rediff.com Special: The victims of Veerappan

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The Rediff Special
'How can they release the detenues just to please Veerappan?'
Dr A S Govindraj is lucky to be freed.
And so, we pray, will be Karnataka matinee idol Rajakumar who still remains Veerappan's hostage.
On a day when his release appears just a matter of time, Roving Editor Ramesh Menon brings you a few who have not been lucky at all.
Meet them, these widows of the men whom Veerappan has killed. In more than one sense, they are his real victims...
NAGAVENI counted the days again.
Her 12th marriage anniversary was round the corner. But husband Elangovan, a constable with the Karnataka police, was not home.
He was in Ramapura, Karnataka. He would return two days after the anniversary on May 20, 1992.
Elangovan had promised to take her to the temple. To thank god for bringing them together.
On 20th, the news came.
Veerappan had killed Elangovan.
"Can I ever forget that?" Nagaveni asks, her eyes brimming over even today. "I can never celebrate any anniversary."
Elangovan was sleeping on the verandah of the Ramapura police station when Veerappan attacked. Five policemen were killed in that incident.
After he was cremated, ministers and politicians visited Nagaveni at home in Mysore. They promised her help -- and promptly forgot about it. Now no one bothers to look in on her, not even to make false promises.
It's nine years since. It still hurts.
"Is it fair to let Veerappan go unpunished after all the murders he has committed?" she asks not expecting an answer. She has asked herself that question numerous times.
LIFE was not easy after Elangovan died.
Nagaveni Her son, Ashok Kumar, 17, has a major heart ailment. The treatment is expensive. She has already spent Rs 50,000 on the treatment. Soon she would have to shell out another 100,000 for an operation. She does not know where the money will come from.
Nagaveni is not the only one who is grappling with such questions. Dakshaini, in her mid-30s, needs a job. It is not easy finding one at her age, when all the experience she has is of being a housewife.
Her two daughters are growing up. Their school fees alone total up to Rs 4,000 every month.
Veerappan and his men in MM Hills had killed her husband Swamy, a constable, in an ambush. The government had promised to pay for the children's education. But it just remained a promise.
Her daughter, Sruti, 11, now in the sixth standard, says she knows about Veerappan. She retreats into silence when asked what she thought of him.
There are many children like her who have deep mental scars. It is not easy to see your father's murderer being treated with kid gloves.
AS the hostage drama appears to near an end, and Veerappan is set for a victory, widows like Nagaveni and Dakshaini find their wounds festering again. They seethe with anger and helplessness.
Bhojamma, who lost her husband M K Uttappa in one of Veerappan's attack, feels that the government has to take a tough stand before more lives are lost.
"If the assailants of Indira and Rajiv have been caught, why can't Veerappan be caught and punished?" she asks.
After the Rajakumar kidnap, memories of her husband and the failure of the government year after year -- which, she believes, is what has made Veerappan what he is today -- come rushing back.
Anger is one emotion that still eats into her. "A policeman's life is as important as that of Rajakumar," says Bhojamma.
"When so many policemen died all these years, there was not even a public protest. No one ever cared for their sacrifices."
Saroja Saroja's husband, Prabhakara, had just joined the Special Task Force that was formed to nab Veerappan. Six days later, he was ambushed while escorting his senior officer in the MM Hills.
On the way, they found a wooden block in the middle of the road. When they stopped, Veerappan and his men attacked. Prabhakara and five others were killed that day.
Soon after his death on May 24, 1993, Saroja realised that bringing up her two children was a hard task.
"How can two governments release all the TADA detenues just to please Veerappan? When my husband died trying to catch the bandit, there was no sympathy," she says.
DAMAYANTI is waiting for her son Suthana to grow up.
He is in the seventh standard. Had her husband Kalappa, a constable, been alive, Suthana would have grown up without pressure, she says.
Kalappa was killed a day before Independence Day 1992 when Veerappan ambushed a police party, killing six.
Damayanti heard about the tragedy on the radio. It seems like yesterday.
Suprita, 14, her only daughter, says the government could have caught Veerappan if it really wanted. She often remembers her father.
"He was brave," she says.
Design: Dominic Xavier
RELATED COVERAGE
Still At Large
The Rajakumar Kidnapping

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	The Rediff Special Dr A S Govindraj is lucky to be freed. And so, we pray, will be Karnataka matinee idol Rajakumar who still remains Veerappan's hostage. On a day when his release appears just a matter of time, Roving Editor Ramesh Menon brings you a few who have not been lucky at all. Meet them, these widows of the men whom Veerappan has killed. In more than one sense, they are his real victims... NAGAVENI counted the days again. Her 12th marriage anniversary was round the corner. But husband Elangovan, a constable with the Karnataka police, was not home. He was in Ramapura, Karnataka. He would return two days after the anniversary on May 20, 1992. Elangovan had promised to take her to the temple. To thank god for bringing them together. On 20th, the news came. Veerappan had killed Elangovan. "Can I ever forget that?" Nagaveni asks, her eyes brimming over even today. "I can never celebrate any anniversary." Elangovan was sleeping on the verandah of the Ramapura police station when Veerappan attacked. Five policemen were killed in that incident. After he was cremated, ministers and politicians visited Nagaveni at home in Mysore. They promised her help -- and promptly forgot about it. Now no one bothers to look in on her, not even to make false promises. It's nine years since. It still hurts. "Is it fair to let Veerappan go unpunished after all the murders he has committed?" she asks not expecting an answer. She has asked herself that question numerous times. LIFE was not easy after Elangovan died. Her son, Ashok Kumar, 17, has a major heart ailment. The treatment is expensive. She has already spent Rs 50,000 on the treatment. Soon she would have to shell out another 100,000 for an operation. She does not know where the money will come from. Nagaveni is not the only one who is grappling with such questions. Dakshaini, in her mid-30s, needs a job. It is not easy finding one at her age, when all the experience she has is of being a housewife. Her two daughters are growing up. Their school fees alone total up to Rs 4,000 every month. Veerappan and his men in MM Hills had killed her husband Swamy, a constable, in an ambush. The government had promised to pay for the children's education. But it just remained a promise. Her daughter, Sruti, 11, now in the sixth standard, says she knows about Veerappan. She retreats into silence when asked what she thought of him. There are many children like her who have deep mental scars. It is not easy to see your father's murderer being treated with kid gloves. AS the hostage drama appears to near an end, and Veerappan is set for a victory, widows like Nagaveni and Dakshaini find their wounds festering again. They seethe with anger and helplessness. Bhojamma, who lost her husband M K Uttappa in one of Veerappan's attack, feels that the government has to take a tough stand before more lives are lost. "If the assailants of Indira and Rajiv have been caught, why can't Veerappan be caught and punished?" she asks. After the Rajakumar kidnap, memories of her husband and the failure of the government year after year -- which, she believes, is what has made Veerappan what he is today -- come rushing back. Anger is one emotion that still eats into her. "A policeman's life is as important as that of Rajakumar," says Bhojamma. "When so many policemen died all these years, there was not even a public protest. No one ever cared for their sacrifices." Saroja's husband, Prabhakara, had just joined the Special Task Force that was formed to nab Veerappan. Six days later, he was ambushed while escorting his senior officer in the MM Hills. On the way, they found a wooden block in the middle of the road. When they stopped, Veerappan and his men attacked. Prabhakara and five others were killed that day. Soon after his death on May 24, 1993, Saroja realised that bringing up her two children was a hard task. "How can two governments release all the TADA detenues just to please Veerappan? When my husband died trying to catch the bandit, there was no sympathy," she says. DAMAYANTI is waiting for her son Suthana to grow up. He is in the seventh standard. Had her husband Kalappa, a constable, been alive, Suthana would have grown up without pressure, she says. Kalappa was killed a day before Independence Day 1992 when Veerappan ambushed a police party, killing six. Damayanti heard about the tragedy on the radio. It seems like yesterday. Suprita, 14, her only daughter, says the government could have caught Veerappan if it really wanted. She often remembers her father. "He was brave," she says. *Design: Dominic Xavier* RELATED COVERAGE Still At Large The Rajakumar Kidnapping
HOME \| NEWS \| CRICKET \| MONEY \| SPORTS \| MOVIES \| CHAT \| BROADBAND \| TRAVEL ASTROLOGY \| NEWSLINKS \| BOOK SHOP \| MUSIC SHOP \| GIFT SHOP \| HOTEL BOOKINGS AIR/RAIL \| WEDDING \| ROMANCE \| WEATHER \| WOMEN \| E-CARDS \| EDUCATION HOMEPAGES \| FREE MESSENGER \| FREE EMAIL \| CONTESTS \| FEEDBACK