#39/100 in #100extraordinarywomen
With her battle to get her son’s killers to justice reaching finality before the Supreme Court, Neelam Katara (now about 64 years old) was very recently in the limelight again, as usual decrying honour killings and musclemen-led politics. Neelam feels that losing her son and the the long legal battle has left deep wounds. Her health, family life and finances took a back seat while she fought to get her son’s killers punished. She also joked about whether she would need to ask for more security in the light of the judgment and the sharp remarks she has made against “corrupt” politicians. Her 14-year long fight for justice to prove her son's death was an "honour killing" is well known. A lone woman's fight against a political family with a strong criminal background can make anyone quiver to their knees. "I stayed strong. I wanted to fight for my son who always stood up for others," she said. But in the end, with the recent Supreme Court ruling, she feels that she can now rest in peace and have a normal life again.
Neelam’s son, Nitish Katara, was 23 when he was abducted and murdered by the three convicts as they were opposed to his relationship with Bharti, the sister of convict Vikas Yadav and daughter of Uttar Pradesh politician D P Yadav. The Katara family too was skeptical about the match, but never thought the affair would end like this. They didn’t approve of the relationship but Nitish was sure he wanted to marry Bharti. So, they were trying to respect his decision and all the time wondering and hoping that the affair would end in a while. They never imagined they would lose their son in the wake. The family also had very little time to consider the issue as Nitish informed his parents about his relationship in December 2001. He was killed two months later, in February 2002.
On the fateful night of 16th February 2002, Nitish attended a friends wedding in Ghaziabad along with Bharti. Bharti's mother, her brother Vikas and sister Bhavna were also all there. After the wedding, four people have told the court that they had seen Vikas Yadav and his cousin Vishal Yadav take Nitish into their Tata Safari SUV. His friends thought he would be returning soon, but when they had not returned till well past midnight, Bharat Divakar, who had accompanied Nitish to the wedding in a taxi, went to their house. It was 3 am when Neelam Katara opened the door, and she immediately called Bharti. It turned out that Bharti herself was trying to find out Nitish's whereabouts. She asked Neelam "to go to the police, adding that maybe her brothers – Vikas and Vishal – had taken Nitish to Punjab". Bharti is thought to have called her sister Bhavna Yadav, whose registered mobile phone number was used all night to call many friends of the couple, as well as Neelam Katara. Bharti also gave Neelam her father's number, and after a fruitless visit to the police, at 8 in the morning, Neelam called D. P. Yadav, who did not know where Vikas or Nitish might be. Next morning, the police found a battered and burned body at Khurja, 80 km from the wedding venue. The body had been so badly beaten that "the digestive system had fallen out". At 11 am in the morning, Neelam Katara filed a First Information Report. Based on initial statements by her and Bharti Yadav, warrants were issued for Vikas and Vishal. “The moment I saw that burnt body, I knew it was him. The policemen told me that they couldn’t bear that sight for long but I stood there and kept looking at Nitish’s battered and charred remains. That’s when I decided, I cannot let him die like this. He deserved justice and I would go to any extreme,” she recalls. In her FIR, on the basis of the conversations she had with Nitish's friends while searching for his whereabouts, Neelam set down her deep suspicions that Vikas and Vishal Yadav, Bharti's brothers, who had disapproved of her relationship with Nitish, were involved in the crime. Subsequently, she filed a habeas corpus at the advice of senior Supreme Court woman lawyer, Kamini Jaiswal, who has been her pro-bono legal adviser ever since. What proceeded was years of legal battle, court proceedings, convictions, bails and appeals.
Neelam says, “Had Bharti's brothers not killed Nitish, they would have killed Bharti in the name of caste and honour. ‘Honour killings’ have been a common occurrence. They happen every week in little towns of states like UP, where I was born and brought up.” In fact, Neelam is really unhappy at caste becoming such a major source of divisions in contemporary India. Nitish himself was brought up never to make distinctions based on caste. For the Kataras “caste was purely a phenomenon of medieval times”. “When I came to know about Nitish and Bharti, the only thing I was wary about was that her brother, Vikas, was one of the accused in the Jessica Lal murder case. We did not even know of her father's criminal political background,” she recalls.
An English honours graduate and a pass out from Loreto Convent in Lucknow, Neelam says this courage was ingrained in her by the school. “My teachers had always encouraged us to ask questions. That is what gave me the courage to take on powerful men and defeat them in their own turf. It sure was a perilous journey, but I had to embark upon it. There was no other choice left for me. My husband was dying of a motor neurological disorder and my youngest son was still pursuing his graduation. I had to fight to save our reputation and get justice for my Nitish,” she says. Since then it has been almost 3,000 court visits and rounds of the legal offices to understand where the case was headed. It took her a few years to just come to terms with the legal procedures. But giving up was never an option.
A teacher and education adviser with the Kendriya Vidyala Board at that time, Neelam says teaching was always her first love and she was never interested in climbing the ladder and becoming the principal. She retired as the education officer and is now working with the British Council for the English language assessment arm. “I took a break after the incident, because I couldn’t handle all the running around with the job at hand. At present, I am with the British Council. It keeps me busy. I have to go three days a week and work from home a bit. The going is good,” she says. Although Neelam's father was a police officer with the Uttar Pradesh (UP) police, her maternal grandfather a judge and her paternal grandfather a public prosecutor she, like most ordinary Indians, had no awareness of the way the legal system worked. "In school we are taught science and general knowledge. But no one gives us basic legal knowledge or even legal rights awareness. I think having this information in today's crime ridden times will be a great asset," she states.
Her first visit to the court in Ghaziabad was an eye opener for her. Like most people, Neelam’s knowledge of courts was limited to what she had seen in the movies. Till she landed up in one herself. There were hundreds of men in black robes intimidating people around them. They were abusive, crass and looked like goons to her. The push and shove continued for a few hours before she even made it to the hearing. This slowly became a routine. When her husband died in August 2003, that was the only time that Neelam wanted to give up and take a back seat. “I was slightly de-motivated. We had not expected Nishit to leave like this. He was suffering but he was agile. The stress was a little too much for him. My husband has always been an organised man. He was the plan A, plan B kind of a guy. If we were out on a holiday, he was the sort to reserve two hotels — what if we don’t like the first arrangement? The Nitish case shocked him,” Neelam recalls. A few days after she had decided to let go of the case and simply resign to her fate, politician DP Yadav, the father of the accused, was disowned by his party in just four days after the media raised a hue and cry. “That was my green signal from God. I was not waging this battle on my own,” she says.
In November 2002, when the trials began, things had looked bad. Witness after witness turned hostile. Under immense family pressure, even Bharti denied any involvement with Nitish and left for the UK. The financial drain was severe when in January 2004 the public prosecutor ditched her and she had to hire a private lawyer. This led her to spend most of her husband's retirement benefits. Stress had taken a toll on Neelam. It led her to put on a lot of weight in the first eight years of her battle, which resulted in her developing blood pressure related problems. She then started taking care of herself with medication and regulated her weight. By her side today were her 80-year-old parents in Muzaffarnagar, UP, who she visited for a week every month. But support or no support, Neelam soldiered on.
For a jovial person who had little idea about police stations and court proceedings, Neelam says she took everything as a learning opportunity. “I have had a very protected childhood. But this murder changed me forever. At first, I blindly followed what the Government appointed prosecutor was saying. But I reaslied he was not going to stay much longer. Then another prosecutor came but the moment he dropped Bharti Yadav as a key witness from his list, I knew he was not fighting for us. I had to hire someone and I am glad we took the decision early. When Kamini Jaiswal, the Supreme Court lawyer and my advisor told me to first fight for the case to be shifted to Delhi, I didn’t see where she was going. I had no idea that it would be such a huge step in ensuring justice for my son. Many people congratulated me saying that this was half the battle won!,” she recalls.
Despite the personal loss and the odds stacked against her, Neelam remained a picture of composure all through the battle. She conducted herself with dignity, ignoring grave provocation from the defence side, which launched many personal attacks on her. Though despair and frustration, the gritty mother made sure she was present at all court proceedings. Several times, whenever the prosecution got adverse rulings, she nudged them to move the High Court and even the Supreme Court. Her first victory came on August 23, 2002 when the Supreme Court transferred the trial from a court in Ghaziabad to Delhi on her petition that the powerful accused were influencing the trial. Her role in forcing the prosecution to bring Bharti Yadav from UK to India to depose after she had evaded the court for three years, was critical in the manner the case turned out. However, the biggest disappointment in this battle for her also turned out to be Bharti’s attitude who, she felt let Nitish down big time. “She was in touch with me for the initial three weeks after Nitish was murdered and wrote a lot of confidential emails. But when she finally appeared in the court to give her account she backtracked without battling an eyelid. My son would have never done that. I felt disappointed that Nitish chose her,” she lets her heart out, but maintains her poise throughout.
After the trial court in 2008 convicted Vikas and Vishal Yadav as well as Sukhdev Pehlwan in the murder, legal loopholes created fresh problems for Katara. Requests for parole for the three convicts before the Delhi High Court led to the revelation, via RTI, that the Yadavs had been going in and out of prison for “hospital visits” and “court dates” which stretched far beyond what the rules allow. “There is no implementation of the laws, that’s why the rich and influential people are not scared. Am I supposed to spend my life filing RTIs about whether they are out on parole again?” she says. On the recent Supreme Court order, she says, “This is a milestone judgment.” She hopes that the punishment would “act as deterrent to others” who consider honour killing. “Life imprisonment is a misnomer. In 14 years’ imprisonment, criminals get out of jail even earlier on remission and keep coming out on parole. This judgment of 25 years without remission will be a deterrent,” she says.
Has anything changed for the better in all these years? “Emotionally, I have learnt to move on and be strong around my family. Physically, I have had some problems but they are under control now and socially, I have become more proactive and sensitive to issues concerning women. But when it comes to our legal system, I feel we are still much behind times. There is no witness protection programme in place as yet. There is no counselling for the victim’s family either. The criminal is counselled in the jail but what about the victim’s family? It’s as if it is our fault that our son got murdered,” Katara, who braved many indirect threats when the case was at its peak, says. “I would get weird calls from strangers telling me that they had tried to fight against the Yadavs but all they got in return was more pain and suffering. Sometimes, there were threat notes stuck on their gate and blank calls became a common occurrence. This did not deter me at all. It only told me that I am on the right path,” she says, breaking into a smile.
“People have said I neglected my younger son because of this case. He now works and lives abroad and never got married. Someone once said it was because of the case and because I didn’t have time for him,” she says. Her youngest son, Nitin who was studying in Pune during the incident is now working for Interpol and is well-settled in this contractual job in the US. “Nitin very much wanted to be a part of the proceedings. He couldn’t believe that his mother would single-handedly manage everything. But I had made up my mind to keep him as far as possible from this matter. The moment he wrapped up his graduation from MIT Pune, I sent him to Leeds for his management degree. The money we got from Nitish’s life insurance was put to good use,” a proud mother tells you. She once said, “Nitin often asks me why all of this had to happen to him. To which I answer, ‘Some people have a perfect youth and a difficult old age like I had, and some have it tough like you in their youth. May be you have a lovely phase hereafter.’” It’s not as if Nitin did not contribute towards this situation at all. He stood as a pillar of support all through the tough times and even now ensures that his mother is occupied. “I visit him often and am happy with the way he has dealt with the entire thing. Nitin has paced his life well,” she says, confiding secretly that she may have not been able to devote a lot of time towards Nitin in his important years but as long as he understands, it’s all well.
Neelam’s inspiring persona has won her many admirers, at work and otherwise. In fact, very often as a member of the Kendriya Vidyalaya Board’s interview panel, she encounters young teachers, who are more delighted to meet her than to be called in for a promotion interview. She advises young people not to get cynical, speak up against injustice and never give up: “You have to be willing to make sacrifices and fight your own case. The rest are just waiting for you to give up.” “Murder for love doesn’t happen. Honour killing can’t be justified in any society. The battle is not over. I will stop only that day when there is a strict law against honour killing,” the crusader for justice, says. Neelam now plans to work towards getting a law against honour killing. She also wants to work spread awareness on Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) - the disease that took her husband's life. There's no doubt, with her steely determination, she will achieve this as well. “I am not a very ritualistic person. However, whenever I have been completely down and out, something shows me the way ahead. ...Maybe that’s God.” That's Neelam Katara for you, a picture of rare courage and quiet optimism.
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