When thieves finish their job at your home and disappear, what hurts is not so much the market value of the items lost as the pain of your sacred private space being violated. Those brought up in the gated communities of cities, may not be too familiar with the menace of thefts or the feeling associated with personal space being ravaged by strangers, but it’s the everyday reality for people in small towns and villages.
Here’s a personal account.
The decision to shift to the sylvan surrounds of a laidback rural district after living in the metros for long can lead you into a minefield of hazards. The mental peace you seek may exert a price – a heavy one. At some point, you start regretting the decision. Because the threat to your life and property is constant. The authorities would do little to make you feel safe and secure. You are on your own.
Dhenkanal, is your quintessential rural town, a village at heart and soul but with freshly-acquired habits and ways of modern consumerism. People are generally friendly and helpful like in primarily agricultural communities everywhere in the countryside, with individual quirks in place. They can be a bit intrusive too, but that’s never a big grouse. Well, until some become extra inquisitive about your home with not exactly the intention to know you better.
When you discover your home total mess with all the valuables gone and even your deities thrown around, you realise you live among thieves. Some people visit to take stock of your belongings and the location of your CCTV camera. Then you realise something similar had happened to someone else a week ago, to another and to another some time ago. Cases of thefts come up in everyday discussions with locals, each time the location is different as is the victim. Just to inform the readers, this is the district headquarters town, not any remote village.
The gravity of it dawns upon you when you are the victim. The sight of the house in utter disarray and the empty spaces where the television set, air-conditioner and refrigerator once remained gives you that unexplainable feeling of sadness and loss. As you look at the torn mattresses and pillows – someone was expecting gold or cash concealed there – you realise these are things very dear to you, an extension of yourself. The sense of hurt sets in. It’s more personal, more intense, and it lingers in the heart.
The police arrive to take stock. As formalities follow the wisdom of hindsight flows. ‘You should not have built a house at an isolated place like this. It makes you a sitting duck”; ‘You should have installed a secret camera in case the first one was stolen’, ‘You should have replaced the watchman long ago’ – it goes on. Also, the speculation from onlookers gets a free run. ‘It must be the local criminals’, ”The watchman is involved ‘, ‘They have done a recce before striking’ – all, of course, pointless. They do nothing to soothe you.
Then you ask the policemen what steps have been taken to stop thieves from working with impunity. Such cases happen almost on a daily basis, people lose property and peace. How many criminals have been caught and how many people have been handed over their goods? What steps has the district administration taken to stop or at least minimise such incidents? The answers they blurt out are unconvincing. If at all something was done thieves won’t be operating with such confidence.
Statistics don’t matter. There would be numbers, but they would be only of reported cases, and the figures for arrests and eventual conviction wouldn’t tell you much. The recurrence of such incidents is good enough proof that no action has been taken. And the seriousness of doing anything has been absent.
From the conversation with them you know they are seriously short-staffed. The forensic team covers three districts. With one vehicle available, it’s not easy to reach out to all areas. Wouldn’t CCTV surveillance of key locations be a good deterrent against criminals of all kinds and ? You ask. ‘Yes. They accept, ‘but…’
In the ‘but’ lies an entire story of callousness towards the safety of the life and property of residents of Dhenkanal. The policemen hint that having CCTV cameras is beyond them. The decision has to be made elsewhere. It’s not being made. A few lakh rupees is all it takes to install them. This could be the story of such low profile towns across India.
There have been suggestions not to live there till people start settling close-by. Cannot digest it. Leave the place because of thieves? In a civilised society, normal citizens should feel secure and protected. They are not supposed to keep running away from criminals. Are they?
Is someone listening?
