 | « Back to article | Print this article |
'Justice may or may not happen, but who are those people who did this to her?'
'If the hospital authorities had helped us that day, or the police, then the real culprits would have been caught.'
'Getting justice for my daughter is my goal now and I want the CM to remember that.'
Last week, parents of the young trainee doctor who was raped and murdered at the RG Kar Hospital and Medical College in Kolkata in August 2024 met Central Bureau of Investigation Director Praveen Sood. The meeting was to discuss the supplementary charge sheet which the CBI is to submit this month.
The parents had also requested a meeting with President Droupadi Murmu, Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Home Minister Amit Shah to seek justice for their daughter. The President's office denied permission for the meeting stating 'paucity of time' while the PMO and Shah's office have not responded.
On Saturday, International Women's Day, the girl's mother reiterated that she and her husband would like to meet Modi to seek justice for their daughter.
A CBI court on January 20 sentenced Sanjay Roy, a former civic volunteer with the Kolkata police, to life imprisonment till death for the rape and murder of their daughter on the intervening night of August 8-9, 2024.
The parents say they are yet to receive the death certificate, and yet to get justice for their daughter since they believe the actual culprits still roam free.
"Before this happened, my daughter was simply known as daktar-babu (doctor babu, the gender is all-encompassing) in the area where we live. She was respected because people knew how hard she worked to get where she was.
"After the incident, she is referred to as Tilottama, Abhaya... What are these names? We want our daughter to be named and remembered for the doctor she was, the daughter she was, for the example she set," the parents say.
"Ask about our daughter, not just what happened to her."
In an interview with Swarupa Dutt/Rediff.com at their home, and over the phone, the parents -- stoic and courageous, impatient and emotional -- speak not about victim and victimhood, but their life with the girl who was a daughter.
The Parents
Theirs was an arranged marriage. She never had any say on who she wanted to marry. "But I realised by and by that my husband was a good man. We had meagre means, we lived in a joint family, in a hut, but he told me we will get out of that house, we will see better days, but we have to work hard to get there. I am 52 and he's 10 years older and we made good that promise we made ourselves," says the mother.
The father, who runs a small business stitching school uniforms for government schools out of a workshop in his house, says that he learnt the trade for nine years while he was employed at another place.
"I and my wife swore that we will work hard and be successful. Amra theek parbo (we will be able to do it)," he says.
The mother says that she used to sit at the sewing machine, stitch the uniforms, fold and pack them. Now, they have workers to do the job, but if there is any urgent work, she's back at the machine; it's all hands to the deck.
It took them 20 years to move from the hut to the three-storeyed house they now live in. "We built this house at one go, not in bits and spurts with a bank loan. The feeling of being able to step into your dream is unmatched," the father says.
The design was planned -- separate rooms, a garage, a workshop, everything they needed. "Now, every room has only memories of her," he sighs.
The Birth
It was a difficult pregnancy, the mother says, unwell right through it, she could barely eat. Her mother-in-law didn't want her to consult doctors; home remedies were used and she had a normal delivery at the government hospital nearby. The baby was underweight at 4.4 pounds.
It was a girl child and there was some disappointment in the extended family. "When I came home from the hospital, my husband said, 'Ei amader shob hobe. This child will be our world'," the mother says, "that it was a girl child and therefore we should be unhappy did not even strike us."
Happiness
Is there really a single instance that can be identified and collared as the moment that made us the happiest? The parents say, no. They were ecstatic at the birth of their daughter, at every milestone -- an expanding business, the new house, NEET results, MBBS, MD, their daughter finding her partner, her impending marriage... it was as if their life couldn't get any better.
"She was always a very understanding child. My mother used to babysit her because we were busy earning a living, but in the evening she would say, 'Take me back home, my mother has finished her work and will miss me if I'm not there by her side'. We found happiness in each other, in time spent together," her mother weeps.
The Tender Years
She loved academics and was always a good student. "From the time she learnt to speak, she told us she wanted to become a doctor. People used to tell her, 'Your dad doesn't have money, how will he pay for your fees?' and she would say, 'No, my dad said he will make me a doctor and he will.'
The truth, they say, is they didn't help her become a doctor -- she did it herself. The long hours studying for the NEET exams (MBBS and MD), scoring handsomely to qualify for a government college -- only by dint of frightfully hard work.
"You see, she never had to be pushed to study, ever. Ami prochur shaath ditam (I was by her side every step of the way). Ever since Class 9, when academics got a little more serious to now as she studied for MD and DM, I would stay awake with her while she studied," the mother says. [DM (Pulmonary Medicine] is also a three-year course after MD. There are just 61 seats in India.]
No, it wasn't a sacrifice, she says, because it was time spent with her daughter. "I used to take these [points to the school uniforms] to the room and work while she stayed up and studied.
"I stay awake now too; sleeping pills don't help," she says.
Perspiration, perspiration, perspiration
They taught their daughter that there is no shortcut to hard work but the girl was good at whatever she set out to do. When in school, her grandma would volunteer to do the stitching assignments, but she would say, 'Teach me, I'll do it'. She wasn't a shirker and it was always carpe diem for the family.
"After a 36-hour duty, she would come home, freshen up and go to the clinic to see patients. We used to tell her, don't go, rest, she would say, 'Na, they are waiting for me'," the father says.
Money wasn't the motive; she charged Rs 200 for a visit and at least half her patients were too poor to pay. "You have to understand that she was passionate about her profession. Her patients meant a lot to her, it was never about money," her father adds.
Medicine
She did her MBBS from Kalyani Medical College in West Bengal in 2017 and in 2022, she got into MD (Medicine). She had appeared for her NEET-PG exams earlier and got Surgery but didn't take it up. Then she got Gynaecology and began doing her MS at Bankura. But MD (Medicine) was her first love and when she finally got it, she was ecstatic.
[MBBS doctors in West Bengal apply for admission to an MD (Doctor of Medicine) programme through a centralised counselling process conducted by the West Bengal Medical Counselling Committee based on their NEET PG rank. This allows them to choose their preferred college and specialty for their postgraduate medical studies.]
Between MBBS and MD, she began practising at the clinic near the house and reapplied for the NEET-PG exams till she got Medicine.
"We had told her that she could go to Germany and do her MD; it's much easier to get a seat there than here. I have friends there who would have borne the expenses, but she never wanted to go abroad because it meant staying away from us. Her life too, was always about us," her father says.
After she got into MD (Medicine) she decided to hold Durga Puja at their home to celebrate. October 2024 would have been the third Durga Puja, but that's come to an end.
[Durga Puja is never held at homes, it's always sarvajanik (community pujas), except for a few of the former zamindar houses of Bengal. So, it's almost unheard of to have a house puja and was a very big deal.]
The posting at the reputed RG Kar College was the icing on the cake.
RG Kar Medical College and Hospital
"The day she got into RG Kar she got mishti for us and told me, 'You are happy, ma, that I got into RG Kar?' I wish I had said, 'No, I'm not, leave it.' But how would we know that RG Kar is a cesspool of corruption? And not just RG Kar, every medical college hospital has the same problem in Bengal. My daughter's death has only shown the extent of that corruption. The health department here is a pit of vipers." [Mamata Banerjee is also the state health minister.]
The parents mention the fake saline case at the Midnapore Medical College and Hospital which left a mother and her baby dead and several others grievously ill in January this year.
"I can assure you that at the chest medicine department of RG Kar Hospital, patients have died because of the effect of the medicines. Our daughter has told us so. But you see, if one patient dies, you can blame other factors, it's only when several die that the issue gets publicity. The underbelly of spurious drugs is prevalent throughout West Bengal in all government hospitals," alleges the father.
At RG Kar Hospital
The girl worked 10-hour shifts every day, except Sunday, with work normally beginning at around 9 am. Once a month she had to do a 36-hour duty while one Sunday was rotation duty.
On the day she was murdered she was on the 36-hour-duty.
"Actually, she was on substitute duty that night because the other doctor was unwell. She told us if she does it then her next 36-hour duty would only be in September. From October she would have moved to DRP, and those who killed her knew that."
[DRP is a District Residency Programme, a mandatory three-month training programme for post-graduate medical students in India. Her DRP was from October to December near her house.]
She used to reach the hospital at 9 am, leave at 7 pm, and reach home by 9:30 pm. Naturally, when she bought the car and employed a driver, it cut travel time. After dinner she would study late at night for DM and had joined two coaching classes for it.
Her final exams for MD was in August 2025. 'Baba, nobody can stop me, I will get the gold medal,' she told her father.
She would laugh and tell her mother, 'porte porte buro hoye gechi (I've become old studying).
RG Kar was her sanctuary because she liked her work and liked working there. To be raped and murdered at your work place is probably the most difficult aspect for the parents to understand.
The Diary
She used to write down her schedule or agenda for the next day in her diary with the time and the entry -- for instance, 'left home', 'ate tiffin', 'had a bath', 'reached hospital', 'reached home' etc. Each entry had a time. She had written down everything for August 9 (when she was found dead) a day earlier. Those pages of her diary were ripped out and taken by the police.
"It's part of the Seizure List. Only the CBI knows they will do with it. To be honest, just like a criminal is your opponent, so is the CBI," the father says.
When West Bengal CM Mamata Banerjee came to meet them last year after the incident, she told them the real culprit has been caught.
"We said we don't believe that he [Sanjay Roy] is the main culprit, there are many more people involved."
Please click go here to read what happened when the CM visited them.
Life beyond RG Kar...
Not our daughter, nor our son-in-law.
She wasn't their daughter, but their best friend. "She shared everything that happened at the hospital with us, every detail. She would also practise at a chamber in this locality in the evening. I would be watching TV and after the clinic she would return home, grin and switch off the TV and take me by my hand to her room and say, 'Ma, I was out the whole day, now spend time with me'. We would catch up on the day, she would chat with her fiancé over the phone."
They say, her fiancé takes care of them now -- health check-ups, blood tests, errands... He is our son now. He calls at least twice a day -- have we taken our medicines, what did we do the whole day... just as our daughter did, he checks up on us."
They met while the girl was doing her MBBS. He's a neuropsychiatricist and they were going to marry in November this year.
Friends and friendships
The girl did not have too many friends in college. "For friendships also you need money to spend -- movies, canteen, shopping -- we couldn't give her so much," her dad says.
Everyone took advantage of her because she was competent and couldn't say no, the parents say. If someone wanted to skip ward duty, she would be the go-to person.
At RG Kar, there were two units with four doctors each, handling a total of around 75 patients and if one doctor was absent, she would be asked cover.
"She used to do it uncomplainingly; she never came home angry at her colleagues, but the work pressure was intense and she was exhausted. We feel hurt and puzzled that not a single colleague who was on duty that night she died, reached out to us in all these months," they say.
Never say 'no'
Her best quality was also her worst -- sincerity -- for that is why she was doing substitute duty that night, say her parents. She couldn't say no -- you throw her a challenge and she would excel, but that's how they brought her up because poverty meant no second chances.
"She was good at everything. God gave us a diamond but we couldn't keep her because of the society we live in."
The parents say that Mamata Banerjee monitored everything that happened on that night from 2 am to the morning when news of her death was announced. "Everything was done under her directions. If there are repercussions for what we say, we will face it. We have nothing to fear because we have lost everything."
Birthdays with patients
She never took leave on her birthday. If it was a public holiday that day, she would practise at the clinic and the MRs would get cake and celebrate with her. Work was her life. When she came home in the evening, her dad would order a cake and she would order food from a restaurant. It was always intimate celebrations -- just them.
In her first birthday in February, since her death, the parents went to the Abhaya Clinics near their house and spent time with her patients who had come to pay their respects.
"I used to make payesh for her; this time I didn't bother. Actually, we don't even have a large framed picture of her because it breaks our heart to see her framed like that. After she died so many people gifted us large pictures of her, but we sent them all back. She is alive in our hearts; we don't want to see her like that up on a wall," her mother weeps.
Food of the gods
It's difficult to eat her favourite foods. She loved eggs. Her mother says that when at the college hostel while doing her MBBS, everyone got to know how much she loved eggs and the canteen would give her two eggs instead of one. Make them any which way, and she loved them.
"We can't bring ourselves to eat eggs anymore; there are two eggs lying in the fridge, it's just lying there; neither can we eat it nor can we throw it because it reminds us of her. She used to love cabbage; we didn't eat the wonderful winter cabbage this time. She loved pithe, payesh… It just breaks our heart. She didn't know how to cook, but she would look up recipes on YouTube and ask me to make them," her mother says. Now, she cooks because they have to live.
Relatives, Neighbours, and a Support System
The father says that his brother still says in the same hut that they used to live in 20 years ago. After the girl died, his brother's son had a heart attack, but thankfully survived. She was the pride of the entire family because nobody in their entire family is a doctor or so highly qualified.
"She was loved by everyone in the family and she was the first port of call if any of them had any problem. If we are devastated, so are they," he says.
As for neighbours, in this area, only one senior lady stood by them. "We didn't have a CCTV then; our neighbour did and we asked him for footage of that day, just in case there was someone suspicious outside our home. But he didn't share it. Frankly, everyone was jealous because my daughter was so successful. And after she bought the car, it got worse."
It was from strangers that they have received the most love and affection. When she died, many patients came home and wept before them. There were patients who could barely pay for a bus ride but still came.
"A patient told us, 'Madam used to treat me for free, her medicines and her diagnosis were excellent. Leave Sandip Ghosh [RG Kar principal during the incident] in my hands, I will see to him'."
The other day, a gentleman in his late eighties, came to the court room. "Court was in recess and he asked, 'Is the RG Kar case being heard in this room?' He needed support to walk, but he came alone.
"I teared up when I saw him because here was this stranger who respected my daughter and wanted to show his solidarity with us. He was just an ordinary man, not a patient; and there, at RG Kar, people she thought were her friends, her colleagues, her principal, did not bother about what happened to her," says the father.
Financial stability
This tailoring business will see them through their old age, in any case, they were financially independent. Yes, a couple of times, the girl did pool in when they needed extra money to tide over a crisis. She used to earn Rs 55,000 as stipend at RG Kar, but the money was hers to spend.
"When my daughter's body was lying upstairs in this house prior to her cremation for people to pay their respects, the DCP (North) called me to another room and offered me a packet. 'Taka aache, apnar kaaje lagbe (it's money, it will be useful to you)'."
"I said, taka dichhen? (you are giving money?)"
"I refused to take it and told him that I can see that you have worked hard for the IPS pinned on your lapel, but my daughter has worked harder than you and you are insulting her by offering me money."
Their business is doing well, their daughter was on the cusp of being an MD, money, they say is only important to survive now, not to build a future.
Loss and longing
They are tough, if at all the mother breaks down sometimes, not the father. "We weep alone; there is silence within the house. What can we say to each other beyond being there for each other," the mother says.
The father says their daughter always told them that she learned to be strong from them, that they were her heroes, her ideals. "So, we have to be strong for her and it makes getting up every day easier," he adds.
It's the little things that hurt the most. The empty space at the dining table, her empty room, the clothes and shoes, the books, the missing toothbrush, that hug and her laughter.
Faith
The incident wiped out their faith in God, in fact, the girl was the one who had the most faith among the three, right from the time she was a child. "When she was in nursery, she would have a bath and wearing a gamchha (a thin cotton handspun towel), pour water over Lord Shiva's head and then go to school. Even as an adult she would not leave the house without praying to the gods; it's something she learnt from her grandma.
"And see what happened. I'm not blaming god, but certainly there was no god when she was murdered there, alone in that room," they say.
Judgment, Justice and Life Ahead
They never miss court hearings. "Never in our dreams did we think we would have to sit in court like this because we are very ordinary people. If our daughter was alive today and she saw us sitting there in court amongst criminals, she would have been heartbroken," the mother says.
Her father says, "People work for eight hours; we worked for 16 hours, right up to August 9. If I have a goal in life, I will work hard to fulfil it; to do whatever it takes to achieve it. Hard work is the foundation of our existence. Getting justice for my daughter is my goal now and I want the CM to remember that."
"Those who did not allow my daughter to fulfil her dreams... while we are alive, we will ensure their dreams are not fulfilled either. My daughter had so many dreams, but she could not fulfil them. Shudhu koshto kore gachhe (she spent her life working hard)."
The girl dreamt that next to her name on the nameplate would be several degrees -- MBBS, MD, DM. Her passion was qualifications not money. "When MRs used to offer money to prescribe their medicines, she would refuse and say, if at all, give her textbooks. If she loved anything next to us, it was academics."
"We have to snatch justice. We have begged for justice, but we haven't got it," the father says.
The first thing, they say, is identification of everyone involved. "Justice may or may not happen, but who are those people who did this to her? If the hospital authorities had helped us that day, or the police, then the real culprits would have been caught. I believe that those who destroyed evidence are as guilty as Sanjay Roy."
This house will be left as a memorial to their daughter. The house she loved, where on the nameplate at the door is written her name and her qualification 'Pulmonary Physician'.