Yeh Kya Samvidhan Bachayenge!

There are serious questions staring the nation in the face, but we are busy debating “Batenge to Katenge” and “Samvidhan Bachao”. These alarming slogans, and the manufactured narratives surrounding them, are designed to divert public attention from real issues that point to a larger malaise: the utter failure of the law enforcement system. I don’t have all the solutions, but I do have one. Just one.
Consider the ridiculously low conviction rates in ED and CBI cases: 40 out of over 5,000. Nobody expects them to become the FBI overnight, but people do expect the minimum—a modicum of efficiency in gathering quality evidence as they go about their work.
The moot question is: Is it because of the selective nature of the cases they take up? Are they set up for failure because important, solvable cases are not assigned to them? This column will explore one such case, but first, we must address the broader issues.
Things might improve if the central agencies acted impartially, without political interference. Right now, they wait for the green light on who to prosecute and what to investigate, pandering to the whims of the powers that be.
As a result, they end up with only the tough nuts to crack and, ultimately, the proverbial egg on their faces. They leave the easier cases to the nondescript provincial apparatus, who are content to take their sweet time with detection.
Can the lords and saviours of the nation protect the Constitution if these saviours can’t even save our savouries? The beloved samosa. Not your regular 10-rupee-a-piece samosa, but the samosas of the state—ordered from a five-star hotel, paid for with taxpayer money. If the samosas of the state aren’t safe, how safe are the samosas of the average citizen? Rather, how safe is anything for the average citizen?
According to reliable reports, the state CID is investigating the case of the missing samosas in the hill state of Himachal Pradesh, but do they have the capability or the forensic tools to crack it? The case, not the samosas.
The CID headquarters is the crime scene and the CID is investigating the case. Ah, the irony!
The samosas vanished at the CID headquarters when Chief Minister Sukhvinder Singh Sukhu was at the CID headquarters to inaugurate the cyber wing’s new Citizen Financial Cyber Fraud Reporting and Management System. The samosas were meant for him. In the blink of an eye, they were not there. CM Sukhu doesn’t eat samosas since doctors ordered him not to, but he didn’t even get to see the samosas, a sight to savour for anyone on a strict diet.
The hills have eyes, plainly known as CCTVs, yet someone—or perhaps more than one person—”disappeared” the delicacies from right under the noses of the security paraphernalia. The 76 lakh citizens of Himachal Pradesh remain in the dark about the fate of the samosas.
The general populace is buzzing with rumours because the facts of the case are wilfully blurred by the bureaucracy, in an attempt to hide a shameful truth: the people entrusted with protecting the elected head of the state government failed to protect the chief minister’s samosas. Can they protect the chief minister if they can’t protect his samosas, they want to know.
Now, one must address the elephant in the room. Will the central agencies look the other way if the samosas were meant for the chief minister of a BJP-ruled state? These same agencies cry foul about the withdrawal of general amnesty by states. Here’s a case where the general amnesty is already in effect. Not a squeak from the hallowed headquarters in Delhi.
If they wanted, they could detect the missing delicacies, even if they were hidden in the diverticula of the deviants. All it takes is conviction. Here’s a case that is challenging yet ripe for a logical conclusion: the conviction of the criminals. Here’s a golden chance to take the much-maligned conviction rate one notch higher: 41 out of over 5,000.
They say justice delayed is justice denied. Investigation delayed is investigation what? Every minute is critical, as minute evidence is getting digested and destroyed. As hours pass, the case – and the samosas – are getting cold. The cold climes of the hilly state are compounding the complication. I’ll stop here. I have to check on my samosas. You can’t trust anyone these days.
(Kamlesh Singh is a former editor, columnist and satirist, who is the Tau in the popular podcast Teen Taal)