Chapter 11: Gathering Evidence
Before this, I’d already asked him to collect as much evidence as possible.
Arjun had set up Google alerts, saved every post, screenshot every message. He even made a folder called ‘Nyaay’ on his laptop.
At Arjun’s place, he smoked and clicked his mouse, showing me, “It’s all here—easy to collect. She’s opened several social media accounts.”
His living room smelled of incense and cigarette smoke. He flicked through folders on his laptop, showing me hundreds of posts and videos.
“On those accounts, she’s posted a dozen essays, either directly accusing you or hinting the police refused to open a case.”
Some posts were in Hindi, some in English, some in half-baked Hinglish. She was relentless, posting at all hours of the night.
“She seems to have a problem—she doesn’t even call the police ‘police’.”
“What does she call them?” I leaned over.
“Sun na, yaar,” Arjun grinned mirthlessly. “Topis! Keh rahi hai, ‘topis sun nahi rahe hain.’”
Arjun tapped his cigarette ash. “She calls the police ‘topis’—she keeps saying the topis won’t open a case for her.”
He showed me memes and posts—some even tagged the police as ‘topiwalas.’ Even the police found it bizarre.
Arjun helped me gather all the evidence of the mother’s online attacks against me.
He made backups, time-stamped everything. “Ab dekho, kaise palat-ta hai kismat!”
I also compiled her invasion of my privacy, defamation, and incitement of online abuse against me and my family.
Even my old WhatsApp group chats, where she’d spammed my name, were saved. I felt hope for the first time.
All of it was submitted to the police.
We went to the station together, files in hand. The inspector looked surprised, but nodded.
After receiving the evidence, the police officially summoned the mother.
She arrived, chin up, with her daughter in tow. The other women in the waiting area glared at her, the tension palpable.
“You reported me?” she spat at me.
Her voice was pure venom. The child looked away, clutching her mother’s sari.
“You did such a thing and still have the nerve to report me?”
She jabbed a finger at my chest. “Sharam nahi aati?”
“Sir, I’ve submitted all the evidence. I request you handle this according to the law,” I said to the police.
I folded my hands, voice steady for the first time in days. “Sir, kanoon se badhkar kuch nahi hai. Main sirf nyay chahta hoon.”
“Evidence? What evidence?” the mother growled.
Her eyes blazed. “Sab jhoot hai! Yeh sab milke mujhe phasa rahe hain!”
The police explained, “You are suspected of invading someone’s privacy, damaging their reputation, and inciting public attacks…”
The inspector read the charges, his tone stern, “Aapne uski badnaami ki, parivar ko dhamki di. Kanooni karwai hogi.”
“It’s because you did nothing, ignoring us single mothers and small kids—that’s why I did this! Everything I said is true! I’m not afraid of you! He deserves to die!” she shouted. “Even my daughter said it was him!”
She began to weep again, but the police were unmoved. The inspector warned her, “Jhoot bolne se sach nahi badlega, madam.”
I ignored her.
For the first time, her words didn’t sting. I focused on the inspector, not her drama.
I told the police my demands directly. “She spread rumours about me on every major platform, not only destroying my reputation but also causing enormous harm to me and my family. I demand a public apology, deletion of all false rumours, compensation for all my losses, and that she be criminally investigated to the full extent of the law.”
Arjun nodded vigorously, backing me up. “Sir, yeh sab hona hi chahiye. Insaf milna chahiye.”
I stressed, “I absolutely will not consider a settlement!”
I looked the mother in the eye. “Main samjhauta nahi karunga, chahe kuch bhi ho jaye.”
The mother exploded. “Compensate your losses? What losses? My daughter was violated by you! If anyone should compensate, it’s you paying me!”
She leapt up, voice shrill. “Paise chahiye tujhe? Mere bache ki zindagi barbaad kar di!”
She grabbed the police. “Sir, I want to file a case too! Make him pay me! And lock him up!”
She clutched the inspector’s sleeve, refusing to let go. The inspector sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
The police frowned. “We’ve already determined your daughter was not violated. The person whose rights have been infringed is this gentleman.”
He spoke slowly, “Madam, yeh galat ilzaam hai. Ab aapko jawab dena padega.”
“Who says my daughter wasn’t violated!”
She stamped her foot, face flushed with fury. “Meri beti ke saath kuch hua hai, bas!”