I RECALL Manju’s spiritual side. He had a photo of Ramana Maharshi in his hostel room. Every now and then, he would look at it, chuckle and say, ‘‘Look at him. He looks so joyful’’.

For me he had another recommendation. ‘‘Ramana is a great saint and all that but he speaks of ‘God’. You must read J Krishnamurty. He speak of realising one’s possibilities; he doesn’t even mention God. That is strength! If you read JK, you feel strong.’’ Maybe he knew that I was never going to be as strong as him.

As we return from the petrol bunk, the SP of Lakhimpur Kheri asks us for dinner. ‘‘My wife and children want to meet Manjunath’s parents—the ones who inculcated his values in him’’.

His whole family knows Manjunath’s story. And he confesses to us, ‘‘In my career, I have seen so many heinous crimes and horrible criminals. Yet, two cases have moved me no end. This was one. A bright and honest young man. Killed like this? Unimaginable.’’

The SP is the one who investigated the case in depth. The men on getting caught had said—‘‘we killed Manjunath’’. The case would have been closed convicting these two, and Monu Mittal would have lived on to kill more Manjunaths. And then, this ‘Godsend’, as Manju’s mother puts it. The investigation passes to this upright IPS officer. He takes up the case, investigates in depth, and digs out a revolver, cartridge, blood-stained shirt, phone conversation transcripts.

The SP shows me a mail he received from an IIM-Bangalore student. This young man has chided the SP— ‘‘You can’t you maintain law and order in your district? Work is worship, not a pastime!’’ The SP shows it to me saying, ‘‘My first instinct was to react sharply. But then our work is service so we must be reconciled to do a thankless job. We must prepare to hear many such things.’’

... contd.