In November 2013, when the special Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) court convicted Rajesh and Nupur Talwar for the murder of their daughter Aarushi and servant Hemraj, many thought the case had finally reached its logical conclusion. But the ghost of Aarushi kept resurrecting itself time and again, with author Avirook Sen now claiming that the Talwars were victims rather than the perpetrators of the crime.
The basic premise of the book is obvious: that the probe conducted first by the Uttar Pradesh Police and later the CBI was shoddy and unprofessional in nature. That the investigative agencies made too many U-turns to be taken seriously. That there will always be a scope of disagreement on the identity of who the real culprit was.
Sen, however, adds some new twists to the already twisted story — some vaguely known, some absolutely revelatory. One gem of a revelation is how judge Shyam Lal was busy writing the judgement weeks before the final argument could end. And that he was taking the help of his son in writing the verdict. The son tells the author how it would take the judge ten minutes to write a page of the judgement, but “the situation was different in the Aarushi case... we had to use some good words in the judgement... we have to go through the page again and again, so there’s no mistake”.
The author’s credential as a foremost journalist is evident when he explains tongue-in-cheek how Lal was well aware of the fact that with the Aarushi case, he was writing himself into history! With a journalistic tinge of humour, he reproduces terms like "fiendish", "flagitious" and "peignoir" used liberally throughout the verdict. And how the judge never uses the term penis, instead preferring to go for its synonym!
Aarushi; by Avirook Sen; Penguin; Rs 299. |
Aarushi is an absolute page-turner, engrossing till the last line. But at the same time it’s depressing to see Aarushi’s family being targeted by one and all, and the 14-year-old girl being given all sorts of names and motives, despite the fact that she exists no more to defend herself. But what disheartens one the most is the mirage of the alternate reality this book creates. When the book is finished and the spell is broken, the realisation gains ground that the fact remains unaltered. That there exists another side of the story, but its veracity remains questionable.
Of course, the book reveals that the judge started writing the verdict even before the defence could finish his argument. But this doesn’t prove any denial of justice to the Talwars. In fact, it’s a normal practice among judges to make notes while court proceedings are on. Even if one concedes that Lal was actually writing the verdict, and not just making notes, as Sen emphasises in a few interviews later, several lawyers have confided to this reviewer that in high-profile cases, judges often start working on their verdict well in advance. It’s also being said in Lal’s defence that most judges can sense the direction of a case much before it is over. So, Lal can be charged with flouting the rules in his excitement to be in the big league just before his retirement, but that doesn’t prove any travesty of justice for the Talwars!
The book comes across as a simplistic evil-vs-good battle with the Talwars fighting all odds against the scheming CBI officers, particularly AGL Kaul, who took upon himself to get the couple behind bars. This black-and-white depiction makes for a seamless read, but its seemingly one-sided approach becomes jarring at times. One wonders why would Kaul manipulate so desperately to get witnesses on board, so much so that he would even take to forgery. Even more pertinent is the question: why would the CBI, the court, the Uttar Pradesh Police, everyone the Talwars came in contact with, connive against them? And against whom — the three non-entities who would easily have been implicated by authorities to come out of the mess? The alleged perception of the Talwars being seen as the elite, thus provoking a class reaction from the authorities to take them to task, doesn’t hold water.
The biggest drawback of the book, however, is the fact that the author couldn’t meet Krishna, Rajkumar and Vijay Mandal — one of who he hints must be the killer of Aarushi and Hemraj. In fact, in one of the interviews with a national daily, Sen didn’t mind calling one of them a "killer", which wasn’t fair to the three. Like the Talwars, they too needed to be heard before being pronounced guilty.
Sen should have explained how the crime, which appeared to be committed with so much of planning, finesse and skill, be done by the domestic helps. Why would they kill Hemraj at the terrace and bother to lock the gates? How could they have wine after committing such a dastardly act, when a normal killer would have just wanted to run away?
The author, however, should be applauded for his courage to go against the grain. With this book, in which he lists a few glaring mistakes on the part of the investigative agencies and the judiciary — foremost being the court basing its verdict on the CBI’s first claim of recovering Hemraj’s pillow in Aarushi’s room, which it quietly retracted later — he has made a pitch for the higher court to look into the case and take corrective measures, if any.
The book raises a few pertinent questions over the Aarushi saga. One wishes it had provided some convincing answers as well.