The day Indira was shot
KK Paul
There are certain events in one’s life which retain their vividity even after decades, and remain fresh in memory. Such experiences, often having an emotional or a traumatic angle, become a part of indelible memory, which may sometimes last even a lifetime. In these days of lockdown, with a lot of time at hand, it comes naturally to recall such events. One such incident, where a small but timely intervention led to a significant contribution in the overall scenario, readily comes to my mind.
Delhi’s chaotic traffic has been notorious for decades. For the Deputy Commissioner of Police (Traffic), it used to be a very heavy charge. His jurisdiction was spread out over the entire Union Territory of Delhi, besides he was also responsible for the entire arrangements for the VIP movement, of which there was plenty in the Capital. I had been in this hot seat for quite some time and had marked a routine for myself. Before getting busy with the problems of the city, I used to invariably first check the route arrangements for Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, from her residence to office. Residing in an area, a few minutes’ drive from the PM’s residence, was an advantage.
On the fateful day of October 31, 1984, as I was coming out of my house, a message about shooting at the PM’s residence was received. I was, in any case, going towards the PM’s route, and as such we speeded up and reached the house, only to find that she had already been taken to hospital in a seriously injured condition. Each year on October 31, the CRPF also observes its raising day at Jharoda, on the outskirts of West Delhi. This meant that most of the senior officers were away for the ceremonials and were at least 40 minutes away. Perhaps this was the reason that I found myself to be the senior-most officer in uniform at the PM’s residence at that time.
I was informed that the PM had been grievously injured and had been taken to AIIMS. My enquiry about the assailants revealed that they were already dead. The ITBP personnel deployed at the PM’s residence took me to the guard room, where two bodies were lying, one on top of the other, in a pool of blood. Instinctively, I tried to push the body which was covering the one on the floor. At that moment, it was noticed that the muscles of the one on the floor twitched, showing signs of life. Immediately, the alarm was raised that one of the assailants was still alive and bleeding. He was quickly removed from the guard room and taken in an ambulance to RML Hospital. He was Satwant Singh. He had sustained several bullet injuries on his person and was bleeding profusely, yet he survived to narrate the conspiracy, and the rest, as they say, is history.