Pritam's Blog
Give Peace A Chance
Does anybody remember the triple murder that took place in Bangalore back in 2009? The victims were the Sachdev family: a retired IISC professor, his wife, and their mentally challenged son…
They had another son, adopted, named Anurag.
Anurag was into drug abuse, and that’s why had problems with his family, according to news report. He used to live in a separate flat when the incident happened. That’s why the police initially suspected him.
I came across Anurag in 2012. He was then undergoing some treatment at NIMHANS.
I was going through one of the worst phases of my life : my relationship with Pallabi was going through regular ups and downs, I had just stopped picking up calls of my parents and relatives, which was tough, and I was tired of engineering…
Everyday I would sit in front of Bangalore Institute Of Dental Science (which is at a walkable distance from NIMHANS) , waiting for my girlfriend (who was a student there), and brood…
One day, a guy, in dirty, torn clothes, poked his nose while passing…
“Give Peace A Chance…,” he said.
He looked like one of those street rogues, and because it wasn’t his business, I gave him an unwelcoming look…
He sat beside me and said, “That’s one of the best Beatles song…”
“I know…”
“Then give peace a chance… Everything will be alright…”
“How do you know it’s not alright?”
The only reason why I responded to the forced conversation was that his English was really good… Grammatically and accentwise. And because he listened to the Beatles. And it was probably because of my upbringing, I found it interesting that a man with that look could speak in such good English.
“A lost soul can recognize another…” He said, and I am not making it up. Yes, conversations like this happen in real life too… But then again, he was high on something even then…
We started talking.
While introducing himself, he said,“I am Anurag Sachdev. Triple murder accused. To know more, Google my name…”
And I did when I went back home. He wasn’t bluffing.
Anyway, for the next two months or so, he would stop every time, to talk to me, on his way to NIMHANS…
I cannot say for sure whatever he told me was true, but it sounded like he wasn’t lying. And we also talked about the diverse interests we shared, painting being one of them…
He said that he loved painting, and because his dad was an IISC professor, that was another reason why he had problems with his family, something I could totally relate to… The police and the society considered only the drug-addict aspect of him. Also he was well-read, highly knowledgeable, and empathetic…
And he said that he regretted his extremely rebellious nature while dealing with his parents… And that’s why he wanted to mend his ways, even though they were dead. That’s why he wanted to stop drugs and become a better human being… That’s why he never missed an appointment at NIMHANS…
The last time I saw him, he said that he had got a job. Just joined. It wasn’t anything hi-fi, but he was excited. And hopeful. He believed he was getting better.
And I too believed him. For the last thing he asked from me was food, not money.
“Subah se kuch nahi khaya. Drug addict hu. Paisa nahi mangunga. Par kuch khila de yaar…”
I am no one to judge if he was responsible for his family’s death or murder, but I can’t deny that in those two months, he taught me so many things, changed my approach towards life and relationships… I learnt from his mistakes. And I learnt not to give up.
It has been almost four years since that day. And I feel I owe him…
I don’t know where he is…
If any of you can help me find him, I will be grateful to you…