused threw spikes and stones at the truck’s windshield in an attempt to stop it. Despite these efforts, the truck did not stop and instead crossed the divider near Kampa and started driving on the wrong side of the road,” the chargesheet said.
In an effort to evade the attackers, the truck driver drove on the wrong side of the road for approximately 14 kilometers, while the assailants pursued him, attempting to stop the truck by throwing spikes and stones.
“This caused one of the truck’s tires to become completely damaged, reducing it to the rim, and then stopped at Mahanadi Bridge, where three individuals in the truck jumped into the river to save their lives,” police said in the chargesheet.
“The actions of the accused, knowing the potentially fatal consequences, fall under the criminal act mentioned in Section 304 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC). After investigation, a charge sheet numbered 385/2024 was prepared against the accused for committing the offense under sections 304 and 34 of the IPC,” the chargesheet said.
Saddam’s mother further revealed how she was oblivious to his son’s death and thought he would come back home safely, but, to her shock, he came wrapped in a white shroud.
“When I came downstairs, I saw many people. I asked what happened, and they said Saddam is coming home; he will see you, and then we will take him for treatment.” She said while her right hand was continuously shaking.
Saddam’s mother paused a little and drank water—maybe to balance the anxiety she was suffering? I thought.
“But they took him; they took him away forever,” she said after a while and broke into tears.
I consoled her, but I knew my words would provide temporary respite, not permanent peace.
After a long, deep, and emotional conversation, I bid farewell to her and left. But did she leave me? Probably not; maybe in person we departed, but her pain left an indelible mark upon my mind.
On my way back to my home, a spate of thoughts kept emerging in my mind—how many mothers are suffering because of religiously motivated lynching? How many mothers have lost their innocent sons to hate crime? How many people have been sliced down because of their identity? And how was the world silent? Are we even humans, or has humanity also been shrouded?
