Magistrate drops warrant for arrest of territory police officer at Bhopal bus station near New Delhi on June 29, 2015. (PTI photo)
“You are not even arresting us,” he says, pointing to the officer who holds an arrest warrant to take him to the police station even as he stands next to me. He asks me what I would like to say, and then turns off the tape recorder. The tone of my interrogation now changes to rage, anger and frustration.
He tells me I should talk to his father, as I have just been handed two charges in the case of kidnapping for ransom. I reply, “You are wrong, there is no kidnapping charge in this case”. He denies all the allegations against me. “You are going to speak to my Dad when I go to the police station,” he tells me. He keeps silent as he moves toward his car.
Soon, I am dragged by two constables into a huge court complex. I am told the arrest has been made on the basis of an FIR filed against me by a juvenile NGO.
I do not realize then how I am taken to that police station where my jaw is pulled from my face. I hear screams of the arresting poli우리카지노cemen in the back room where we are held while a바카라 court monitor points to the ceiling, asking what is the situation. I don’t speak, but the cries of my captor carry over to my heart, I can hear his cries echoing in the vast court complex.
As I stand in front of the large courtroom, jarvees.comwaiting for an arraignment hearing, I see my parents outside, and am taken out into the courtyard by a group of the NGO’s supporters.
While my parents are standing in their red dress robes, I’m thrown into custody and placed in a white prison cell with many others. The only time my family is able to speak is when the court has already been adjourned for the night.
My father, who works as a maintenance worker in a private hospital, and his wife have come to the court to watch the court proceedings but have been told by the court-appointed monitor, that their bail application can not be given as their arrest warrants are in process.
Before long, the bail hearing for the two boys who I had snatched from me is postponed. The magistrate sends a squad car to take me from there. I am given another four days in a prison where there is no electricity and I am kept in what is commonly called the “wet-basin jail.”