WHEN COPS INSULTED A GIRL—THEN DISCOVERED SHE WAS THE SP! | STORY TIME | VOICE OF TASBIH
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When Cops Insulted a Girl—Then Discovered She Was the SP
On the edge of Probati Bazaar, Sumitra Devi sat cross-legged with her basket of ripe mangoes, each fruit shining in the soft morning light. For years, she had worked hard to provide for her two children: Abhijit Singh, now a captain at the country’s border, and Shrea Singh, the Superintendent of Police (SP) in the very city where Sumitra quietly sold her mangoes. The pride in her heart was immense, yet she never told her children of her daily struggles in the market.
That morning, everything seemed normal. Sumitra arranged her mangoes with care, greeting familiar faces. Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle shattered the calm. Inspector Bikram Malik, notorious for his arrogance, stopped his bike beside her. Without a word, he picked a mango, bit into it, and spat out, “What is this, old woman? Tasteless! Are these even edible?”
Sumitra, nervous but polite, offered to weigh more. Bikram twisted his face in disgust. “Give me a kilo,” he snapped. She packed the mangoes with trembling hands. Bikram grabbed the packet, pulled out another mango, and chewed angrily. “You fooled me!” he shouted. “I won’t pay a single penny.”
Sumitra pleaded, “Sahib, I brought them with hard work. Please give something.” Bikram’s temper flared. He violently lifted her basket and hurled it across the road. Mangoes scattered under cars, into drains, ruined. Tears welled in Sumitra’s eyes—her hard work and dignity crushed before a gathering crowd. Bikram twirled his mustache, started his bike, and sped away.
No one from the crowd helped. But on the roof of a nearby shop, Rahul, Sumitra’s nephew, was recording everything. His blood boiled. He sent the video to Abhijit, thousands of kilometers away at a snowy border post. Abhijit, preparing for patrol, watched the video in disbelief. Rage gripped him as he saw his mother’s humiliation. He immediately forwarded the video to Shrea and called her.
Shrea, in the middle of an important meeting, answered. “Dada, is everything okay?” Abhijit’s voice was sharp with pain. “Watch the video I sent.” Shrea did, and the ground seemed to slip beneath her feet. Her mother, crying over ruined mangoes, her honor crushed by a lowly inspector. Tears filled Shrea’s eyes, but she steeled herself. She was the SP, and she would not collapse. “Dada, I cannot tolerate this,” she said.
“I’m taking leave,” Abhijit insisted. “I won’t spare that inspector.”
“No, Dada,” Shrea replied firmly. “This is my area. I will fight this. I’ll get justice for mother through the law.” Abhijit understood her resolve. “Punish him so his soul trembles.”
Shrea ended her meeting and changed out of her uniform into a simple blue salwar suit. She wanted to be a daughter, not an SP, for her mother. At home, she found Sumitra sitting quietly, eyes swollen. Shrea hugged her. “Mother, why didn’t you tell me?”
Sumitra wiped her tears. “I didn’t want to trouble you, child. You’ve come home after so long. I’m happy.”
Shrea took her mother’s hand. “You’re not alone. Your daughter, the SP, will restore your honor.” That night, Shrea made a plan. She knew if she went to the station as SP, everyone would grovel and the culprit might slip away. Bikram had to be caught red-handed.
The next morning, Shrea dressed in plain green salwar, called DSP Amit, and explained her plan. “I’ll file a complaint at Kotwali station in civil dress. Two hours later, you and senior officers arrive. Wait for my signal.” Amit agreed.
Shrea arrived at the station, scarf covering her face. The environment was disorganized; a constable slept while Bikram and SHO Rajesh Pande laughed over tea. Shrea approached, “Sir, I want to file a complaint.” Rajesh sneered, “Who troubled you?”
She replied, “Yesterday, Inspector threw an old woman’s basket of mangoes. I am her daughter.” Bikram and Rajesh laughed. “Oh, so you’re that old woman’s daughter? Get lost. No FIR will be filed.”
Shrea insisted, “This is illegal. You misused your uniform.” Rajesh roared, “We’ll throw you in jail if you talk too much.”
Shrea stood her ground. “I will not leave without filing the complaint.”
Suddenly, a constable announced, “Ramsh Yadav is coming!” Ramsh, a powerful city leader, entered. Bikram and Rajesh rushed to greet him. Ramsh eyed Shrea and immediately folded his hands. “Namaste madam, you here? If you had called, I’d have come myself.” Bikram and Rajesh were stunned. “Isn’t she that old woman’s daughter?” they whispered.
Just then, cars with red lights arrived. DSP Amit and other officers lined up behind Shrea. Silence fell. Amit stepped forward, “Inspector, stand properly. You’re before SP Madam Shrea Singh.” Bikram and Rajesh felt the ground slip beneath them.
Shrea’s voice was stern. “Inspector Bikram Malik, SHO Rajesh Pande, you are suspended. DSP Amit, file an FIR for misuse of uniform, insulting a citizen, dereliction of duty. Begin a departmental inquiry.” Their belts and caps were removed.
Ramsh pleaded, “Madam, forgive them.”
Shrea’s gaze was cold. “Netaji, they are goons. The law will punish them. Stay away or the investigation will reach you.” Ramsh moved aside, hatred in his eyes.
The next morning, news spread: the SP’s daughter had given justice to her mother. But peace did not last. One night, Shrea received a threatening call. “SP madam, don’t fly too high. Bikram was just a pawn. The real game starts now.” The caller hung up. Shrea knew Romesh Yadav would not accept defeat.
She increased surveillance around her mother’s house, keeping her safe. Days passed in uneasy calm. Then, one morning, Sumitra was selling mangoes when three police vehicles arrived. A new inspector accused her of smuggling drugs under the mangoes. A constable “found” drugs in her basket. Chaos erupted. People whispered, “Look, the SP’s mother sells drugs.” Sumitra cried, “No, I have been framed!” But the police took her away.
News spread quickly. Shrea was torn. If she used her power, she’d be accused of bias. If she stayed silent, her innocent mother would remain in jail. Her phone rang constantly—media, politicians, officers demanded answers.
Abhijit called. “I’m coming. I won’t spare Romesh Yadav.”
“No, brother. We will not act illegally. This fight will be fought within the law,” Shrea replied.
She called a press conference. “Serious allegations have been made against my mother. The law is equal for everyone. I am recusing myself from this investigation. A special team will conduct a fair investigation. I have faith in the law. The truth will come out.”
She called Rahul. “You were in the market. Find out who came near mother’s basket.” Rahul began investigating. Three days later, he found CCTV footage: a man was seen placing something in Sumitra’s basket. Though his face was unclear, he had been seen with Bikram Malik.
Shrea and Amit set a trap. They spread false news that the criminal’s face was clearly visible and police were about to catch him. Romesh Yadav panicked and called Bikram. “If that man gets caught, we are finished. Eliminate him.” The call was under police surveillance.
When Bikram and Rajesh went outside the city to eliminate the man, Shrea and her team surrounded them. Both confessed Romesh Yadav’s name. The next morning, police raided Romesh Yadav’s house. “Game over, Netaji,” Shrea said. “Your pawns are caught.”
Romesh shouted, “You have no proof!” Amit played the phone recordings. “This is solid proof.” Romesh was arrested.
That evening, Sumitra was released. Shrea went to take her. Mother and daughter hugged and cried. “Mother, now you will never have to sell mangoes again,” Shrea promised.
The next day, she took her mother home. Whenever Abhijit came on leave, the three of them stayed happily together, their bond stronger than ever.
So, friends, today’s story ends here. It’s a reminder that dignity and justice must always prevail, and that the strength of family can overcome even the darkest trials.
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